this year's lambs

It's unusual for us to capture one of our lambs in a pretty pose--they're usually tossing their tails and running away.

But here Capri and Gem are, mugging for the camera.

This year's lambs are racing up and down the barnyard at Crosby Hill farm and we're very pleased with their fleeces--we can already imagine next winter's sweaters.

shepherd's harvest goodies

barn raising CVM romeldale painted top 40z

My mom and I are getting excited for Shepherd's Harvest Festival this year. It's coming up next weekend at the fairgrounds on Lake Elmo, near Stillwater, MN. All winter long we've been dying fiber--both wool and mohair. My mom also has a luxurious wool/mohair blend that has been washed and combed and made into top.

morning glory CVM romeldale painted top 4oz

Please stop by the Crosby Hill Farm booth, as well as the Winterwind Farm booth--we are happy to be collaborating with Sandy again this year. It should be a great time.

hillbilly harvest CVM romeldale painted top 4oz

The images in this post are a preview of the painted and naturally colored top we will have available for sale at the festival. CVM romeldale wool is known for its next-to-the-skin softness. We hope we can share some of our wonderful wool with you.

prairie mix CVM romeldale painted top 4oz

In another post I'll preview our dyed and naturally colored mohair as well as our naturally colored wool that we've had made into top. We will also have skirted, unwashed wool available for purchase at the festival. Please inquire at our booth, we'll be happy to set you up!

zinnia CVM romeldale painted top 4oz

wish me luck

I looked out my window this morning and realized that the large maple tree standing in the parking lot of my building has blossomed. The morning sun seemed almost green, because it had to filter through this mesh of young leaves before it hit my bedroom window.

On my walk into school I discovered all the trees in the city are blossoming.

I guess I've never thought of trees as "blossoming" before, but they really do. Their tiny buds look like flowers before they either fall off or mature into larger leaves.

The yarn above is something I spun at around this time last year. It's a bit over-spun, but perfect for socks. I'm calling this colorway Wish Me Luck. As in wish me luck with the upcoming summer . . . wish me luck on my final reviews . . . wish me luck with the garden . . . wish me luck with all the adventures in my life.

Upon reflection, though, I must admit I think a lot of times we make our luck. (I'll post that colorway in a few weeks, if I'm lucky enough to catch up with all my work.)

unexpected inspirations

Today I'm thinking about all the things that inspire me when I work with fiber. First, there's all the patterns that are available to knit with. I love the way that cables twist and bend stitches into a braided organic form. On the top of a mitten or down the front of a sweater, it doesn't matter where they're knit, they always capture my attention and interest.

This mitten is a tag team effort between my mother, Julie, and my cousin, Ashley. My mom spun the yarn from some of our gray CVM Romeldale top and Ashley found the pattern and knit the mitten. It's called Cruiser and its free on Ravelry.


Here's another collaboration between my mother and Ashley, some hand-painted hand-spun inspired by the colors in a peacock's feather. They did this over Ashley's spring break.

Their process involves winding a very large skein of fiber (I'm talking at least a fifteen foot segment) between two chairs and then draping it over a tabletop and painting the color segments with foam brushes. Next, the fiber goes into a pot to steam for about an hour. Finally it is rinsed and hung out to dry.


Here's another effort of my mother's. The middle skein is an example of our Barn Raising colorway, spun into a double-ply, worsted weight yarn.

The gray fiber beside it is a sample of the top that we dyed over to get this colorway and also the same top that we spun "straight up" to get the gray yarn in the mitten on top.

There's so much that you can do with this fiber!


Here's one last image that I couldn't resist posting. I guess my point is: sometimes when you're inspired you get unexpected results. Our hens have been up to some shenanigans in the hen house. My Mom discovered these wildly varying eggs last week.

Underneath, is a hank of dyed roving that we call Mermaids in the Basement. This fiber is perfect for socks. I like to spin it with a bit of "overtwist" so that the final stitches slant slightly when they're knit.

