On the Canal du Nivernais

For some time Mr. C and I were taken with the idea of boating in France. That is, just the two of us in some smart little craft gliding down some scenic waterway. “Your first waterways cruise will be an unforgettable experience,” promises the Locaboat brochure. And it was a week-long Locaboat cruise we chose this past May, from tiny Corbigny about midway on the Canal du Nivernais to the town of Joigny on the river Yonne, in Burgundy.

Lauded as lovely and peaceful with unspoiled countryside, the Canal du Nivernais, built between 1783 and 1842, is now plied only by recreational craft. It seemed ideal, especially for neophytes like ourselves. 

 So how did reality compare to rosy expectation? First of all, it was an adventure, but adventures are not stress-free.Take the usual anxieties of travel and add to that trying to master (or at least handle adequately) everything in this totally new milieu. Simply driving the boat is not difficult, but maneuvering, i.e. entering a lock, mooring, takes some skill (and luck). As to the locks, despite the assurance on Locaboat's website that “there's no need to worry about them,” we found each lock to be somewhat of a challenge in one way or another.

On this particular itinerary there are

sixty-two locks, and going downstream as we were (meaning that the water was at lock level on entering, so we were “locking down”), one person must jump to the lock side to secure the boat. There are also several lift bridges which require someone to hop out to open and close them. Plus there's tying up for lunch and in the evening. Everything entails much hauling and pulling on the ropes. So the intervals of idyllic cruising are brief, and those of physical activity are frequent. I even lost weight!

 We were probably fortunate in going early in May, even if the weather was a bit chilly, because we enjoyed solitude along stretches of the canal. Eventually we caught up to another Locaboat going our way with three American couples around our age and often went through the locks with them. The locks (écluses) on the Canal du Nivernais have charming little houses that formerly housed the éclusiers, but now the lock keepers are government employees zipping up to the locks in vans. Each oversees several locks and were generally pleasant and helpful, especially the young women. Obviously they were accustomed to the bumbling efforts of vacationing boat renters, and it surely helped that we were passing through before the summer hordes wore down their patience. 
 

Overall we encountered mostly helpfulness and good will all along our cruise, from the other boaters, from the people who oversaw the moorings, and from the employees of Locaboat. We were also quite pleased with our Pénichette Classique, the smallest of the Locaboat fleet, but quite adequate for two people. In fact, it was fun spending a week on the cozy little boat, falling asleep to the lapping of the water, eating a meal we had cooked on the galley's stove. 
 

We explored the towns where we moored but didn't bicycle off to discover more distant attractions, both because we were often tired from our exertions on board and also because there simply wasn't time. The cruise was not really “at our own pace,” nor, despite our slow speed, was it all that leisurely, due to the aforementioned locks. “What time will you be leaving in the morning?” the lock keeper wanted to know the evening before. Then there were the mandatory mid-day halts when the lock keepers were at lunch. And, of course, there was the time specified for arrival at our final destination. So we had to keep going, even through one miserable day of cold, unceasing rain.

 

At the small city of Auxerre, where the Canal du Nivernais ends, the swelling river Yonne bustles with boats big and small. Thank goodness we were “experienced” by then! Another day on the river, navigating new sorts of locks along with much larger boats, brought us finally to Joigny and the conclusion of our journey by water. We were tired and we were ready for a long shower in a big bathroom. But most of all we were so glad that we had finally had this adventure that we had thought about for so long. 

 

And now that we know more or less what to expect...we are thinking about doing it again! (Although on a different waterway with fewer locks.) And if anyone reading this is pondering a similar adventure afloat, please feel free to get in touch.

Buttoned up

Sometimes you can't resist the temptation of new fabric, even with a sizeable stash waiting to be sewn. And the minute I opened the package from Marcy Tilton to see the heathered violet linen I had ordered, I was glad I didn't. Luscious color, excellent quality, summer-perfect weight for a top. So how was I going to make it up?   

