I'm Dyeing Here!

Dear Mom,
If learning to spin wasn't enough, on Saturday I learned how to dye all that wool. I took a beginner's dye workshop with Rita Petteys. The class was held at Tabby Tree Weaver.

Rita's company is Yarn Hollow, and much of the hand painted roving that I have purchased to spin has been hers.

I am glad that I didn't know ahead of time that I would be called upon to:

use the metric system

weigh and measure stuff in grams

do math 

because I might have talked myself out of the class.

As it was, Rita did an excellent job explaining the process and we all carried on with no tears, tantrums or nasty dye accidents.

In class we learned both immersion dyeing and hand painting. This workshop was focused on protein based fibers which include animal fibers, nylon, silk and soy. We started with immersion dyeing and a skein of yarn. The hard part was choosing a color. Rita suggested picking the OPPOSITE of our favorite color, which in my case meant that I would be using a green dye. I chose "Golden Pear". Because if it has to be green it may as well sound tasty. Plus, the Young Lady likes green.

We weighed and calculated and measured. Our yarns were soaked and the kettles were simmering.

Here is what my yarn looked like in the pot, after it had absorbed all the dye and while it was cooling:

The only good thing about our unseasonably frigid weather on Saturday was that it helped to speed up the cooling process.

Next up we learned how to hand paint a skein of yarn. This time I chose colors that make me happy.  We covered our workspace with plastic wrap, arranged our skeins into ovals and set about painting the yarn with our chosen dyes. Literally- sponge paintbrushes were dipped into jars filled with dyes and applied to the yarn at whim. I already have a plan for my bright red and orange yarn!

Then we moved on to hand painting on roving. I tried duplicating one of my favorite YarnHollow colorways, and then painted another roving working with colors I would not normally choose. The last bit of dyeing I attempted, because I thought that it would be what I will most likely try at home, was immersion dyeing the roving. This may be my favorite result of them all, and I can't wait to spin it and see how it looks. I dyed the superwash merino roving in "Turkey Red" - a very cranberry red.

Once cooled, the dyed fibers are hung out to dry. Here is a good sampling of most of what the class produced on Saturday-

Even after spending the day on the porch on a drying rack, my fibers are still damp. I hope that tomorrow they are dry enough that I can take a good picture and show them to you. Needless to say, I am catching myself daydreaming about dyeing enough roving to spin into enough yarn to make a really special sweater. And more.....

Love,

Kim  

May 9, 2010

Dear Mom, Kim and Wendy ~

Happy Mother's Day!

Love, Bonnie Jo

The Mini

Dear Mom,
On Saturday, the 34th annual 500 Festival Mini- Marathon kicks off the Month of May in Indianapolis. I think it was twenty years ago that I walked in my first mini-marathon. It was not my last mini.

It was my second to last.

That first marathon, I walked the 13-point-whatever miles with some co-workers. The dentist I was working for at the time was (and still is) an avid runner and he convinced some of us that we could do it. So we did. It was a bright, hot day. Perfect for a nice long walk. Until you are so hot and sweaty and hungry and your fingers have swelled so much that you can't make a fist, that you start praying for clouds and a significant drop in temperature. Back then the Mini was held just before the actual race at the end of the month, started at Monument Circle and finished at the track, forcing the participants to finish the last 2 1/2 grueling miles without shade, on hot asphalt and with your legs striking the pavement at different levels thanks to the banking of the track all while suffering the illusion that the next turn was within reach when really it was a mile away. But we got to cross the "yard of bricks" that is the finish line.Since then the race has been moved to early in the month, and the route has been changed. I think they still run on the track but it is only part of the race route.

The next year, with the promise of unlimited cookies at the finish, I convinced Wendy to walk with me. She was a nearly newlywed, still living in an apartment, and we trained separately, but boasted of our training progress. This was back in the days when a Sony Walkman was the hi-tech way of taking your music with you, and I can remember walking many miles and listening to Prince's (he was still Prince back then) Batman soundtrack. I don't know what Wendy listened to. Probably not Prince.

Our Race Day arrives and it is a rainy one. Wendy drives herself to my house, and I drive us to the track. We park and take a shuttle to Monument Circle and await the start of the race. Personally, even though my feet squelched with every saturated step, I felt good. I was not hot. It became clear about halfway through the race that Wendy was not feeling the joy. At one point I decided I couldn't walk that slow anymore and told her that I would meet her just past the finish line. "Turn left through the gate. I will be right there on the right side. Don't forget. There are cookies!!!" And on I went. I ended up finishing with my best time. I know. Best of two is not worth mentioning, but still. I crossed the finish line, grabbed some cookies and water and waited. And watched. And waited.

