Every single scrap of Iowa fleece I have left (except for one chunk that had lots of VM) has been pre-soaked twice. All of it. Excuse me while I go collapse.

I spent I don’t know how long outside in the backyard hauling pots of water, wrestling fleece, spinning out the excess water, and shooing away any curious insects. It wiped me out. I have this feeling that the neighbors think I’m some sort of odd person — constantly lugging pots out there, whirling around spraying water in every direction — yeah. Well, if they want some wool they can have it. I just want to get it all washed by the second of August.

Why the reason for this sudden haste? A certain special friend is coming to visit next month, and she’s bringing a toy with her. Something very beneficial for those who have lots of fiber to process. Any guesses?

A drum carder.

Ta-da! Cymbal crash. Wild applause.

And, on the knitting front, (while it’s not quite as exciting as a drum carder) I threw the potential sock pattern out the window and started spinning the indigo yarn the way I wanted to spin it. If I really want to use that pattern once the yarn is done I’ll go dig around in the roses until I find it, but in the meantime I’m having fun.

All the indigo dyed fiber is carded up and turned into roving. I like to handle home-washed fibers as much as possible before spinning because it helps get any extra dust or vegetable matter (VM) out. Some of this fleece was very dusty. (Small wonder, it had been in my closet for a few months.) I kept having to clean off my “dust catcher.”

This is a nice little plastic bin that I put under my carders for the protection of my carpet. I card, it catches, and I occasionally dump it out into the trash. Handy all around. (You can see it under the fleece, there.)

It worked well except for the very last batch of dust. I had just finished carding and went to dump the dirt into the trash and somehow it caught on the edge of the trashcan and scattered dirt all over my nice clean soysilk. See all the dark speckles around the edges?

You can imagine my frustration.

The indigo fiber is intended for a variegated sock yarn, but the perfect pattern I had planned is rapidly working itself out of my good graces. The closest I can get to gauge with my sample yarn is six and a quarter stitches an inch. Not six. And the pattern has cables. Gulp.
My knitting sister says she’ll do some calculating for me. Supposedly the sock is for smaller feet, so my current six-and-a-quarter might do the job. If I ever get around to knitting them I’m sure they’ll turn out to be soap opera socks. One thing after another until “the saga continues. . .”

I took it along to work, and the best part was a small friend’s conversation with me while babysitting.

Sam: “Why does that have so many needles?”
Me: “That’s just the way they need to be to help me knit this sock.”
Sam: “Whoa, that’s a sock?”
Me: “Yes. Wait just a minute (the row needed to be finished) and I’ll show you.”
*time lapse while row is finished and sock wriggled on*
Sam: “Whoaaaaa, that’s cool. If I’d known you made socks I’d have had a pair by now.”
(I don’t know what he was implying by that statement. Just because I made that red scarf for him earlier.)

Anyway, it’s currently giving a great impression of a hobo’s sock, and if I can just figure out where the pattern went I can finish it up and knit the second one. It’s been long enough since I started the first one that I’m not worried about the second being the same old same old. Definitely a bonus.

I have been slowly but steadily turning my elbows and wrists into aching, tender remnants of themselves while transforming the indigo dyed fleece into these lovely balls of roving. These are going to be spun into a variegated sock yarn and knit by yours truly into a recently discovered sock pattern on Knitting Daily.

Assuming I can get the gauge figured out. It’s supposed to be six stitches an inch on size five needles. And the pattern calls for a heavy worsted yarn. Figure that one out.

I plan to spin it on the Walking Wheel. Hopefully it will be a reprise of the great success of the Gawain batt. That yarn made the nicest pair of socks I’ve ever worn. (I’m sure pride in my work has tainted my view of them, but they are very comfy.)

I cleaned my fiber and yarn stash and reorganized it, thus foiling its attempts to take over my closet and dominate the earth. In the process I came to the conclusion that I have way too much yarn. I need to destash! Now, some of you may have just passed out at the suggestion of having too much yarn, but I only have so much space to store it in. If it’s not going to be used and isn’t extra special, out it goes.

