The Joy of Making
- crafting, community, and wonky wood
Hello, and welcome to this latest edition of musings from an old stone cottage by the sea, also known as “random thoughts that have popped into my head that I feel the overwhelming desire to share with strangers”! The fire is lit, and I am writing this while sitting at our smooth shiny dining table. My son was off school yesterday due to the weather, and after doing the small amount of Geography work he had home with him, he decided to sand and oil the table. It gets a lot of use – all our meals are eaten around it, we play board games and do crafts at it – and it was looking like it was ready for its annual freshen-up. My son gave it a good sand to remove all the stains, then melted together a mixture of olive oil and a bit of beeswax, which he rubbed all over the surface. It looks so much better now! He’s at home again today due to the wind, and has mentioned he might do the mantelpiece this afternoon.
I really admire people who manage to adhere to one topic for their publications – sticking to a theme is not something I’ve ever been good at doing, as you will have realised if you’ve been here for a while. So far we’ve covered peeing on puddocks, beachcombing, moths, and wild coffee, amongst other things. Inspired in part by my son’s handiwork yesterday, today’s post is a celebration of making all sorts of different things using our own two hands: the joy of handmade, no matter how wonky and “rustic” they turn out to be!
“No machine-made article can be beautiful. Beauty in artifacts can only be put there by the hands of the craftsman, and no machine will ever be built that can replace these. Machines might one day be made which will appreciate the beauty of articles made by other machines. People can only be truly pleased by articles made by other people.”
John Seymour, Fat of the Land, 1976
As the nights are drawing in and my evenings are no longer spent busily processing and preserving garden produce, I am finding myself drawn more towards crafty pursuits and the desire to create things with my hands. I’m unable to just sit still and watch the TV, my hands want to be doing something. In my opinion, nothing beats knitting beside the fire on a November evening, while the wind is howling outside and the rain is battering against the windows.
I find the repetitive motions of something like knitting to be calming and relaxing – indeed, I sometimes feel that it is the only thing keeping me sane in this mad world we inhabit! For many people, myself included, crafting is as much about the process as it is about the end product. It is a way of slowing down, switching off and forgetting your troubles for a while, and stepping back from constant consumerism – something which starts to build to ridiculous levels at this time of year. It’s a way of using up materials that you may already have lying around that would otherwise go to waste, and using them to create something new, useful, beautiful.
Sure, it might take much longer than just clicking a button online and waiting for the item to arrive in the post. In fact, the last pair of socks I knitted took almost a year to finally complete (I had a bad case of “Second Sock Syndrome”!) but I find that I appreciate and value things much more when I know how much time and effort has gone into creating them. As John Seymour says in the quote above, “People can only be truly pleased by articles made by other people.” I have never felt the same connection to a machine-made item as I have to a handmade one, whether it was made by my or someone else’s hands.
Lately I have got back into crocheting, after a break of a few years. I started off by making a couple of round mats to go under my demijohns of wine so they didn’t scratch the surface of the dresser they sit on, and am now in the process of making many, MANY hexagons which will eventually become a blanket. I think I’ve done about 70 so far, and am really not looking forward to sewing them all together! All the yarn I’m using is stuff that I already had lying around so while this project is certainly taking time, it’s not costing me any money at all. And it’s better than spending my time doom-scrolling, right?!
An unexpected side-effect of this revival of my knitting and crocheting activities is that I seem to have accidentally started a crafting group!
On Wednesday evenings my husband goes to the local hotel to play with the ukulele group. I casually mentioned to a friend that my son and I also went and would sit in the corner with our knitting and crocheting, listening to the music (he’s currently working on some knitted squares to make a little patchwork blanket). She was keen to come along, and a few other people have expressed interest in joining us, although so far it’s only been the three of us. I have high hopes other people will start turning up too!
I would never describe myself as a “people person”, having found it difficult all my life to make and maintain friendships and other relationships. I do, however, realise the importance of community, especially in a small place like this where sometimes we do have to pull together and rely on each other. In its own little way I feel like this craft group could help with that, by allowing me to build stronger relationships with other islanders. Plus, it is actually a really lovely way to spend a damp, dark, winter evening. If any locals happen to read this: you are very welcome to come along and join us!
I try hard not to buy brand-new clothes, something that I have to say is made much easier by not living anywhere near any clothes shops! I’d been on the lookout for a cardigan for a while, and recently bought a second-hand one online from Vinted. While I love it – it is so comfy and cosy – it had three large, rather awful, plastic buttons on it. But that’s easy enough to fix!
