This sweater is fresh off the needles, knitted up in our 40% Mohair 60% Finnsheep worsted weight yarn, hand dyed with cochineal and madder root. It's knit with a loose gauge, making it swingy and sweet. Come and see it, and other samples, this weekend at the Common Ground Fair!
I have a complete and total infatuation with all things Scotland. And no, not because of the Outlander series (although that did reaffirm some of my reasons for loving that great, beautiful, magical country of kilt-wearers).
My family has strong ties there with our Scottish heritage being very directly linked to both Clan MacKenzie and Clan Hamilton. It is the only place I have every traveled to where I feel like I am home. Like I belong, and not only that, like I have belonged for hundreds of years. Like these are my people, and this place resonates so deeply within my soul that I would drop everything and move there in a heartbeat.
Scotland calls to me when I am not there, and when I am there, I cry. I weep because it is the place I feel as if I spent my entire childhood searching for. It truly feels as if every trail leads to a magical portal, every stream to a fairyland, and any moment a unicorn could come stepping through the fog.
I realize that those of you who already read this blog are probably Taproot readers as well, so maybe this isn't much of an update or surprise. But, the most recent issue contains an article that I wrote and photographed, and I'm going to mention it here because it was probably the best time I have ever had working on a piece. Beautiful light, wonderful people, and amazing subjects.
So, if you don't already receive the magazine in the mail, order it! If not for this article, then for the many other lovely articles and contributions from folks like me.
Also, if you are interested in learning more about me, my farm or the article itself, head over to the Taproot Journal page for a little interview about it all!
I think I write about this every year, but as any farmer or gardener will tell you, its kind of a monumental thing. Somewhere near the end of July, there comes a distinct tipping of the scales that has nothing to do with temperature, the name of the month, or even the proximity of the start of the school year for some. It is the very slightest and faintest whisperings of autumn. It's just a whisper, a murmur, at first. Eventually one cannot ignore the signs of fall, but this is different...it's not just feeling it, it's knowing it in your bones. It stops me in my tracks; the way the wind touches my face, the way the light comes through the woods at the end of the day. I envision, quite literally, a scale, and it has begun to lean a little heavier to one side.
It can bring me to my knees, the sudden instinct to hold dear all of the memories of warmth and sun. This season is so fleeting in the North East, and there is something quite magical about the light in August. That hazy, warm evening glow is something I miss all too dearly come February, when you know you still have a solid two months of winter remaining.
I just returned from Connecticut with a huge and lovely batch of freshly processed yarn! Although I am excited about doing a lot of natural dyeing in the upcoming two months, I often find myself just sitting and staring at the natural colors piled in the living room.
All of this beautiful fiber will be making its way to the Common Ground Fair this September, where I am thrilled to have a tent! The Fair is a special place, and holds a very large and important space in my heart and childhood memories. It feels so special to take part in this MOFGA organized event, and I am truly honored to have a presence there. If you are coming, please stop by and say hello!
