Spring Days And Dyeing Yarns

There has been a bit of a binge on yarn-dyeing chez Celtic Memory. Partly the sense of spring in the air - it's been chilly enough these past few days, but nevertheless the sense of things speeding up is unmistakeable. The mistle thrushes are building in a pollarded eucalyptus, the robins are squabbling with the bluetits over the best nest boxes, and the dearest little baby rabbit has appeared in the rose garden.

He's a little bit different this munchkin: if you look closely you can see he has only one ear. There don't seem to be any scars or signs of trauma, so we wonder if he was actually born that way. It doesn't affect his appetite or his joie de vivre and his little sister (who appears briefly from time to time, she's a little shy) plays with him as happily as if he were the handsomest brother any girl could wish for. Which indeed he is.

Well of course he's called Van Gogh. What else could we christen him?

But back to the yarn dyeing. I skeined up two lots of the Rescue Shetland from the Shed in the Woods and one of a rather nice sockweight lambswool I got from Texere Yarns. Used scarlet and yellow (Procion), which blended into orange where they met, and hung them out to dry in the dancing breeze.

Pretty bright, huh? I almost had to put on my sunglasses to look at them. Still, we learn by doing.

Trouble developed, though, when it came to winding up the dried skeins. While the lambswool came through beautifully, the Shetland broke every few yards. I took extra care, not pulling it at all, but it simply separated at these inexplicable weak spots which had certainly not been there before. So regular were these breaks that I wondered if it had been the placing of the yarn against the rim of the dyepot for too long, or perhaps a twist in the skein? At a loss to understand it, and would welcome opinions.

The increased activity could also well have to do with the lull in Sock Madness. Round Two has finished and we are nervously awaiting the onset of Round Three with the release of an entirely unknown pattern. You get into a sort of frantic habit of knitting every second, every moment, and that's hard to break. So you look for other projects, other short-starters, to keep you occupied, instead of worrying, trying to second-guess the organisers of this hugely successful (but hugely stressful) event.

As all those participating will I am sure agree, though, it has been a lovely competition so far with regard to friendliness, helpfulness, general camaraderie among contestants. Even when you know that only so many can go through, everybody is still so positive and nice that it's a totally happy time.

(Just don't ask me to be positive and happy when I'm frantically trying to untangle mistakes at 3 am within the next week or so... )

The slight glitches with the yarn dyeing might have had something to do with it, but it has to be confessed that Celtic Memory yielded at last to Lisa Souza temptation. Well, how could anyone log on to that site and not be seduced, drawn in, scrabbling for her credit card even as she stares in disbelief at the stunning colourways? How I kept to ordering just three I do not know. Here they are:

Elektra -

Can't-elope -

- and Emerald City.

Aren't they unbelievable? Lisa is a pet, and emailed me yesterday to say they'd just been posted. How long do you think they'll take to get here? HOW LONG DO YOU THINK THEY'LL TAKE TO GET HERE? I CAN'T WAIT! WANT THEM NOW!

Peadar came to mow the lawns the other day, and since I was wearing my bright CTH Fall Foliage Glitz socks (trying to see if they will soften a bit with use), I demanded that he admire them. He chuckled, but then, quite out of the blue, told me of a Kate O'Neill who, long ago when he was young, used to come to their farm every year at the same time, to knit socks for the whole family. They would provide the yarn, she would stay for a week or so, being given her bed and board, and would make the socks to measure. Now isn't that a nice bit of local history? And I had no idea! Now that I do, though, I shall ask around a lot more. I knew about tailors who travelled around and made the clothes required in different households each year, but I hadn't known about the socks.

He also mentioned the women who were experts at cutting 'sceallans' or the chunks of potato with the eye, for planting. They too would go from house to house at the right time of year, trading their expertise for bed and board. Isn't there a lot more history out there than we dream of, or than the experts are interested in?

Ignorance was geting irritating, so a short-row toe-up sock was essayed yesterday. Used a leftover ball of Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino as it had good stitch definition and I could see what I was doing. Managed the provisional crochet cast on (thanks Deb, fellow Sock Madness contestant for all the really helpful and clear guidance) and didn't find the short rows too difficult (although picking up two wraps along with a stitch was a little awkward).




Here it is in progress, with the provisional cast on still very much in evidence (yes, you can tell DH was off working, can't you? I am simply not competent with a camera).




and here is the completed toe, ready to gallop up the foot. It is certainly great fun being able to work away, knowing there is no grafting waiting for you at the end, but still I feel the cuff-down is more practical, because you can more easily repair a worn-out toe. Nice to have both options though.


Some of you have courteously enquired after Tasha (more properly, La Princesse Natasha de St. Petersburg II) who appears rather less often than Muffy and Sophie in these pages. Tasha doesn't put herself about much, preferring elegant seclusion, but she does permit the occasional image.




Here she is in her palanquin, at ease and elegantly charming as always.




Muffy the Yarnslayer resents that private palanquin muchly and can't go by without muttering insults. From this picture you will however see that the whites-of-eyes are not confined solely to Muffy. Tasha may be a grande dame, but she's no lilybud when it comes to a scrap.


Must go check again whether the yarn requirements for Round Three of Sockmadness have been posted yet. Who would have thought one contest could capture the imagination and competitive instinct of so many knitters?