Spring and other things.

Today, dear neighbors and friends of ours lost their entire house to a fire. My intention with this post was to write about Spring and its blessed arrival, but my mind and heart are filled with sadness and grief for this couple and their loss. Today was a beautiful, warm day, humid and full of the smells and sounds of the earth waking up. All day I was so grateful for the changing of the seasons, and, maybe just a little, wishing for more (after today the temps plummet again to the 30's!). 

And tonight, I am not wishing for more. I am just thankful for what I have. Thankful that we have our home to surround us, in all of its 70's-era avocado green glory. A place to contain our memories and keep us safe. I am so very grateful that we were able to offer food, shelter, love and whatever else, to these two dear people.

And so, dear and lovely spring, I give thanks to you for what you are. I will not wish for more, or different, I will just be. 

Of indigo and lessons learned.

I am so deeply in love with this fiber. Really. Perhaps I am biased because the majority of it is from my own goats, but seriously, I've been carrying these skeins around every day, everywhere I go, because I love to just be with them.  

These blends are everything I thought they would be, and more. But when all the skeins arrived smelling like cigarette smoke, I was heartbroken, to say the least. Luckily, the mill took the fiber right back to rewash it, and sent some sample skeins back for inspection before continuing on with the rest.

As we all like to believe, every negative experience we have is a chance to learn (someone said that, right?) And with this one, I actually came away with a bulleted list.

1. Ask your mill if anyone smokes, and if so, let them know you want the fiber stored well away from the source at all times. This seems kind of obvious, but I learned the hard way.

2. Ask if the mill has insurance. (This was brought up by a friend of mine, and makes a great deal of sense if you are dealing with larger batches of fiber!)

3. Visit the mill. I wish I had done this.

4. Ask for an itemized receipt. This did't seem necessary at the time, but I wish now I had a more detailed description of each item I was charged for. In this case, I feel certain that I was charged fairly, but when the fiber came back smelling as it did, my first thought was to sit down and make sure everything added up. 

And now, on to the fun stuff.

I did two batches (two different yarns), with an iron mordant. This resulted in two very different shades of indigo blue. Both with incredible depth and luster. This photo is from the first batch, which has a bit more green in it than the second. It's more muted, and when side-by-side with the second batch these colors are everything mysterious and dark and magical. Mostly, I am reminded of the deeper, darker parts of the ocean, where it is quiet and still. Whales calling, seaweed drifting, twilight.

So very, very lovely.

It's here!

Well, some of it, anyhow. The journey this fiber has taken is a post for another day. These are the two skeins I have in my hands right now, and the rest is on the way. But, I feel these two deserve some blog space. They are two different blends, and I am absolutely in love with them. I feel a bit maternal about the whole batch, which I suppose is normal, given that much of the fiber comes from our goats, and the majority of that being the babies.

So, without getting into the details of their travels too much today, here they are.

The skein on the left is our sweet Odin's fiber blended with Finn sheep's wool. Finn is oh-so-soft, and the 50/50 blend has an incredible luster to it. It is like a silky cloud on the needles. The Skein on the right is a 50/25/25 blend, with the greater portion being our adult mohair, blended with shetland and alpaca. I am partial to this one because of the color and softness. It has a little more loft than the other, and should take a natural dye beautifully!

And what skein of yarn isn't improved by a fresh flower? Thanks to my young apprentice for the reminder...what would I do without those helpers?

March.

I tried to find a quote, or a poem, to best describe how I feel about this fickle month. But nothing I found would do. Is that perhaps because there isn't really any way to describe it? Dull to look at, the ground still bare, brown and mostly frozen, there is nonetheless a quivering, electric undercurrent to the air and earth. There is no way to describe how this time affects the senses, other than it just does. 

The sap is flowing, the seeds orders are arriving, the onions have been started, the days are a bit longer and the sun a bit warmer. The garage has been cleaned out to make room for new babies, the remaining squash and potatoes are being sorted through and used up, the makeshift greenhouse has been patched and reenforced, and winter clothes are being packed away.

So much preparation going on, that I feel giddy with anticipation. I am certainly not wishing time away, but oh, am I ever glad that Spring is here.

The beginning.

And so we begin another year. I never really consider January first the beginning of a new year, but rather the start of Maple Syrup season. Somehow it seems more appropriate, as the world is just waking up and showing signs of Spring. And truth be told, this winter was so very mild here in the Northeast, that I am still waiting, just a little, for a few big snowstorms. I am by no means complaining...in fact, even though I love me a good old fashioned white Christmas, this was the first year I was (secretly) thanking the weather gods, mother nature, and all her employees for such a gentle season.

So, I find myself thinking, "Do we really need this? Do we need more Syrup?" (especially since we still have some left on the shelves from last year!) But then, as it happens every year, the children help us load the buckets, drill the holes, and wait impatiently for those first few cold drops on their tongue. And I realize, yes. Yes, we do need this. We need this to feel connected to the farm and to one another. We need this because it is teaching us lessons about patience and gratitude and the sheer wonder of nature's gifts.

And we need this to get us through March. 

And so, here we are again.

eight.

Somehow, this happened. Somehow, eight years have gone by since this person chose us for his parents and came into our lives. Somehow, he has has gone from being a beautiful, tow-headed, sensitive, loving, kind, gentle and special little boy to this. This young person. So, actually, not much has changed except perhaps a few inches... 

How incredibly blessed we are to have him in our lives.

Wintering.

What's that? This old thing? Oh why thank you, yes, actually, that is a new logo up there. A sweet little bit of artwork from the lovely Sarah Burwash.  I feel so honored to have her touch grace the pages of this blog. If you have a moment, do go and check out her website.

