Quite some time ago, Kylie Gusset, amazing dyer and originator of the fabulous Tonne of Wool project had a sale of some of her last optim fibres. It was a lucky dip arrangement in which I did not choose the colours.
In my recent period of being unwell, I found myself spinning down through the stash of rovings I still have–I just wasn’t up to fibre preparation. One day I discovered the optim, which I had completely forgotten–and I believe there was some Ms Gusset merino in with it. Why have I kept them for years without spinning them? I think I might have been saving them until I became a better spinner. I am not sure what this view of myself and my capacities is all about, but it’s time to give it as little rope as possible, because my spinning is fine. Even when it’s less than exquisite, it’s still fine… and will only get better through practice in any event. I have listened to women at my Guild who still think they don’t spin well enough after fifty years of spinning. It seems so obvious that this makes no sense at all, when I listen to them (and I have of course seen their spinning)!
Once I got started, I just kept going… and pretty soon I had a lot of bobbins…
And then, a whole lot of skeins. And they look fine to me!
Some years ago, I bought India Flint’s little book Stuff, Steep and Store. I stuffed a lot of jars with all manner of small quantities of dyestuffs, and set them to steep. Some have been out of doors with their cardboard labels tied on with woad dyed wool, or with string made of leaves.
Some are still sitting on my bookshelves patiently waiting. Recently I opened several of these jars and washed off the contents.
And here are the results.
It’s a bit sad that this thread dyed with weld was the entirety of my weld crop! I came out one day and found that it had fainted. Some critter or another had severed it below ground.
On the other hand, the colour from the black hollyhock flowers is stupendous. I will certainly save them again this summer for a future jar of dye. This method is fantastic for small quantities of plant material. But I must admit I was interested so long after the fact to see how risk averse I’d been in setting up all these jars of dye and yet dyeing so little fibre. Maybe next time I could be just a little bolder…
So there’s this small person coming into our lives early next year. I think I may have mentioned this! I haven’t felt up to anything too complicated, so I settled on some socks for a start on knitting for the babe. Cat Bordhi’s Little Sky Socks, to be exact. In fact, I had in mind also knitting another design from the same book, but we’ll get to that in good time…
I selected some hand spun alpaca dyed with eucalyptus, and when I didn’t seem to have quite the right number of dpns, I added one that didn’t match… a slightly different size even. As one of four, not such a big issue, I’ve found, and infinitely better than investing in a new set or waiting for it to come in at the op shop (thrift store).
Here’s the thing. I started these when I had recovered enough from my recent bout of illness to feel interested in knitting, but evidently I was still not the sharpest tool in the box. I finished one sock, and felt pretty happy. Then some time passed and I knit another and felt ready to move on to the Little Coriolis Sock. I put the two socks together, and what do you know? Not even close to being a pair. I don’t mean they were trivially different (that would just be normal in my case). I mean one was a centimetre or two longer than the other, and on a sock this size–that’s a big difference!
I had to knit two more socks and try to match the mistakes made the first two times! Attentive readers will have noticed the yarn was dyed/spun as a gradient. So doing this guaranteed that the socks would also not come even close to matching in colour.
It’s a lucky thing that the intended recipient won’t care at all. And that my daughter isn’t fussed either!
And while I was sending weird gifts by mail, I sent this silk beanie. I found this single skein among my friend Joyce’s stash after she had died, and pure silk seemed like a good choice for a baby. Oh, my goodness, though–the colours are a bit much, and they are even more astounding knit up than in the skein. Happily enough, I received a call when this strange set of gifts was received. The colours had been judged to be fabulous! I think Joyce would love the idea of my being a grandma and her skein of silk going to a newborn.
This culvert has been one of my patches for a few years now (in this post in 2016 I am not sure I am planting for the first time…), and it is really looking good now. In fact, today as I weeded, a gentleman in a suit came past and his only comment was “oh, I wondered who had been doing that!”
Ultimately, my goal is to have native plants out compete weeds, so that no one feels the need for poisoning, and native insects and birds and lizards can have a little more of what they need. In the meantime however, the struggle is on to make sure that effort to poison weeds do not kill my little plants before they can become established. So here is my weeding toolkit and our biggest bucket.
I filled it to overflowing and at this time of year, a weed the hivemind on this blog identified as a cudweed predominates. It is probably Gnaphalium affine (Jersey Cudweed) (so far from home!) But look! The saltbushes (three species here) are really established now.
There is flax leaf fleabane and prickly lettuce and fourleaf allseed , and even a few fumitory plants have survived past the first heatwave and my best efforts. On the other hand, look at the native plants now.
Even the Ngarrindjeri weaving rushes are looking good at the moment.
And, here it is afterwards–perhaps you can’t tell iin so small an image. But hopefully the seed burden is reduced. Already, the boobialla and saltbushes are crowding out weeds which really can only take root seriously at the edges. I hope the poisoners will leave things be.
And seedlings for autumn planting are springing up under the regular watering provided by my beloved. Life rises up in its own defence, and so must we rise up for the future of life on earth. Today, with a little local weeding.
Once upon a time there was a lovely handspun Suffolk yarn dyed in a near exhausted fructose indigo dye vat. Or perhaps it was just that the dyer had exhausted her capacity to keep the vat reduced.
It was paired up with some indigo-dyed merino-silk commercial yarn. Here I am knitting at the Royal show. Watching the ponies.
I stopped with two legs knit because the Suffolk yarn for the feet was in the royal show. I started another pair of socks and this pair of legs sat on the top of a chest of drawers for some weeks. Once I got to the point where I started knitting the feet, they went super fast, with a few long meetings and some TV watching.
Here I am heading for a grafting moment at a concert at the Fleurieu Folk Festival.
And here are the finished socks!