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.