I finally see Wendy approaching the finish line. She manages to make it to the left through the gate, but in her dazed stupor, she walked straight past me and sort of winds her way in the opposite direction AWAY from the cookies. I fought my way through the crowd, grab her and saying the only thing it would be possible for her to comprehend, shout, "THE COOKIES ARE OVER HERE!!"

At this point, a miracle happens. Wendy is able to walk at a brisker pace than she was able to manage for the last hour. She has focus and determination. I direct her to the cookie table. She picks up one cookie, and her rain soaked, shaking hand is poised to take a second cookie when.... SLAP! Her hand is smacked away by the lady managing the cookie table. I was afraid Wendy would start to cry. I don't really remember much of what happened after that. I just know we found our way back to the car, threw modesty out the window and changed into dry clothes right there in the front seat of my Mazda and drove back to my house. I think we stopped for fast food burgers on the way.

I also remember that Wendy didn't have the energy to drive home and David had to come and get her. Sadly, I have no pictures from our rain soaked accomplishment. I cannot find the photo taken when I crossed that wet finish line all those years ago. I wonder if Wendy still has hers.

Love,
Kim

p.s. Yes, as revealed in the picture, I did walk with my t-shirt tucked in and I had a cute belt in my walking shorts. Clearly, I did not know what I was doing. I do know that I wore knit pants with an elastic waist the second year. Probably still had my shirt tucked in, though!

The Haircut

Dear Mom,
Pippers went from this:

To this:

And this:

So much nicer!
Love,
Wendy

The Graduate

Dear Mom,

She did it!
Love,
Kim

Pasta!

Dear Mom,
Several hours on Friday were spent getting a lesson in pasta making from Brother. I also asked him to teach me how to make Alfredo sauce,because Fettuccine Alfredo is one of My Hero's favorites. So off we went, just before noon, to purchase the ingredients and look at pasta machines. Our plan was to use Brother's pasta machine, but I wanted his expert advice when I purchased my own. I went ahead and bought one, knowing that I could return it (unused, of course) if I found the process too difficult.
We did not linger over ingredients or other kitchen gadgets. Being his father's son, we had a mission to accomplish and we were sticking to it! NO DETOURS.

We returned to my kitchen, found the least girlie apron that would fit him, and set about making pasta.

"This is STUPID EASY", he tells me.

He was right.

How can it be that egg and flour can be manipulated and formed into noodles? And why don't they boil into one messy blob in the pot? A kitchen mystery, and frankly, one that I had to see to believe.

Easy, but a little messy.

I am thinking that once I am a more efficient pasta maker, I won't have quite so much mess to clean up. Plus there were two cooks.

We made fettuccine noodles, then we proceeded to make Alfredo sauce. Again, Stupid Easy. But time consuming. I am not a fan of standing over a sauce pan and stirring. But I did it, and I'll do it again.

After Brother left, I went solo and made some ravioli. (Fettuccine Alfredo is not one of my faves. I much prefer ravioli, so while I was at it, I decided to make both.) I stuffed the ravioli with spinach, ricotta and feta cheese. Next time I will add some garlic, because my combo was a bit bland. I also tried a new tomato sauce recipe. It was good, but it didn't have the zing I wanted.

After literally spending the entire afternoon cooking and anticipating the meal, I was so anxious to taste everything that I forgot to take any pictures of the end results.

We all sat down and gobbled it up. My Hero said that it may be the best Fettuccine Alfredo he has ever eaten.......
What really happened is this:
I said, " Is it the BEST Fettuccine Alfredo you've ever had in your WHOLE LIFE?" and he said, " May be."
I think it was.

And I am keeping my pasta machine.

Love,
Kim

Coffee and Cookies Combined!

Dear Mom,
I have enjoyed 2 glorious days off from any kind of "work" so I took the days to be lazy and enjoy the yard, the weather (knitting outside!) and baking! I baked 4 loaves of Grams' Bread, otherwise known as Mercy Watson Toast, white chocolate chip cookies that were terrible (but eaten anyway!) and then these:

Coffee Bean Cookies

1/2 cup butter, softened

1/2 cup shortening

3/4 cup sugar

3/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar

2 large eggs

1 tsp. vanilla extract

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon

1 cup chopped almonds, toasted

1 cup chocolate-covered coffee beans (purchased at Starbucks, of course!)

1 cup heath bar chips

Beat butter and shortening at medium speed with an electric mixer until creamy; gradually add sugars, beating well.  Add eggs and vanilla; beat well.

