Candy Corn, love it or hate it?

I like candy corn, but I realize this is not a universal taste. I limit myself to one bag a year. Purchased around Halloween, and rationed to no more than 10 pieces at a time, it still doesn’t last long enough. And this year I made a big mistake. I bought a bag on the way to my Tuesday “open knitting” session. I wanted to buy the right yellow yarn for a Candy Corn hat I was going to make. I opened the bag to share with my “peeps” and decided to leave most of the bag behind so I wouldn’t be tempted to finish it off on the drive home. To my delight, there was some left the next Tuesday. It is all gone now.

I’m pleased with the way the hat turned out. A number of my knitting friends asked for the pattern so I was glad to share it. There are going to be a lot of grandkids walking around with candy on their heads. There is a free pattern for you, too. You’ll find it under PAGES in the right margin. It is sized for a child.

My daughter-in-law, Gay and I had a great time together yesterday visiting a couple of fiber shops. At Knitty Gritty we both found some roving to dye and spin. She selected two tones of gray Romney, while I came away with 200 grams of white Shetland. We had a very pleasant visit with Dan, and met Cindy as we were leaving. Check out the Wrucke’s site at knittygrittyshop.com. We spotted the sign for Sheeping Beauty Fibre Arts as we were driving home and made a u-turn to visit with owner, Luci Williams. She shared her enthusiasm for all things fiber, especially, teaching the growing, processing, spinning, and weaving of flax into linen. Her site is www.sheepingbeautyfibrearts.com. She is also the coordinator of the Wisconsin Spin-In. More on that can be found at www,wispinin.org.

I’m home today. It is a lovely rainy fall day. And like most us in this parched country I heartily welcome the rain. I’m going to finish now so I can do what we all love to do on a nice rainy fall day, knit or spin or dye or crochet or read about it.

Enjoy your ration of Candy Corn, and happy stitches.

Monkey Mind

Usually monkey mind is something I suffer from in the middle of the night when I‘ve been mentally stimulated too close to bedtime.  Right now it is a beautiful late summer Saturday morning, and I’m finding it hard to zero in on a subject for this post. My first idea was to write about the end of the summer and how it affects our Tuesday open knit group. I’ve been going long enough now to see the pattern of the comings and goings of my knitting friends. The population of Door County ebbs and flows with the seasons. It is a vacation spot for many escaping big cities like Chicago, for snow birds who spend their winters in Florida, and teachers enjoying their summer hiatus. There are a few of us who live nearby. I’ve become one of the regulars, missing a rare “Holy Tuesday,” like when I attend a week up at Siever’s doing batik.

A detail from one of my batik dish towels made at Siever's

Wow, that led right to another subject I was pondering. I’ve had the feeling lately that something has been missing from my summer routine. And summer is over. Batik, Seiver’s. That’s it! I didn’t go this summer. I didn’t attend a workshop at U of Minnesota’s Split Rock Arts Program either. But I understand that program no longer exists. For the last 10 years I’ve been enjoying these two venues, learning and practicing fiber arts with wonderful teachers, and meeting many talented and friendly student artists. It has been great reuniting with batik artists year after year, hearing what has happened in their lives during the intervening months. My daughter-in-law has been among them. We’ve shared accommodations, delicious meals at Washington Island restaurants, class camaraderie, and dye pots. What a Joy! That’s what I missed this summer.

My batik inspired by a photo of a surveyor's mark .

While I miss my annual batik friends, I get to be with my knitting friends every week. What an amazing gift it is to belong to such a group. We share so much. It’s not just the help we give each other with knitting problems, that binds us. That kind of help you can get online. The real sharing is what is happening in our lives. And, yes, what one says at knitting stays at knitting. So I won’t be spilling any beans here. One thing I find very encouraging is that even the most experienced knitters still have occasion to “tink.” I like the fact that there are no yarn snobs, or knitters vs. crocheters. The “open” in open knitting is just that. We are a group that takes pleasure in the efforts of everyone, hats to socks, scarves to prayers shawls, pot holders to afghans, subtle to flamboyant. There are those who do gorgeous projects in their comfort zones and those who relish the delight of success arising from trial and error. It’s all good. AND WE LAUGH!

If you belong to a knitting group, you know what I’m talkin’about. If not, GET THEE TO A GROUP!

Wool Tickles

I’m not referring to the physical sensation of wool which can range from luxurious and sensual to down-right itchy. I’m talkin’ the tickle from the inside when you get to play with it. I have spent the last month playing with my dyes and my fibers. I get such a kick seeing what happens with colors blending, bleeding their lives into each other, making new colors I hadn’t thought of. The unexpected, unplanned, or accidental, turn out to be so rich, complex, and sometimes stunning.

I tend toward formal arrangement in my art, planning, and calculating for predictable results. I am working on being less controlling.  Seeing the beauty of the unplanned has been very encouraging to me. I’m beginning to welcome the possibilities of results that are actually better than my original ideas.

