What Housework?

My three-month socks

You remember my personal sock challenge in 2008, right? A pair a month.

Ha.

I did fine, as you can see in the sidebar, until I hit the April socks, Ann Budd's Diagonal Cross-Rib socks from Interweave's Favorite Socks book. Made with my own handpsun, no less. Well, they're finally done and I'm relieved to say they were totally worth the struggle:

They are comfortable and fit well. And the yarn was special, as it came from a small amount of superwash Merino:

 and a lot of dyed Border Leicester:

I blended the batts myself:

 

The Border Leicester is special because it belongs to my Sophie, shown here without it:

Keep in mind this is Border Leicester, not Blue-Faced Leicester. Big difference. BL is a long curly lock, almost like mohair. It takes dye beautifully and is almost luminescent. It is strong but not particularly soft. It was surprisingly fluid to spin but the final yarn is a bit coarse. Probably overspun, but that's okay.

The pattern itself was not hard, although I question why I chose something requiring me to twist every 7th stitch every other row for the whole damn sock. (No offense to Ann Budd intended; this is a wonderful, straightforward pattern, in the right hands.)  I faithfully made the twists in reverse for the second sock, so they are mirrored. For some reason, I just didn't get into a rhythm and it appeared I'd never finish.

But I was motivated: We're going camping tomorrow and I needed a new sock for the trip. My daughter wanted spending money so I hired her to dye a skein of merino/bamboo. This girl is good:

Same skein, other side:

I'm resisting my desire to make another patterned sock. This one's going to be plain and quick, and I'll be able to work on it while lounging by the lake or chatting by the campfire...

...when I'm not spinning this, that is:

You can't tell from the picture, but I made a whopping 16 two-ounce batts of 60/40 gray wool and black alpaca. It's delicious! Besides going crazy updating the shop, getting ready for camping, and all that, I managed to blend two pounds of fiber on the carder. Then I recarded each batt once. Then I split each batt four ways and recarded each quarter with a quarter from a different batt. There is still quite a lot of depth to the color but hopefully the dark and light are distributed evenly enough so I won't end up with one black sleeve and one gray one.

In truth, I may not end up spinning at all. I may start the Putney Aran instead. Or maybe both. I have spent more time packing up patterns, yarn, needles, and notions than I have sorting clothes, camping gear, and food. We'll starve but I'll be happy.

Now, I did update A Piece of Vermont Yarn & Fiber yesterday. I hate to give a full recap because there is a mailing list specifically for people who want to be notified of new yarn and fiber. And not everyone who reads this blog is interested in buying stuff. So, I'll keep it brief. I put up new Merino/Bamboo/Nylon superwash sock yarn in six colorways, including these:

   

 

I also put up a bit of the new "Bristol" Real Vermonter. I had more, but I ended up wholesaling it locally. I have just these, Wisteria, and Undyed:

 

I have some spinning fiber, too. Bamboo/merino top:

 

In case you've forgotten, this fiber spins up like this:

   

And last, I finally uploaded the note cards I had promised. Here's one of the eight available:

One thing: Any orders placed after Friday at 11:00 a.m. won't get shipped until the 7th.

Have a great weekend and Fourth and all that. I'll be knitting and spinning in the great outdoors, weather permitting, until the 6th. See ya.

Socks of Eternity, you are vanquished. 

Fun with fiber

Why Dave is cheering

I thought I've give you a series of three photos of Dave the Peacock going into display mode (note the blur of furiously shaking hiney fluff):

And just what is Dave all worked up about? Why, because I've finally uploaded Bristol, the new Real Vermonter yarn!!!!!!!

Here are two skeins of it, balled up and ready to be turned into stranded mittens.

So far, they look like this:]

(Excuse the color problem; I took this picture at 5:00 this morning, under incandescent lights and before coffee.) It's hoping to turn into one of the mittens from Charlene Schurch's Mostly Mittens book. But I dropped way down in needle size and at the moment it looks like these might get renamed "Kevlar Mittens." Snow and wind won't get through them. Shrapnel, either. Hopefully, they'll turn out well.

The dark plum was kettle-dyed and is pretty much solid, but there are some variations in it (I'm new at kettle dyeing, but I like the way it looks.) I have more of that colorway for sale:

As well as these, and more (which are stored on my other computer and so not available, don't ask):

I also swatched up some of the undyed:

It's FABULOUS!!!