Combine flour and next 3 ingredients; add to butter mixture, beating well.

Stir in chopped almonds, chocolate-covered coffee beans and heath bar chips.  Cover and chill dough, if desired.

Drop dough by heaping teaspoonfuls onto ungreased baking sheets.

Bake at 350 degrees for 10-11 minutes or until golden.  Cool 1 minute on baking sheets; remove to wire racks to cool completely.

Yield:  4 dozen

These cookies have always been my favorites!!  An indulgence for me.  The kids got the white chocolate chip cookies; I ate all of the coffee bean cookies!

Much has been brewing during these past two days . . . . all of which I will share in the next coming week!  In the meantime, I can't wait to read about The Queen! And I STILL have my Alice Starmore "Reef" sweater that was properly steeked with the aid of Kim and her bottle of wine, but never finished.  It was to be for the teenager when he was 2 . . . and then the Diva . . . and then Pipsqueak  . . . . . .

Enjoy your weekend!

Love,

Wendy

Slowing down, moving fast and trying to feel groovy. And some knitting, too.

Dear Mom,
Lately I have been feeling in a perpetual hurry. Mostly it is all self-inflicted and at some point this week I realized I need to slow myself down. Time to dig out some Simon & Garfunkel and remember to slow down, make the morning last. You know....Feel Groovy. Well, try to anyway.

The What I Need to Do's are colliding with the What I Want to Do's and I've become a spinning top. So much to do, where to start? I don't know why I get frantic about it, everything gets done in its time. It just doesn't always get done in the time frame that I plan on. For instance, yesterday I intended to burn off some energy getting the house clean. All was well until I found an empty retainer case (again). Apparently Patsy is concerned with her oral health, because this is the second time I've had to search for that retainer and I've lost track of how many toothbrushes we've replaced. The first retainer search ended with the retainer intact. Not so lucky this time. I scold the dog. I call the orthodontist to schedule an appointment for new retainer. While I am on the phone I decide to call Brother and ask him to till up a new garden spot. Yes, he can, right now. Outside to stake off desired location. Brother tills. Time for lunch. Brother calls to tell me something. (Can't remember what.) I ask him about making pasta. We talk about making pasta. We talk about pasta machines. We decide to make pasta, soon. I look on the internet at pasta machines. The afternoon is slipping away. On my list of Want to Do's is the Green Sweater. It has reached a point in its construction that requires me to cut the steeks and I need daylight to do this. If I don't get it done now, before the after school routine begins, it will be another day, or two, before I can do it. I stop everything and git r done. I can clean tomorrow or on Saturday when it rains.

I think the steeking process is something you might find interesting. The Green Sweater is going to be a cardigan when it grows up, but it is knitted entirely in the round in one piece, not flat or in pieces. I am basically knitting a wonky tube. To turn the tube into a cardigan with sleeves enlists the use of steeks. Steeks are basically extra stitches placed in strategic locations to be used as selvages. All the sweater shaping is done outside of these selvages. Constructing a sweater this way is faster- I can knit around in circles a lot faster than I can knit a row, turn the sweater to the wrong side, and purl back. I think most knitters can work a knit stitch faster than a purl stitch. I can, anyway. Another good thing about working in rounds is that the right side is always facing while you knit, especially helpful when working a color or stitch pattern. The Green Sweater is just plain old stockinette stitch with very little shaping and no color or pattern to keep track of. On something like this I can really get in the zone and knit at a pretty good clip.

So, back to yesterday. I had reached the point where nothing more can happen to the Green Sweater until I secure and cut the steeks. It looked like this:

a wonky tube

There are four steeks on this sweater. One at the center front, another at the neck opening, and two for the arms. 

At this point, I mark the center of the steeks with a basting yarn in a contrasting color. You can see that here:

Now for the scary part.

Assemble the necessary tools:

1. 
   
   Good light. Daylight preferred.
2. 
   
   Cheaters.
3. 
   
   Puppies sniffing at your feet are not helpful. Try to distract them, or do this when they are sleeping.
4. 
   
   Sewing machine
5. 
   
   Scissors
6. 
   
   Wine. For after you are done. I think Elizabeth Zimmermann suggests lying down in a dark room. A glass of wine is more fun.

Time to secure the steeks. There is more than one way to do this, and this time I am using the sewing machine method. This is how I did my very first steek, back in 1992, at Meg Swansen's Knitting Camp. I was smart enough, back then, to realize that I had better learn it in the presence of an expert and with supportive knitters beside me.