As I have been playing, I’ve been recognizing how each different process produces very different outcomes. Each step changes the fiber’s color or appearance. The color of the roving concentrates as the fibers twist with each other. While spinning, it thrills me to see one color morph as I draw another shade or color out gradually from the dyed roving. Add multiple plies and we’re adding another whole dimension. And yarn spun from colored fiber, either dyed roving or card blended, is much different from dyed yarn.

My planning self likes the wide range of possibilities of dyeing yarn. I’ve done batik and shibori, so, naturally, I needed to try resist dyeing with yarn. 

Having done some stranded and fair isle knitting, I tried dyeing for a faux fair isle effect. Recycling plastic grocery bags, I cut strips to tie areas I wanted to resist the dye. In some cases, I dyed the yarn then added the ties and over-dyed. 

One can get pretty predictable results. Swatching reveals the general effect but that varies with gauge and stitch count. I was playing with sock yarn so I swatched in the round. 

Once I saw what I had done, I couldn’t wait to adjust the tie pattern or try another color combination. The possibilities are endless, especially if I welcome the unexpected.

I’m going back to my Dyeary now. I’m going to giggle out loud while I play so my family will know how much fun I’m having.

Giggle often. And Good Stitches

Musical Rooms

“Are you taking over another room?” This is a refrain I have heard numerous times from my husband during the twenty-some years we have lived in this old farmhouse. He writes. He sits at the kitchen table with his computer. That’s all the room he requires. Me? I craft. Need I say more? There are five rooms downstairs. Of those, the kitchen is the only room I spend time in regularly.

Upstairs is a different story (pun intended). There is our bedroom/sitting room where I knit and read. My studio contains, well, studio stuff. It has been used for dyeing, spinning, felting, quilting, puppet making, and various other enthusiasms. There is an area that contains my desk, shelves of reference books, and archival boxes holding genealogical materials. In a previous incarnation, this room was a family/TV room.

My son’s bedroom has been inhabited over the years by several of his siblings. Most recently, it held my quilting stash, which has been packed into bins and relegated to the basement.

What is now a bathroom, had been a big walk-in closet and then my darkroom. Thanks to digital cameras I no longer need to closet myself in the dark with smelly chemicals, but I still sometimes mourn “real” photography.

The final two rooms are small with no heat. Remember, we are talking 1890’s “old” farmhouse. One has shelves and bins of supplies and equipment for batik, shibori, felting, and var... oth... enth...s.

The other was set up as an ebay room. Shelves hold stuff we thought we could sell. My son and I catalogued, and photographed all the items, but never actually committed ourselves to spending the time selling. This is the room that is about to be repurposed. It will become my “Dyeary.”  I will also do my carding in this room. But first, I need to empty it. Yup, more bins and boxes for the basement. We cannot, must not get rid of anything!

We are still experiencing uncommon heat. Algoma is on Lake Michigan. It’s a place where people come to cool off. Right now Algoma is 91 degrees. The Dyeary will be a dream until an 80 degree day, possibly 85. For now, I’m going to finish my second sock.

Be cool and Good Stitches

Hot New Group

Like a lot of the country we’ve been experiencing extreme heat. I’ve managed to survive by claiming a spot on the old wooden swing out in the side yard. It’s shaded by a maple tree with a trunk that measures about 170 inches around. It was planted over a hundred years ago when our farmhouse was built. The bark on the tree and the wood on the swing have acquired a lovely shade of gray-green over the years. This is the first time in the twenty-some years we have lived here that the swing has experienced such extensive use. Usually the east wind off of Lake Michigan, a couple of miles away, has been too cool for prolonged periods of swinging. But this week, “cooler by the lake,” a phrase popular with local forecasters has a welcome ring. Yesterday, winds from the west cancelled out any lake effect cooling. We suffered along with the rest of you. 

My time on the swing has been spent working on a pair of socks for myself. Yes, I’m trying again. I decided to make anklets this time. The heel of the first sock has been successfully turned, and the simple round and round stockinette of the foot easily managed by my over heated brain. A new dishcloth is taking shape from the strand off a cone of variegated cotton. No grand design, complicated stitch or mitered square, it’s just plain old back and forth garter.

During the many hours of happy swing stitching, I have not been alone. I have acquired a new group of knitting companions. Just like at open knitting at Spin, my LYS, the number of attendees varies. Here, the group numbers from one to twenty-nine. That’s the number of strutting, clucking, pecking chickens my son lets loose in the yard each morning. The “girls” seem to appreciate the shade of the old lichened maple, and the taste of the lilies of the valley that grow under the bridal wreath that borders the swing. 

A Welsummer among the shredded lilies of the valley.