 Oh, and very exciting news (for me, anyhow)...our first batch of fiber is being processed into yarn!   Andy, from Aroostook Fiber Works, actually drove down here all the way from Presque Isle just to pick up the order. It doesn't get any better than that! So, needless to say, I am looking forward to seeing what beauty comes of all that wonderful fiber. I think a road trip to Northern Maine is in order for the pickup, although Andy did offer to drive it down. 

And what else is going on around here? Lots of planning. Seed ordering. Snowshoeing. Skiing. Sledding. Knitting. How very grateful I am to live where we do...I wouldn't have it any other way.

A Baby Sweater.

Before we get any further: no, I am not having a baby. But, that does not stop me from loving hand knits for little ones. My own "little ones" are not so little anymore (meaning it takes more than one skein..or two...or three...to make a garment for them now) and a bit more, shall we say, specific about what they will and will not wear. 

Also...I love neutrals on babies. Besides no clothes at all, I really believe there is nothing more beautiful than natural colors next to their sweet, soft complexions.

I did not finish this sweater in that late night of knitting, nor the next day during the baby shower though I furiously worked to complete it. But, we musn't rush these things, I say. And so, I give the gift of warmth as a loving welcome to this new little life!

a winter's day.

Today we hunkered down. We recovered from a very long week of traveling, events, playtime with friends, and general busyness. I am chomping at the bit to do some sewing, but first, first...there is always something more pressing! Right now it is a knitting project I began only a few days ago (yikes!) for a baby shower tomorrow, telling myself I work better under pressure. Hmmm. I had planned to sit down and spend today on it, but alas, there was this beautiful snow outside just begging to be played in...how could I say no? (Not to mention a house in desperate need of attention, a sink and counter full of dishes, etc.) And now, I predict a late night of knitting in my future...

Fiber Love.

Three of our goats have been with us for just under a year, and the other four, affectionately referred to around here as "the babies", only since July. The adults' first shearing after coming to live with us did not actually yield any useable fiber, as they were severely matted. So, this past fall, along with the first shearing of the littler ones, gave us approximately ten pounds of mohair.

It has taken a while to decide what exactly what to do with the fiber. Do I blend it? What do I blend it with? What percentage of which fiber? Have it made into yarn? Or just washed so I can spin it by hand? In the process of this decision-making, I feel as if I have really gotten to better know the goats as individual beings.  

Loki is our adult male goat. He is very pushy, but sweet, and his fiber is the softest of the three adults. It has several colors in it, which, I believe, will give an incredible depth to whatever natural dye color we choose to use, if any at all. The tips are a bit frosted, which gives the whole effect that of a recent visit to a salon.

Dharma, Loki's sister, has courser fiber, but with a lovely little curl to it. Dharma is sweet and gentle, and I think her locks would benefit from blending with another fiber.

Then the Babies. Oh the babies. Their fiber has the most lovely, soft, baby-fine texture I could ever dream of. Three of the four are siblings, and they all have a similar color and texture, though each is individually slightly different. Two of the three siblings, Clementine and Ezra, are quite precocious and curious, and not even a little bit shy. But their brother, Opi, will only come near us for a treat, and is the loudest and most dramatic when we have to trim hooves or shear.

Our last baby, Odin, is very special. He's a bit aloof, and does not like to be touched. He's always been very quiet, and was larger at the start. Though the same size as all the others now, I think his system seems to be the most sensitive to external stressors, such as weather, illness, bullying, etc. But his fiber. Oh, his fiber. By far the most luxurious of all our angoras, it is silky and soft as a cloud, and the only all-white. My mother and I have a theory that his body is working so hard to produce lustrous locks, that he needs a bit of consistent extra attention to make sure he is getting what he needs to keep him healthy. Odin's fiber is going to be kept separate, it is that special.

We have finally decided that the yarn will be a luxurious blend of Finnish Landrace sheep from Maine and our own Mohair, processed at a mill also right here in Maine. I am so very excited for this first batch, and as always, grateful to our animals for giving us these gifts.

The New Year.

I am not a big fan of new years resolutions. Or, rather, the word "resolutions". However, I have many things that I would like to learn, do more of, or improve upon, and this time of year seems appropriate to lay all those thing out in the open.  

This past year, in hindsight, was very full. In addition to the general business of homeschooling and getting this tiny farm up and running, we managed to build a barn, acquire seven angora goats and a large flock of ducks, purchase 24 guinea hens for tick control (and gradually lose half of them to predators), put in permanent fencing, maintain a very large vegetable garden, installed a wood stove, and bought the house from my parents. 

In between are all the little things. The events, processes and ideas that go along with or into the planning and execution of the finished products are perhaps the more important parts of the whole. I learned so very much in our first year here, too much to list in one post. And in the midst of all these projects, we have learned about our space, our home, the land and our own boundaries. We are gradually coming to love this 1960's split level ranch of ours, with all its quirks and problems. It has welcomed us with no complaints, though we have had many, about finding small ways to make it ours. 

The sheer bounty that this land has provided us, is in itself enough to be thankful for. More vegetables and fruit than I could find time to can or fit in our deep chest freezer, and surprise discoveries than I can count.  

Now, as we enter a new year, this is typically a slower time for our family. A time for resting, crafting and planning. The seed catalogues are sitting before me, and it is fun to dream. Truthfully, I'm not sure I could handle any more on my plate than I had last year, but perhaps I will have learned enough to aid the efficiency of what I need to do, and to accommodate a few new things already in the works (more on that in a future post!). For now, it is time to rest, dream, plan, create. And knit. Yes, lots of that.

Happy New Year, friends!