So you know by now that I stumbled upon a knitting pattern for the cutest wee boots—turned-up toes, and a cuff of leaves circling the ankle like a forest whisper. I fell in love instantly and knew I had to make some.
I have no one small enough to wear pixie boots, and I hadn’t knitted in the round with DPNs for years. Even then, I’d only made three tiny baby socks. But I was determined. I was going to knit myself some pixie boots.
I had a vision—a dream, really—of a Faerie who came in from the cold, just wanting to be warm for a while. Then, caught off guard, she ran off barefoot, leaving her boots behind. That whimsical tale grew stitch by stitch as I knitted.
My first effort was ripped out, but I wasn’t deterred. I started again, a little tidier, a little wiser. The first completed boot still wasn’t perfect, but it taught me what I needed to know. The pair to the first was better, easier going. And this morning a surprise snowfall gave me the perfect excuse to stay home, sit down and finish the last of the leaves around the ankle.
The leaves knit up quickly, and before I knew it, I was slipping the second boot onto my DIY sock blocker. And finally this Faerie tale was born.
Voirrey Thistlewinks Boots.
She came in from the frost with a whispering tread,
A faerie in search of warmth amid yarn and thread.
She slipped past the fabric to a crafty retreat,
Where scissors hung sharp and the projects ran deep.
In boots knit from twilight and thistle’s own thread,
Voirrey danced softly where a crafters dreams spread.
An Inneen ny Shee, with a secretive grace,
She vanished, a whisper still warming the space.
Now resting alone with a whimsical toe,
Turned upward like laughter where faeries might go.
Their cuffs are all leafy, a green-stitched bouquet—
Two booties now waiting to dance the spring day.
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A Note on Manx Folklore
Inneen ny Shee (pronounced in-yen nuh shee) is Manx Gaelic for “Girl of the Fairies.” In Manx tradition, the Shee are fairy folk—secretive, nature-bound, and often glimpsed at twilight. An Inneen ny Shee might be a gentle visitor, a mischief-maker, or a guardian of hidden places.
Voirrey is a Manx version of Mary, often linked to fairies and folklore. Soft, secretive, and Fae approved, it felt like just the right name for the owner of the boots supposedly left behind in my craft room.
I wonder what you make of Voirrey’s boots and my imaginings. Feel free to share—this corner of the internet is always open to a bit of whimsy.
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Still here after my imaginings? You’ll be wondering what comes next after the completion of that little obsession. Another squirrel, of course.
Do you recall when I found the pattern for the mohair sweater my lovely mum knitted for me back when I was about 16 or 17? I started it the other night. I needed a break from the 2.75 mm needles and the 4-ply yarn—my eyes and fingers were beginning to complain. The mohair and the 6 mm needles were on hand, so I cast on the back of the sweater. There’s a lovely 2x2 rib in progress, soft and rhythmic.
To my surprise, the mohair isn’t nearly as troublesome as I feared. It’s behaving—mostly—and I’m very much enjoying the change of texture. I think I’ve found my next mindless TV project. It’s the kind of knitting that lets the story unfold on screen while the stitches grow quietly in my lap.
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We’ve reached that time in my roster where I get three whole days off. Unless the phone rings, which seems unlikely this week. With only a few chores, a quick grocery shop, and a visit to the chiropractor on Friday afternoon, the rest of the time is mine.
So what to do with all of that time?
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Post Script
There’s always a phone call, isn’t there? Just as I was off editing photos and admiring Voirrey’s leafy cuffs, the phone rang. So, this evening I’m working a short shift—just four hours. Not too bad, really. Enough time to be useful, not enough to unravel the mohair mood. The boots will wait, the blog will post, and the squirrel will find me again tomorrow.