Seriously, I am not just saying that. If you want the specs, this is a 2-ply sport-weight yarn that yields 1200 yards per pound after dyeing. Each 4-ounce skein gives you 300 yards, but almost every skein is well over 4 ounces, some as high as 4.7. The yarn is soft but toothy (the only word I could think of to describe it). The alpaca adds softness and maybe a tiny bit of drape, but as you can see by the cable above, it does hold its shape. Not only is it beautiful, and unique, and so different from standard-issue generic yarn, it was made entirely in Vermont of entirely Vermont fiber and it is "Greenspun," processed using vegetable oils, not petroleum-based products.

I am going to be dyeing more when time permits (did I mention summer vacation starts at 3:00 today???) and I'll be kettle dyeing some, too. I have already decided that I need to make an Aran sweater with this, and what better pattern than Lisa Lloyd's Putney Aran, right out of the Green Mountain Spinnery Knitting Book?  I noticed on Ravelry that no Raveler has made, or at least posted, this pattern. This is surprising to me given how pretty it is, but I did see while reading through the book that the chart is incorrect. I don't mean it had a typo, I mean it's practically a different chart altogether. That may be why it's not so popular and I imagine it caused all kinds of hair-pulling at the Spinnery when the book came out. On the bright side, the correct chart is available at the Spinnery website, and I think it would be a great homage to the fine people there if I made one of their sweaters from this yarn.

Anyway. Remember my never-ending, soul-sucking, tedious Diagonal Cross-Rib April socks? I finished one.

Not too shabby, eh? (My handspun, partly from my sheep.) The second sock was already in progress and the heel is turned, so it should be a matter of hours before I finish that one. But I swear I worked on this sock for weeks, a bit every day, and it took approximately 239 hours to do the foot. I don't know why.

I do know my next socks will be plain.

In less than two weeks, we leave to go camping for 10 days, and I am already planning out a knitting extravaganza. I will bring along yarn for the abovementioned plain socks; the stranded mittens; possibly a two-colored ski hat my nephew requested; possibly my Gothic Leaf Stole which marked its anniversary as a WIP recently; and, if it's not too hot, my future Putney Aran. I think if I worked on the Aran exclusively, I could finish it at camp. My own summer knitting Olympics, if you will.

I am throwing in some flower pictures here not only to let you know that things are beautiful here, but also to lighten the cloud that has been bearing down on our household ever since my husband accidentally DRAINED OUR POND.

You know how it is. You tell your husband you'd like to rake the weeds away from the edges of the pond so you can start swimming in it. He naturally ignores you and hires an excavator to take a huge backhoe and remove several inches of dirt and wildlife from the bottom of the pond. The backhoe inadvertently hooks the chain that connects to the plug of the 15" underwater pipe that drains the (manmade) pond, and in minutes you have a 1/2-acre mud crater where once you had a small but charming mini-ecosystem. Thanks to a natural inflow of water (about a gallon every two minutes), it appears your pond will be full again in, oh, three months to 10 years.

While you thumb through the phone book looking up a good divorce lawyer, your husband insists that this is the best possible way to handle things (isn't giant machinery always the best solution?) since it's easier to clean the pond out when it's empty. Lucky for him, during your week-long stoney silent treatment, a giant rainstorm comes and destroys roads and driveways all over the county but also miraculously makes the pond full of water again. You walk down to the pond this morning and discover frogs, two turtles, and deer tracks, and grudgingly tear up the lawyer's phone number.

Now that we are speaking, we are discussing plans to buy a windmill-driven aerator to oxygenate the water, which will not only make the pond healthier and clearer for swimming but may also allow us to stock it with some fish.

I don't dare mention the recent heat wave or it might come back. But it would be nice to have a swimming pond, is all I'm saying.

I have one hour until school is out till fall. Do I have time to write tomorrow's column?

Yeah, right.
 

Bzzzzzzz...

 

Hear that buzzing sound? My husband and I heard it all day yesterday and finally figured it out when we sat down on the porch for a beer before dinner.

Bees. There's one in the photo up there.

Big bumblebees, feasting on the nectar of black-locust blossoms.