It seems wrong to use a sewing machine on a hand knit, but I like to use this method because there is less bulk in the selvage edge that is created. Plus, my sewing machine, Judy Jetson, likes it when she feels needed.

The tiniest possible stitch is sewed right next to the basting thread.

First on one side, then the other. Again, I use a contrasting thread so that it is easy to see. Plus, this edge will be hidden and the thread won't show when the sweater is finished.

The really scary part.

Cut the steeks. Yes. Cut that perfectly good knitting. That wonky tube is good for nothing until you cut it. Except here is the disadvantage to steeks. There is no going back once the steeks are cut. Honestly, there is no going back once you've run it through the sewing machine, because I cannot for the life of me imagine ripping out those tiny stitches and having the yarn survive. But the cutting is final.

Truthfully, this is only Very Scary the first time. Once the dizzy spell passed, I found the whole process to be liberating. I steek freely now.

So, here is Elle, modeling the sweater with the steeks cut open. The sweater has not been joined at the shoulders yet, but you get the idea.

Looks more like a cardigan now, doesn't it!

I went ahead and blocked the sweater at this point. I need to turn the steeks under and sew down some facings, and it seemed prudent for me to block first to flatten those curling edges and make the sewing down process easier. I'll join the shoulders and sew the facings and then I can start the sleeves.

So last night, I was faced with only socks to knit. Rather than do the smart thing, which would be to knit the socks or go to an unfinished project, I decided to start something new.  I cast on for this.

Love,

Kim

Temporary Insanity

Dear Mom,
It's that time of year when I go a little bit crazy. 

These.seeds.are.everywhere.

They are in the grass.

The driveway.

The patio.

The roof  (and soon they will be in the gutters).

Hello...they are in the chicken coop. 

And the chickens won't eat them!!

I am sitting on them.

And soon I will be pulling baby maple trees out of the garden.

These seeds are floating in the pond and glued to the rocks. 

I spied a chicken feather among the seeds clinging to the rocks...and it wasn't until I posted the picture that I realized a frog was sitting there too! 

I know this is a temporary condition.  We enjoy the shade the maple trees provide throughout the summer. 

But WHY do they have to drop SO MANY seeds?!?!

Love, Bonnie Jo

Queen Alessandra

Dear Mom,

I spent my Saturday morning at Wildflower Ridge Honey Farm.  This enchanted farm is owned by the Barrickman family in Anderson.  I felt like I was in Heaven on Earth! 

I parked in a field with the animals!  There were sheep, a llama, and a Great Pyrenees dog to watch over them. 

The farm had its own character!  Look at this barn!

Here is the outhouse and the flower "beds".

There was a candle burning inside the outhouse!  (I actually thought of Kim while I was inside the outhouse taking pictures...I imagined that she would have been taking pictures too!)

Nearly 100 people came from near and far to pick up their bees!  The American Honey Queen, Lisa Schluttenhofer, spoke to the group.  Lisa is from Indiana and attends Purdue University.  The group was told that the bees have contracted nosema, a digestive disease.  There are chemicals available for treatment, but I will try to combat this disease by making certain the bees have plenty of syrup and pollen supplements to eat.

Finally, the group dispersed for some interaction with the bee hives.  I was sooooo excited! I finally got to put on my veil!   Mr. Barrickman took a hive apart and showed us a healthy colony of bees.

A hundred boxes of bees were waiting in a horse trailer to be taken home. Our names were called in sequence according to the date our orders were received. 

The rest of the day is a blur.  A total blur.  I was a nervous wreck.  I have been attending seminars, reading books, and talking to complete strangers about beekeeping for over a year, and yet I was scared  and on my own.  I drove the bees home in the trunk of the car.  I took the bees to the back and loaded them into the hive.  I can't even remember how I did it.  I think I made some mistakes.  Was the queen there?  I was afraid it would rain any second.  And my smoker went out. But....I did it!  I didn't get stung.  I did it! 

I wish I could do it again and remember what I did, so I wouldn't make any mistakes. I think I might have switched some frames around and I wish I would have looked for the queen. It started to sprinkle. But I sat and watched with fascination. The bees were flying in, out and around the hive.   I made some sugar syrup and inserted the feeder into the front. 

 

 

I met some nice people, like Tom and Melissa.  Melissa might stop by this week to help me find Queen Alessandra.  "Alessandra" is an Italian name which means "the defender or helper of mankind".  I look forward to Melissa's visit.  I feel she will be a valuable new friend. 

 

I have so much to learn. I wonder if the bees will recover from nosema.  I hope Queen Alessandra is strong and hearty. One thing I know for sure:  I am falling in love with beekeeping.

Love, Bonnie Jo