A Fine Tangle

Blackberry Wine, hand spun romeldale

As promised, here's a preview of my first attempt at Navajo plying. The resulting three ply yarn is a bit lumpy and bumpy, but I find that I love the texture. When I started to ply it together (after first spinning my wheel the wrong direction and unraveling many maddening knots) I attempted to achieve some semblance of uniformity, but as you can see I have settled for a uniform disorder.

I love the textures and colors in this yarn. The warm blackberries and mulberries, the sage and barley tones. The yarn has a glossy finish, as well as a stretch and elasticity that makes romeldale fiber a joy to knit and crochet with.

My plans for this skein? Adrian over at Hello Yarn is doing some beautiful things with crochet. I just learned how to crochet, so maybe I'll attempt something in that milieu. Or else, I might knit up a pair of mittens.

Anything to keep this fiber under my fingertips.

Seven Socks

Socktopus Knitty.com

Ahoy Mate! Doesn't this toy just make you smile? The pictures that go with the pattern on Knitty.com are very sweet. (You'll have to check them out.) When I saw this pattern I knew I had to knit it at once, and handily one of my friends is pregnant, so it makes the perfect gift. Though I almost didn't want to part with it.


Those of you out there who are wary of turning a short row heel, here's a simple practice for you. (Eight tricks, no less!) By the time you're through with this toy you'll be ready to graduate to a pair of socks for your own bipeds.

Octosocks here ran (or shall I saw swam, gushed?) a riot through my stash. Any worsted weight yarn will do. I tried to select colors that really rocked off each other for the most contrast. What type of socks will you put on your seaweedy friend? Perhaps the toy's future playmate will help you make the selections.

Try not to smile. I dare you.

Lamb Patrol

Buzz 2008

Everyone is in a heightened state of expectation this week on the farm. We have lambs due in the middle of the month, and the ewes are behaving like pregnant females everywhere--they are ready to be done! We are ready for our new spring lambs. Lamb patrol consists of checking on the ewes every few hours to make sure no one's water has broken and no first time mother is delivering outside. (Check the bottom of the page to see what we woke up to this morning. Hint: below zero wind chills and yet more snow.) Other than checking, there's not much you can do for a pregnant ewe, least ways not a healthy one, who just needs time and mother nature to guide her along. The wait is the hard part for us humans.

Here's something I've been waiting to finish: Blackberry Wine spun up on a bobbin. I plan on Navajo plying it later on this evening. My first attempt at that technique, though I was lucky enough to have an experienced spinner teach me the skill last month at my Tuesday night knitting and spinning circle. I'll post the results, of course!

Snow & Wind

March has come in like a lion, but it will go out with a batch of new lambs on our farm.

Anthropology of Turquoise

"I used to wonder why the sea was blue in the distance and green close up and colorless for that matter in your hands. A lot of life is like that. A lot of life is just a matter of learning to like blue." Miriam Pollard The Listening God

It's nice to finally finish a book that's been sitting beside my bed for a few weeks: The Anthropology of Turquoise, by Ellen Meloy, and post some photos inspired by her words. My sister is getting married in a few months, and I am her maid of honor. Here is a preview of her bridesmaid gowns. I think she made a wonderful choice in color, the hues she selected are titled mermaid and oasis. They are different styles and fabrics, but both are long and fall in a silky sweep to the ankle.

 

The yarn featured beside the gowns is hand spun merino. I call the colorway Amulet. 

Sweet

These socks (Sweetheart Socks, Interweave Holiday 2007) make me want to miscite love poems by Robert Burns. My love is like a red, red rose that's newly bloomed in June. . . and so on and so forth. Once started they are hard to put down. The pattern is challenging, but after a few repeats I've stopped bending my bamboo needles and started to relax.

It's not just the front panel that draws ohhs and ahhs, the back is just as intriguing. Never before have I executed such twists and turns in my stitches. This is like a very fiery, slightly dangerous, weekend love affair, that will have no repercussions besides the possibility of very sweaty feet should I wear these beauties out of season.

And who wouldn't be tempted to do that?

Under a Mediterranean Sun

Italian Villa hand-painted, hand-spun, merino top

Today I'm imagining a warmer climate. I'm imagining the Mediterranean coast. It may be winter here in Minnesota, but in Italy it's nothing but warm sun, cypress groves, red rooftops, and the turquoise sea. I was in Italy once. My brother and sister and I took the night train from Barcelona to Rome. All along the coast we wove in the night. We missed many of the picturesque sights that tiptop tourists see: the olive groves, the stone cliffs, the high-flying clouds over cities whose roots are medieval--not to mention their root cellars. Instead we had to deal with a freezing sleeping compartment (sorry guys) a few wandering Italian drunks (they're all softies) and our own travel-worn bodies.

Red Roof, hand-painted, hand-spun, merino top

I look back at the pictures we took. My sister and I in our backpacks, our six foot tall and then some brother looming behind us, and behind him the Alps, an old cathedral, or a rocky coast.

Cathedral Glass, hand-painted, hand-spun, merino top

What I remember most are not words or menus, but colors. The slant of light through cathedral glass and how it illuminated the landscape. How it stung our eyes as we struggled with our bags and staggered off the train after our night ride along the Italian coast. I'm going to knit a pair of socks out of this hand-spun to help me remember all of the places my feet have traveled.

Snow Day

...snow falling. When you're a kid there's nothing better than looking out the window at dancing snowflakes, especially when you're at school. Perhaps it's early in the day, and you have the afternoon and the playground to look forward to with your pals. A foot of snow can turn a boring, everyday playground into a winter wonderland. A novelty of luxurious snowdrifts and angel nests.


If the snow is falling in earnest there's always the possibility of school shutting down early. First, the precarious bus ride home through tunnels of snow, then your arrival on your snow-covered steps. (The bootprints you leave behind as you tromp up your walk seem like the only sign of human habitation for blocks.) I finished these mittens on just such a snowy day. One of the perks about being a substitute teacher is being able to relive some of the most memorable experiences of my childhood. Unanticipated snow days were the best!

These mittens, titled Tiffany from Knitty.com, are perfect for playing in the snow. I knit mine out of Jamieson Double Knitting in colorways: rosewood, crimson, sunset and spice. Even the names of the colorways make me think of winter. Rosewood crackling on the fire, a crimson scarf, and rosy cheeks the color of sunset. Cinnamon and spice in the hot cocoa. I'm gifting these to my sister. Just like me, she sees all the endless possibilities of a snow day.