Final Dye Day Report

These are the last two bumps of roving that I needed to spin up from our dye day in Grass Valley last month. I'm not bothering to show you the one on the right as yarn - it's yellow. Yes, I've learned my lesson about yellow.



The blues bump on the left was more rewarding. I had spun another skein similar to this, but this has no yellow - *no* yellow.



I think the skein is nice and certainly will contrast well with the many yellows I seem to have produced from that session. I thought that I had left a lot of white space when I was dropping dye, but I'd like to try it again with even more white space, and perhaps a wider range of colors in between the white.



This is my final haul. I'm pretty happy and ready to start a project hat. I love the locks in my basket, but I'm holding off on working them up as Amy and I are presenting a program at the library next month. I think they will be nice to display. We're not quite sure what the program will be so we have called it From Sheep to Shawl. The general idea is to cover the steps from fleece to garment. I think we'll have fun.

Buster's Cat

This is Buster. This is Buster's cat Charlie. Buster did not chose to be adopted by Charlie - he was chosen. Charlie loves his dog. I'm not so sure the feeling is mutual, although Buster gives his cat a lick (pretaste?) every now and then.









Charlie has also decided to be Buster's bunkmate, a begrudging arrangement - Buster does his best to ignore the intrusion. For a dog whose instincts are to eat rabbits, birds and small cats, I find his tolerance remarkable. Maybe Charlie knows more about Buster than I do.

I know that cats aren't supposed to eat dog food, though the cat and the dogs all get Iams dry food. Perhaps Charlie can't tell the difference. Since we got Charlie as a small kitten, I wonder if he has bonded with Buster to the point he thinks he's a dog. Is that possible? I'll never let Charlie outside because I'm quite sure Eddie would eat him given the opportunity and no question the coyotes would love to meet Charlie. It's hard work to keep a cat indoors who doesn't want to be a cat who lives indoors.




I had a gazillion things to do in town today and when I got home, I plunked my junk on the counter, while chatting with Ian. I walked back around the counter and almost tripped over these guys. They had greeted me, and happy that their owners were home and soothed by our voices, they were over and out. My camera was a plunked-on-the-counter article so I couldn't resist another picture of Buster being tortured by his cat.

What a Difference a Day Makes

Yesterday morning I took my camera when I walked the dogs because I wanted to share a picture of the blooming desert peach. Unfortunately my battery was low so I decided I would just take my camera again today with a freshly charged battery and take the same picture. You would never be the wiser.

This is what I woke to this morning. That little hillock is a coyote rabbit trap. You can't see my dogs but they're down at the fence, barking viciously at the coyotes. The coyotes work in twos, from left to right. One goes over the top and the other traverses along the ridge. It works every time. The coyote that stays in sight urges the rabbit to run for his life, right up and over the ridge to the other waiting coyote. Soon we'll see them work in threes as this the time when they start training their pups to hunt. They don't even put a dent into the rabbit population.

I can't see the coyotes unless they move, they just blend in so well. And even if I've spotted one, it's easy for me to lose sight. Usually my dogs come back to the door after the excitement is over, but not today. About fifteen minutes later I happened to look out the window and see my dogs down there, looking to give some coyotes a piece of their minds and probably some other body parts. I called them back and they minded me instantly, raced all the way back up the hill, back through the gate and into the house. After more than ten years of German Shorthair Pointers, I'm always amazed at how well these boys mind.

Spinning the Dye Day Rovings

I think the fun of dyeing in the roving is the discovery of how the colors work up into a yarn.




Even during the spinning, until it's plied, I don't what the yarn will look like. And actually the yarn may look like something completely different when it's worked up.



I was so excited when this skein was done. Notice the little piece in front of skein - little boast here. I guessed so closely how much to put on each bobbin - that little piece is all that was left on the remaining bobbin. I went right up to my workroom and basket of one-balls to see what I could put together for a hat and found the answer was nothing. The base colors we used in the dye workshop didn't harmonize with the colors that I have been using, so I keep on spinning - like I wouldn't anyway.


While there's too much yellow here to be what I had intended, I still think it's going to make up into a nice yarn. The green just got subsumed.