We enjoy a cluckish companionship. A Buff Orpington occasionally hops up and sits next to me for a short visit. A silver- laced Wyandotte circles the swing, pecking at my knitting basket after completing each circuit. 

A basket pecking Wyandotte.

When they flock around, peering up at me, I’m not sure if they are clucking compliments on my yarn selections or offering helpful technical tips. Looking at their tiny heads containing tiny chicken brains, I realize that I may be reading too much into our conversation.

After a while, one hen will wander off to some other shady spot with others casually following, or the whole flock will suddenly flap-run noisily across the yard’s expanse. They’re all under the far apple tree now, but I know that sooner or later my new group, my knitting biddies, will be back.

Be cool, and good stitches.

A Yarn Yarn

This yarn started with a lunch date with my cousin, Jackie. We meet in Cedarburg, Wisconsin, which is about half way between where we live, she in Barrington, IL, and I just north of Alaska, WI. This is a semi-regular, semi-annual affair. I arrived early in order to check out the Cedarburg Woolen Mill. I entered the shop where I inquired about purchasing some wool. The clerk made a phone call to a lady who met me in the back hall and led me down into the basement. There were the milling machines and piles of fleece to be carded, and piles already processed, and wool related tools. A cloud of wool lover’s heaven in a basement! The lady showed me what she had available and I selected some merino roving. Putting the large ball in a container near the ancient scale, she wound a smaller ball from it and weighed it until it was the amount I requested. She repeated the same process with a beautiful natural dark brown roving.

Since that lovely afternoon with my cousin, I have been working away at my merino roving, 2 ounces here, 4 ounces there. Two examples can be seen in my April 28^th post, “Friday is Dyeday.” The yarn I’m writing about today was spun from a little over 4 ounces that were dyed with Greener Shades Dyes. I presoaked the roving in a 3:1 solution of water/vinegar for 30 minutes, then gently squeezed out the excess liquid. I placed the roving in what I call a snaky arrangement in the bottom of my dyepot which contained enough water to make the wool “squishy” (a technical term meaning not covered, but enough to prevent burning while the steaming process takes place).

My dye record indicates that I used equal amounts of GS’s, Ruby Red, Sunshine Yellow and Sunset Orange. I poured the dye solution randomly over the yarn, and with a gloved hand gently pressed down on the roving to make sure it had contact with the dye. I covered the pot and steamed the wool for 30 minutes at 170 degrees. When the water was clear, I knew that the fiber had absorbed all the dye. I let it cool, and rinsed it without agitation, for I try to make felt only when I want to.

When my roving was dry, I divided it into eight long strips of pencil roving, being careful to mark with a knot of yarn the beginning of each strip. I spun four pencils each on two bobbins. As each pencil was ending I attached the next section at the yarn knot end. I thought that would help produce a more coordinated stripe when I plied the yarn from both bobbins. It would have, if each pencil had been the exact same thickness, and if my spinning had been very precise. Since I’m not a machine, it didn’t happen. I really didn’t expect it to, and I’m glad it didn’t. I love the effect I achieved.

I designed a simple lace and bobble scarf for the yarn and I’m very satisfied with the result. The 4 ounces was enough to make the scarf which measures 5 ½ inches wide and 55 inches long. I was glad that I decided, from the beginning, to use a lifeline at each repeat of the pattern. I ended up having to use it twice. It was well worth the minor inconvenience. (See a lifeline in my May 12 post, “Mellow Yellow.”) I kept an eye on the amount of yarn I had left, and when I thought that I would not have enough for another repeat and the end rows, I ended the repeat I was working on, knitted the end rows and had a small ball of .2 ounces left.

My ball of merino roving is shrinking fast. I think I need to email Jackie and see when she’s free to “do lunch.”

Happy stitching and dyeing and spinning.

 Its International Yarn Bombing Day

And I almost missed it! Today I received a box in the mail from Sievers School of Fiber Arts. It contained three new Louet spinning wheel bobbins that I ordered the day before yesterday. What great service (Thanks, Ann). Last year on IYBD I was at Sievers enjoying a week of Batik when someone reminded me of yarn bombing which I had been introduced to the year before. While my waxed fabric was in the dye pot, I took time out to go to School House Beach and make my small contribution to the day. 

The wonderful Washington Islanders are very protective of their beautiful beach as you can see from the sign pictured below.

With that in mind, I used cotton crochet thread to form a net around one of the smooth rounded rocks that the beach is famous for. 

No rock beings were harmed in the process.

The net form was my tribute to the fishing culture that still remains, reflecting the rich heritage of this island of Native Hurons, French missionaries and voyageurs, and Scandinavian settlers.

If you aren’t familiar with yarn bombing I would suggest you get a hold of Yarn Bombing: The Art of Crochet and Knit Graffiti, by Mandy Moore and Leane Prain. And if you plan to take part in this interesting art form, please be kind to the environment.

Happy Stitches.