I hope you're inspired and/or surprised today. (Preferably both.)

jellybeans + garlic sprouts

This is some of my mother's hand-spun and hand-painted yarn. It reminds me of a handful of colorful jellybeans.

Spring is running full throttle here at Crosby Hill farm. Lambs are leaping around the barn yard, and chicks are peeping in the chicken coop. There's even some garlic sprouts poking up through the soil in the garden.

I've been charged with photographing all of these things, so I'd better get my tail out to the barn.

My family will gather this evening for a meal and some card games. The "roast beast" is already in the oven: some of my dad's pastured beef, prepared by me. (A cup of red wine, some rosemary, garlic and shallots and let it cook slowly all afternoon.)

Hope all of you are enjoying your Saturday.

yarn + needles

I can remember reading somewhere that when a serious knitter (and what knitter isn't?) is involved in a project the first thing he or she will do in the morning is pick up the needles. The rest of the day will of course unfold, ending with a few moments on the sofa before bed, perhaps with a cup of tea, also with yarn and needles. In this way knitting seems to bookend our lives.

Some people might not understand this. They might jump the gun and think we have no lives, just a handful of cats. But I couldn't go without my knitting.

Right now the project I'm working on is a familiar one. A simple pair of socks. I have the pattern memorized. I'm knitting the socks for someone else, so really it's a free-stitch-for-all. I knit and try to imagine the dimensions of her foot, given the elasticity of this hand spun yarn I should complete this project somewhere in the ball park.

The mind is elastic too. When I knit something simple, my fingers follow the pattern and my mind unravels, thinking about the day behind me or the day ahead. Or perhaps, even, nothing at all.

I just count stitches or give thanks for this moment of peace and beautiful wool.

FYI : this is Crosby Hill's tiger trout colorway spun single ply fingering weight.

zen mind/knitter's mind

"In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert's there are few."

Shunryo Suzuki-Roshi



The more I knit, the more I think I know about knitting.

An interesting occurrence happened on my last knitting project. Before I cast on for this baby sweater I merely glanced over the pattern, checking yarn weight and needle size. It looked simple enough, all garter stitch, knit in pieces and sewn together.

I just assumed the daintily rolled edges at the cuffs and hem would occur naturally as I knit the sweater up. I mean, rolled edges had happened before, when I didn't want them - so they would happen now, easy enough.

It's pretty common for me to start and stop at the beginning of a project. Tear out stitches and maybe switch needles for a better gauge.

With this pattern I knew there was something wonky with the hem from the get-go, but I kept on knitting.

This pattern calls for the use of two different needle sizes over the entire course of the pattern, smaller for the hem and cuffs, larger for the body. I assumed that since I was going through the motions that everything would turn out.

I assumed that I knew what I was doing, after all, the pieces were coming together nicely, but the hems and the cuffs were not forming dainty little rolls. And, after looking more closely at the picture that went along with this particular pattern, I decided that the dainty little rolls were vital to the final outcome.



So, dear reader, I sat down, got a little humble and reread the pattern like I did when I first began knitting, with a close eye and an open mind and a bit of a stomachache, actually.

And you know what I discovered: purl stitch. I was purling that darn stitch on the wrong side of the pattern. Purl it one way and you get a dumb, bland cuff like a board, purl it another way and you get a decadent little curl.

Don't worry, I didn't have to go back to the beginning and rip everything out. I merely knit the pattern the right way to finish the pieces and added a purled fringe to the hem at the very end when I had the entire sweater sewn together.

I think I'll keep the curiosity and the openness of a beginning knitter close to heart from now on.

I found these copper buttons in my grandmother's button jar. Some of them are starting to turn blue-green, a perfect complement for the hues in this sweater.

P.S. This colorway is called Underfoot, from Crosby Hill Farm's own hand dyed CVM romeldale top, and this pattern comes from Melanie Falick's Weekend Knitting : Baby's Pure and Simple Cardigan by Lana Hames. (Make sure to read the pattern carefully.)