This is what I have so far, I'm plying a yellow green now, and then I'll do the blue violet roving. I'm not going to launch any projects until I have them all done.

Karmic Christmas Present

This is a snippet of the gallery that hangs in our hall, photos received as presents we received this past Christmas. Ian's four children got together, hired a photographer and had their pictures taken on Seal Beach, where they grew up, wearing white and blue jeans, as seen on the left. My children hired a photographer and had their pictures taken on the UNR campus,where I worked when they were growing up, wearing white and blue jeans. They were totally unaware of what each other were doing. We just got the last one framed and now have them all hung. I call that karma.

It's Still Sheep and Llamas

We've noticed that our black sheep George tends to hang out with the llamas. He eats with them and always seems to be where they are. I fished around on the Internet to see if that behavior is source of the term "black sheep," but I couldn't find anything that relates to term to animal behavior. It seems to be something coined for human behavior. George is an odd duck, a bit reticent, so perhaps he just hangs with llamas because he wants to hang with llamas. He's the one who comes to fence and rubs noses with Buster, our Queenie.



Here, on the other hand, here are the light sheep. Robbie is the dominant in this group. He won an award at the Lane County Fair in Eugene for best yearling lamb. He wasn't wethered until after the fair so has a wonderful set of horns. (To see them, click for big.) Our grandson Kiernan named him Robbie the Ram, (in Kiernan-speak that's Wobbie the Wam) because his daddy is a fan of the St. Louis Rams. Mim points out that he's actually Wobbie the Wetheu.


In the end, it's still sheep and llamas. What you see is our mama llama moving the sheep back to the shed. She lowers her head and walks their way and they run. They acted scared for their lives, but when they get there, they stop, wait for her to turn around and then follow her back. A woman who lives across the valley told me that she loves to watch our guys through her field glasses. They really are wonderful entertainment.

Fickle , Fickle April

This was one day.












This was the next.





And this was the next. The morning of this photo, I drove 15 miles on ice to get to work.





Nevada is oh-so-fickle, especially in Spring. I did get stuck in Sacramento one September when the pass was closed because of snow - went over for a dinner. One never knows, does one.

The Center of Everything

I love to visit independent bookstores. For one thing, they tend to have displays of staff favorites. A couple of years ago, Amy, Eileen and I were at Lambtown USA and drove over to Davis for dinner and a walk around the town. Understand that Lambtown is in July in the San Juaquin Valley of California so we were looking for inside places to visit, and one of them was a bookstore who's name escapes me. I bought this book as a recommendation and recently read it for a second time.

It's a first novel and written in the bildungsromans genre, which is just about my favorite. It's the story of ten-year-old Evelyn Bucknow, who feels there is no place like home. On all the world maps she's ever seen, the United States has been smack dab in the middle, with Kansas in the middle of that - "I feel so lucky to live here, right in the center." Dazzled by visions of Ronald Reagan on the TV, the twinkle in his eye and his contention that "God put America between two oceans on purpose," Evelyn's youthful optimism is shaken by her young single mother Tina's inability to take control of her life. The story spans several years. As a teenage, Evelyn is influenced by a couple of liberal-minded teachers, one from New York and the other an introverted biology instructor intent on teaching evolution. With renewed faith in her scatterbrained but endearing mother and with college on the horizon, she begins to find her place in the social and political spectrum and to appreciate the vastness of the world that extends beyond Kansas. The story treads the line between adolescence and adulthood, insecurity and self-assurance, and offers a moving portrait of life in blue-collar middle America.

I loved this book and look forward to her next which is supposed to come out later this year - hope she's not a one-book wonder.

Family Easter

We had soaking rain on Friday and Saturday so our grandkids had to hunt for their Easter eggs indoors. Six of our seven grandkids were here for Easter, though only five are of the egg hunt age. In addition to our adolescent grandson, we have two adolescent step-kids, so the house was full, as it should be at Easter. I think I took a dozen shots and still wasn't able to get a good picture of them all. Who got the golden egg?