I wanted something simple, easy-to-wear, loose but not oversized. So I turned to Pinterest and searched for linen tops. Well, you know how it is, diving into Pinterest searches. Soon I had a board of tops with interesting detailing: pleats, tucks, creative necklines. My eye kept returning to one with a neckline placket 

 closed by two Chinese knotted ball buttons.

 The neckline and the general look of the top were the only things I copied, preferring to have a set-in rather than cut-on sleeve and a slightly more shaped body with bust darts. I used Butterick 5390, version C, shortening it to hip-length, with the back slightly longer than the front, and making the sleeve just above the elbow. And, of course, re-doing the neckline.

  

But, oh, those buttons! I got out string and tried following along on YouTube videos...without success. It looked so simple but I could never seem to get anything reasonably resembling those ball buttons. Finally I remembered that I actually had a book on Chinese Knotting (by Lydia Chen ISBN 0-8048-3999-0), with the steps clearly showing the process for tying the button. Still, it took me a very frustrating morning until I achieved the elusive knot. (For anyone trying this, the secret is in the careful pulling and tightening of the cord.) 

  

The next step was covering the string with the linen. I stitched a very narrow bias tube and turned it right side out, pulling it over the string as I did so. Because It was bias, I could stretch the fabric to be narrower that the tube I had stitched, making it fit snugly over the string. In retrospect, I wish I had used a smaller cord to make slightly smaller buttons, as I was worried that the weight of the buttons on the lightweight top might make them droop. I really haven't had a chance to wear the top, since I completed it just after our late warm weather ended, but it seemed okay even with the larger buttons when I had it on for Mr. C to snap some pics. 

 

The placket was stitched to the inside, turned to the outside and top-stitched. The string inside the bias tube of the buttons was cut off close to the knot and the remainder of the tube inserted under the little crosswise pieces and top-stitched down. The same tiny bias tube minus the string was inserted in the other side of the crosswise pieces for the loop to close the buttons. The neckline is finished with bias. I serged the side, shoulder and sleeve seam allowances before stitching the seams. 

Altogether I'm totally pleased with how it turned out, and I can't wait for next summer to have a chance to wear it.

The cropped pants I'm wearing are also linen from Marcy Tilton.

AtTIEre

Somewhere in this city lives a man who once possessed hundreds of fine silk ties. Why he had so many, I don't really know. Nor do I know why he donated all those beautiful ties to the Dallas Area Fiber Artists. When I joined the organization last October, the ties were being sold in color-coordinated packages of nine for $5. Their purpose was to be used in the 2019 Tie One On members' challenge. The main requirement was that the ties compose 80% of the objet created using them.

For only $5 I couldn't pass up a pack of ties even though I didn't think I would be entering the challenge, having a line-up of other projects that claimed priority. And, indeed, it wasn't until July, the very month that the entries had to be turned in, that I decided to participate. A search of Pinterest will show you a mind-boggling array of creations using men's ties, but in the end I decided to do what I know best: make a garment. Specifically, a vest, since that uses a minimal amount of fabric. 

For my pattern I simply changed the neckline on Vogue 9478 (from the 1990s) which has side panels joining the fronts and back. Beginning with the fronts, I moved my selected ties around on each pattern piece until I felt that the fabric from each tie was being used optimally, then cut the tie fabric apart. Originally I had intended to piece and sew them onto some very lightweight non-woven interfacing, but after having pieced the entire vest, it seemed to need more structure, so I removed and pieced them onto iron-on interfacing. Exposed edges on each piece were turned under and stitched with metallic thread. A button was found in my button box, with three little blue glass beans added to pick up the pattern in the foulard of the neckband. The biggest expense was gray silk lining from Dharma, which I felt the lovely silk of the ties themselves deserved. 

 

 

While I didn't win any of the challenge prizes, I did enjoy the project, although I'm not sure I can envision actually wearing the vest. It has joined the Texas road map vest which I made also as a DAFA project. Now there's a recycled fashion show coming up for October; wonder what I could make for that...