I raided the woodpile for a suitably-sized branch, and cut a few slices of willow to make myself some new buttons. I was busy sanding and oiling them when, coincidentally, this post - by another Cat – popped into my inbox, complete with instructions on how to make your own buttons! Great minds think alike and all that...
I love how something as simple as new buttons can change an item of clothing from mass-produced fast fashion to something completely unique. They’re wonky shapes, they don’t all match, and the holes aren’t even. In mass-produced items these imperfections would be flaws and they would probably never make it out of the factory; in a handmade item they add character. Trees and their branches aren’t uniform and regular, so why should I expect something made from them to have those characteristics?
Finally, I want to share with you all one of my favourite handmade items ever. When my son was 9, he made me a niddy-noddy for Christmas. If you’re not familiar with the word, a niddy-noddy is an essential piece of equipment if you spin your own wool. It’s used to wind spun wool into skeins, and is much easier than wrapping it round the back of a chair or between your child’s outstretched hands like I had to do previously! A niddy-noddy is shaped like a capital letter “I”, with the top and bottom cross-pieces at right angles to each other. The name is thought to come from the nodding motion it makes as you move it backwards and forwards while winding the yarn onto it.
My son made this one himself from rowan wood, from prunings from a tree in our garden. He cut the wood, whittled it to the right size, oiled it, and attached the pieces together using copper plumbing fittings. It is a beautiful tactile object and I love using it, knowing all the effort he put into making it. I will forever believe that it is better to spend time rather than money on gifts for the people you love.
There is quite a lot of folklore associated with rowan trees (Sorbus aucuparia). My son wasn’t aware of this when he chose the wood, but it makes me treasure it even more. Rowans are seen as protectors against witchcraft and enchantment, and even to this day are often planted next to buildings to keep away evil spirits.
I realise this is the fourth post I have published in as many weeks, and I feel that I should warn you all that this level of regularity and productivity is unlikely to continue once I settle properly into Winter Hibernation Mode. I do have a “Top 10 Moths of 2025” post in the pipeline, and I’m enjoying looking through my records for this year to see who makes the grade. As always, thanks so much for reading and I hope you all have a good weekend. Feel free to share your current crafting projects or favourite handmade items in the comments - I love hearing what other people are making.
Posts here are always going to be free, but if you like what I write and/or find it useful, I’ve added a ko-fi button below if you want to show your appreciation. Thank you to everyone who has already contributed! xx
First of all, I'm happy to call you my friend (of quite a few years now!). Though we've not met, I feel a kindredness in you, and for that I am grateful. Second of all, the part of John Seymour's quote "No machine-made article can be beautiful." is putting words to the discomfort I feel when people around me describe cars or buildings are beautiful. Of course, I'm glad they find beauty around them, and to each their own. But reading that quote hit me so succinctly that while I can appreciate non-machine-made things as innovative or effective or cool, beauty is just not a word that I associate with them. It feels to me too sacred and too human. Anyway, once again you've written a lovely newsletter. My love from the US to you all, and to Roger's spirit. I hope his soul is sleeping so peacefully. ◡̈
Oy! I wrote a very thoughtful response that was eaten by the machine, so I suppose I will re-try.
This post spoke to me deeply, as someone who makes, mends, grows, and repairs things continuously. What a testament to your way of life, that your son is already an accomplished maker! I love that. My Charlie is, too, and it gives me a lot of joy to see small people creating things rather than staring at screens.
When did your son learn to crochet? I wish I was better at crochet, because I think it is probably easier to teach to a 7-year-old than knitting. Charlie learned to cast on last winter, and hopefully will have the attention span to learn stockinette this year. I am very much looking forward to knitting in the evenings in the warmth of the wood stove now that the ceaseless work of preservation is mostly past.
I read an article yesterday about coders who essentially innovated themselves out of jobs by creating AI agents capable of replacing their makers. An academic economist was asked by if this wave of AI-induced layoffs was going to result in a new generation of carpenters, plumbers, and skilled tradespeople, to which he replied, "Have you seen what robots can do these days?"
Apparently, he has not. The blind faith of the non-makers in a future where robots do skilled work is as laughable as it is tragic. I for one, am grateful to you and each person out there living slower, making and doing, connecting with the moment and the preciousness of the world around us. Thank you for sharing this. It gave me a pause and some peace this morning.