It was Elise! And was there much rejoicing? Apparently not so much. Before the rain they were able to run around outside and get really really really dirty and do a lot of hiding in the bushes, and did I mention get dirty? I think they liked that just as much as anything - maybe more than hiding eggs.
My huge worry was when Ian told me that our kids from Redding would be bringing their new puppy. I lost sleep. The puppy would eat our kitty Charlie, and worse, our Queensland Blue Heeler would eat their puppy. I didn't realize that they were bringing the Dog Whisperer.

First Blossoms

I didn't see any desert peach in blossom on my walk yesterday. Today I saw this one. Within days whole areas of our landscape will be pink as they explode into bloom. They are very fragrant, and the insects love their nectar.

If you think this looks like wild rose, it is a relative. Mim named her farm Desert Peach Farm after them. They're the harbinger of high desert spring and I'm always delighted when they finally show their colors.


If you don't want them growing in your yard, you have to remove them when they're immature. Look at the size of these thorns on a mature plant!


On the other hand, you have the dry creek that runs through our property and for which our place is named, Sage Creek Farm. Guess why we call it Sage Creek.

Couple a' Bags

The bag on the left is from the natural dye day at Marilyn's last summer and the yarn is spun of luster long-wool, I think maybe Border Leicester. I'm not sure that it matters any more as knitted luster long-wools seems to felt up pretty much the same. The color sources are marigold for the gold, rose madder for the handles and (unseen) base and indigo overdyed on cottonwood for the teal. I'm going to knit another set of handles from the overdyed madder gray wool on the top. These are a bit too anemic for my taste. The bags change so drastically after being felted that it's hard for me to think how they'll look while I'm knitting.

Both of these bags have the same number of stitches, but the purple bag is from Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride and I think the crimpier wool felts different. It's narrower and taller. I'm trying to decide if this is important, and if so, how I can use it as a design element. I carry a squatty bag and it's easy to access the contents. I'm not so sure I'd like to carry the taller bag, though I like it's looks better. But then I have already admitted that I'm shallow and easily swayed by pretty appearances.

Morning Walk before Work

The morning walk has begun. We aren't even out of the driveway yet when our two boys are joined by their friend, Sammi. She's the new kid on the block and, while they disdain many dogs, they enjoy romping with her.


She's pretty cute and she minds, unlike the last dog those neighbors had. I am joined by several neighbor dogs when I walk, though most aren't interested or are behind fences which is a good thing.



The native grasses are just beginning to green. At this stage I have a hard time telling what's "good" grass from what's cheat grass. Cheat grass earns its name. It looks like grass early on, but it isn't palatable to the cows and horses and it quickly dries up and becomes fire tinder. Everyone is cheated. Just the same, it's nice to see green.

The desert peach is just getting its buds and will bloom in the next couple of weeks. Blooming seasons are short on the high desert and not easy to photograph. I hope you can see the green cast to Peterson Mountain in the background.


And now we are four. The dog of an elderly neighbor has joined us. The dog is elderly too. I worked hard to get four dogs in this picture. Most of the time they're in brush sniffing. They do a lot of sniffing and then they sniff each other. We ended our walk with a Western Meadowlark serenade.

Self Portrait.

Still No Sqwadge

This is the purple and gold yarn in a hat. Using Sue's definition of sqwadge, i.e., algae, swamp and frog, I couldn't be further away. It's all about trial and error - this isn't wrong, just different. I was reading an article about Miriam Kaye in the February issue of American Style. She is a mosaic artist who works in ceramic and cloth (quilts). She is an artist who has no formal training and little inclination to play safely by the rules. "The thrill is gone when you know what you're doing," she says with a shrug.



I think my colors are much closer to rock lichen. I saw some pretty cool color combinations in rock algae pictures too. The whole conversation with Sue and sqwadge started when I told her that all I seem to dye up this year is green and purple. I don't think anything has changed.

Palm Sunday

What are those geese looking at and what are the doing on the roof?!

I'm reminded of the nursery rhyme, "Here's the church, here's the steeple, open the door and out come the people." I got to church this morning to find an usher directing us inside through the adjoining community hall. One of the geese had flown down and attacked a parishioner and scared everyone else. After the dismissal, Father said that we could leave through whatever door we liked, but he was going to do what he does in the winter - stand inside.