 

Worth reading

If you love beautiful garments, you will swoon over the confections in The House of Worth, 1858-1954: The Birth of Haute Couture. Certainly you might have swooned while corseted into one of the boned bodices and metal-hooped cage crinolines which supported the yards and yards of fabric and trim that comprised one of these dresses. But how sumptuous, how splendid, how breath-taking the result! Each garment shown in this richly-illustrated tome will have you marveling at its design and details. 

 

In addition to all this visual delight, the book presents the story of the Englishman Charles Frederick Worth who came to Paris as a young man in 1846 and by 1858 had established what would eventually become the famous House of Worth. It's also a fascinating look into the fashion life of royal and aristocratic ladies as well as those from the artistic and demi-mondaine worlds, beginning at the time of the extravagant Second Empire in France, when the Empress Eugénie became Worth's loyal client.

From the voluminously-skirted gowns of this era to the bustle-backed styles of the later 1800s, Worth's creativity and his love of opulence and ornamentation is magnificently demonstrated. His son, Jean-Philippe, entered the business as a designer, and I do admire some of these later turn-of-the century designs, executed after Charles Frederick had died in 1895.

 Looking at all these frilled, embroidered, bejeweled, lace-adorned silks and velvets, I could not help but muse on the woman that they presented and the woman that wore them, for they surely would shape both outward and inward concepts of the wearer. Such perfection, such utter femininity. But also, such artificiality, such discomfort!

One passage from the book especially stays in my mind. “The empress [Eugénie] was fond of an active lifestyle and liked to dress very simply when she was not engaged in public duties, often in a black skirt caught up over a red underskirt, worn with a loose-fitting shirt... It was wearing a similar outfit that she scaled the Mer de Glace glacier near Mont Blanc.” Can you imagine doing that in skirts!? It made me think of the famous quip about Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, that she did everything he did, but backwards and in heels.

 So it is easy to see how women embraced the flapper fashions of the Twenties. About one dress from 1924-27 the description concludes: “Dresses of this kind have no internal structure and rely entirely on the body to support them.” How wonderful that must have felt after all the tortuous shaping the body had previously been subjected to. But I have to admit that for ahh-inspiring beauty, these shapeless dresses, however artistically adorned, can't compete with those incredible clothes from decades before. Even the more lavish New Look styles with which the history of the House of Worth closes in 1954 pale in comparison. 

Yes, I am grateful I live in the age of knits and spandex and denim, and linen that is allowed to wrinkle. But The House of Worth will make you yearn, if only for a moment, to be swathed in a luscious silk, a froth of delicate lace at your bosom, embroidered blossoms entwining with pearls down the front, some ruching perhaps, and tassels and ribbons, the skirt spilling out gracefully about you. Just page through this wonderful book and let your imagination waltz away.

The many benefits of reading

Recently I received a Penguin Random House email that touted the many benefits of reading. They included improving memory by activating the parts of your brain that create new synapses for memory; making you smarter by enhancing vocabulary, improving articulation, and increasing creativity; making you more empathetic by improving understanding of others' beliefs and views; as well as relieving stress and lowering blood pressure.

But this one made me laugh. Improves Sleep: Incorporating a reading routine into your bedtime ritual tells your body it's time to wind down and get some sleep. Because who hasn't snuggled into bed for a good read and only to blearily wake up some time later with the book flopped askew on a body part. And woe If it happens to be a weighty tome!

  

We do have one weighty tome in this year's bookgroup selections: Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. It was my nomination and a novel that I read rapturously back in my younger days, in the 1961 translation by David Magarshack (which I still have in battered paperback form). There are several newer translations, and I intend to read one of those this time. After our encounter with Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert in 2017, it seemed appropriate that we should share and discuss the story of one of the other most famous fictional 19^th century women. 

 

I doubt that Anna will be all that sleep-inducing, but I have been finding my eyelids drooping over next month's book: Censoring an Iranian Love Story by Shahriar Mandanipour, a very unconventional novel, to say the least. Yet it is this sort of book that I might not ordinarily read that makes our bookgroup so worthwhile. I'm looking forward to learning more about this novel, this author, this culture, and discussing it with a group of articulate and open-minded women. If you are in the Dallas area and like reading interesting and often challenging books, please come join us.