Our yard is full of these trees, which it turns out are actually a nuisance species. But the short-lived blossoms make the whole yard smell delightful and attract orioles and, apparently, hordes of big, bumbling, buzzing, bumblebees. (Then 200 million petals drift down from the trees and settle several inches thick on your porch furniture. Day after day.)

Other things make a buzzing sound, too.

 

I had a few interruptions that didn't allow me to get the hummingbird photos until the good light had faded, but I did get this one perching for a moment on our clothesline:

We're all about the birds. This week, we have some sad bird news. First of all, Daisy is no longer with us. My light Brahma hen, she would have turned five years old this month. It's a little graphic to go into on the blog, but let's just say the three tom turkeys are murderers. Deviants, too.

On another sad note, we are down to just two turkey poults!

Trixie has finally started roosting in the turkey house again, instead of sleeping in the middle of the field. But poult #3 apparently fell off the roost and into the goats' sleeping quarters and got rolled on during the night.

Meanwhile, gray turkey Rose has disappeared, likely on a nest but possibly fox food. And the peahen is gone, too. We knew she was nesting in the woods, but she hasn't been home for her every-other-day afternoon snack in a few days. She might have hatched her babies and is busy helping them find food closer to the nest. Or she may have been eaten. I'll keep you posted.

We've been super busy in the garden. So far there's not much to show for our efforts, except the peas. I think pea vines are lovely.

  

These two are holding hands:

Cliche tractor photo:

The piglets are growing fast. I couldn't get good photos because of two electric fences between me and them but you get the idea.

Polly:

Chip, with something to say:

      

Now, this is supposed to be a knitting blog. Confession: I am still struggling with my handspun April socks, which are taking FOREVER. No pictures. Besides, I have plenty of other yarn and fiber stealing my attention, although nothing new on the wheel or the needles. I WILL finish those damn socks before our annual camping trip at the end of the month.

I forgot to mention in my last post a gift I received from Rainbow Yarns Northwest: Two bumps of incredibly decadent and luxurious spinning fiber. The first is called First Love and is a blend of 75 percent Pygora and 25 percent silk.

The second is an undyed blend of 75 percent Pygora and 25 percent superfine Merino:

Pictures don't do this fiber justice. I have no idea what I will do with these, other than bury my face in them now and then. But when I find the right project, these will be fabulous.

Meanwhile, at A Piece of Vermont Yarn & Fiber, I have nothing  really new, but things will be coming soon. I just sent a small wholesale yarn order off to Kaleidoscope Yarns here in Vermont. And on Wednesday, my partner in crime Jenn and I made a return road trip to Green Mountain Spinnery to pick up my newest Real Vermonter yarn order. Ta-da!

  

I am in LOVE with this yarn! The folks at the Spinnery outdid themselves, as did the Vermont sheep and alpacas who contributed their fiber. It's a 2-ply sport weight and I have 37 pounds of it. As soon as I finalize the name, the price, and all that jazz, it will be available for sale. I have just dyed up the first few skeins and while they do look fantastic, I'm pretty partial to the undyed color, which has a touch of fawn-colored alpaca that gives it a golden tinge. It smells like real sheep, and while that may not appeal to everyone, to me it underscores the fact that this is 100 percent Vermont yarn. I've met the animals that produced the fiber and the people who spun it. And it's "Greenspun," the Spinnery's term for their special milling process that uses petroleum-free spinning oils. Heaven, I tell you. 

I know it's bad PR for my commercial yarns and fibers when I gush so about Vermont fiber and small-mill fibers and yarns with provenance and all that. But I can't help myself. This yarn is so yarn-y and unique and sheepy and textural and anything but mass-produced, I just have to sing it out. I'll have some ready for you (dyed and undyed) by next week. I wish you could smell this stuff. I've been huffing it all morning. I hope that's legal.

And, to wrap up this very long post, two more quick things.

1. Thank you for all your yarn name suggestions. I am still working on final names and I'll let you know when all is said and done. I am still taking entries, if you have more.

2. I'm about to expand beyond yarn and fiber. I have recently purchased a batch of hand-printed wood-block notecards by a local artist, which will be on sale next week. Here's a sneak preview of one of her 8 designs:

Love them.