Today is Palm Sunday. It is also Amy's special day. Be sure to wish her a happy birthday.

The Picture of March

I haven't posted twice in one day before but I just read Birdsong's blog and remembered that we agreed to post a picture the last day of each month to represent the whole month. I looked through my pictures and couldn't find anything that I hadn't already used. Then Ian called me outside to look at the wind clouds. Saved!! The pictures from my camera were kinda soggy. I decided to take the pictures with his DSLR and what a difference. He bought the same camera that Amy uses and not for the first time. We both have Nikons and I get better results indoors. I'm glad we have both cameras!



The pictures from my camera are on the left - his on the right. Mine aren't bad - his are better. I keep him for his camera.

Quest for Squawdge

These are my dye day mop-ups, and I'm sure they don't hold a candle to Lindsey's mop-ups. That woman needs a blog! The fact that I don't know if these locks are Bluefaced Leicester or Coopworth/Salish is a loud and clear message to me that I've lost control of my fiber stash. Until recently, all fiber bins in the garage were clearly labeled - I don't know what went wrong.

I had thought about separating the locks into colors, running each one through the drum carder, then holding them together when I spin. But I opened a couple of locks and I fell in love with them, so I guess I will probably just have to it the slow way, one flicked lock at a time. I can't believe how much work I put into my yarn, then sell the hats for commercial yarn prices. I'm just glad I can sell the hats so I can have an excuse to make more yarn.


These are the two skeins of brown and white Brown Sheep wool/mohair that I took to dye. I think the skein on the right is pretty close to what I like and always shoot for. I think the one on the left actually might be Squawdge - it's not as easy to get as you might think. We're watching the NCAA semi-finals and I'm knitting so should have a hat to submit for a vote very soon. Squawdge or no - you will get to vote.

Dye Day Results

I took 12 ounces of Brown Sheep combed top to the dye day. I tore it into four sections and the one on the right is the one Birdsong showed in her blog. She took a lot of pictures while she was deciding what she wanted to do. I had a hard time breaking away from my favorite colors of purple and green, and the first bump I did was in those predictable colors. The bump on the left is in Sara's primary colors of turquoise, violet and gold. I was surprised that Sara had them in her base colors, but they sure do look good.

I told Sue Flynn that I was struggling to break out of my color habit and she said I was leaning to Sara's favorites. I asked her what her's were -Swamp, she said. Swamp?! Algae, ooze and frog - so the bump on the right was my stab at Swamp. The frog got lost in the algae and afterwards I realized that, while I had underlined and starred a part of Deb Menz's book Colorworks, I hadn't internalized the information. She wrote, "Observe that the values of the cool colors are darker than those of the warm colors. The color on the color wheel with the lightest value is yellow. In a design, light values tend to jump out more than dark values do. A little yellow goes a long way because yellow at its most intense is the lightest color in value, and it is also a warm color." And that's why the algae ate my frog.

I also took two skeins of yarn that I spun from Brown Sheep mill end roving from Encampment, Wyoming. I had purchased the brown and white combed top that's wool and mohair. It's a little peculiar to spin because the ends are blunt from being cut from the mill, but it makes great yarn. The top skein again is the pure gold, turquoise and violet. The second skein is just gold and violet.




Here's a closeup so you can see how rich the colors are with the brown and white roving taking up the dye colors at different values. I'm going to try to do something like this with our Shetland fleeces. They're really little sheep but after a couple of years, their fleeces add up.

Dyeing

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I don't mean this as an advertisement, but the dyes I'll order after our Foothills Fiber Fiber Guild dye day are these Lanaset dyes: Navy (485), Blue (483), Scarlet (380), Magenta (385), Yellow (180), Mustard (182), Violet (880), Turquoise 480), Black (680) and WFR (338). WFR stands for Color Fast Red, and I'm not sure why I need that in addition to scarlet, but for the price of shipping and my confidence in Sara, I'm ordering them all. I love the mustard/gold - it turned out to be one of my favorites.