And another thing, I’m getting a little tired of knitting things and crocheting things just for the fun of doing them. I want the fruit of my hands to be useful! At some point I need to stop impulse making and work toward filling needs. Maybe I should look around for charity stuff, but I’d really like it to be more personal than dropping something off at a donation box. I want these projects to be made for specific people and go to them with love. But then, can I find enough needs to support my insatiable crafting appetite? I don’t want to just start flinging scarves at everyone I know.

I love it when I get to post about dyeing. The pictures are always so colorful!

As I hinted earlier, I did some regular acid dyes while getting the indigo pot ready. The plan was to handpaint the lace weight single in emerald, purple, gold, and blue. Ha ha.

My first mistake was not premixing the colors. I made a yellow, a blue, and a red, thinking I would just paint over the top of each one to create the nice green and purple tones. Believe me, that didn’t work so well.

Especially since I diluted the colors so much it took three or four dabs to make a decent intensity of tone. In short, after messing about with it for awhile, I mixed up the colors I wanted and poured them over yarn in my usual method. Here is the result.

And if anyone can explain to me how pink mixed with lots of sapphire can turn into burgundy, I’d be most obliged. It’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. It went into the pot purple and came out this red. I’m still not even sure if I like the finished color mix. It definitely has character. In fact, it reminds me of some sort of exotic bird. The greens and the red. Well, now I just have to decide if I’m going to use this for a headband after all.

I had some of the mixed dyes left over after doing that tiny skein so I grabbed a pre-soaking yarn and poured them over it. And wound up with this.
Green green green. This was one occasion in which the dyes were messing with me. Maybe they were jealous of my growing infatuation with the indigo vat.
This is the third of the Iowa fleece triplets. So much for dyeing them all the same color! One light blue, one dark blue, and one vivid greens. Ah well. Variety (and silk) are supposedly the spice of life.

(That bonus picture at the top is a close up of this skein.)

This is the skein of heavy worsted I spun on the drop spindle. I have no idea what I’m going to do with it, which is unfortunate because I love the color. I dunked it in the dye only once, so it’s relatively light in color and actually has a little variegation going on.

So far the indigo doesn’t appear to be crocking. Hooray hooray. Dye leaks are something that occurred with dismal regularity during the cochineal dyeing. Which reminds me, yet another reason to like indigo dyeing is that it doesn’t smell bad like cochineal. It does have a strongish smell, but nothing like dead beetles with vinegar in them. (How’s that for ruining your yarn appetite? )

Here is another skein that I dunked three or four times. I think three. It’s one of the three Iowa fleece skeins I spun on the Walking Wheel.

And here is its sibling. This one went in only twice. The third skein of this kind was occupied with some other stuff I’ll show you anon. Let me just say that I knew I would have a longish wait for the indigo to simmer, so I planned on pulling out some Jacquard dyes.

Once I dyed those three skeins, I was still itching to use up any particles of blue that might be floating around in the dye water, so I pulled out my big basket of washed fleece and stuffed some into a presoak. Then I had a brainwave. I had cochineal dyed fleece lurking in the bottom of the basket. Red plus blue equals . . . get that stuff in the dye bath now!

I wound up with these lovely colors. The dark purple and light purple, and two shades of plain blue. (Of course, when you’re dealing with indigo, “just plain blue” can still knock your socks off.)

The only trouble I had with the whole affair was when I put the darker red into the dye bath. I hadn’t done a very good job of rinsing it out after the initial dye all those months ago. The indigo water went orangey. But it didn’t seem to affect the actual indigo at all! Amazing.

I can hardly wait to do this dye again. It was so easy, and now that I know I can get shades from denim to the palest blue, I think I’ll have to make a skirt and dip dye it in a light-to-dark pattern.

Allow me to introduce to you, indigo.

What you see before you is real. And very, very blue.

The recipe I was given at the Handspinner’s Guild worked wonderfully after a minor delay. Something wasn’t happening as fast as I thought it would, so I did a little research and found out that you’re supposed to leave the lid on to speed things up in the preheat. I’ll have to do some digging to find out if I can legally share that recipe with you. It’s great.

Here’s the indigo simmering. I had to wait for a special “bloom” to form on the top of the pot before dunking any yarn.

And believe me, it was hard to see what the navy liquid was doing in a navy colored pot. Thankfully the dye changed colors enough to keep things straight.

Anyway, once I thought it was ready I dunked a spoon in and swiped it across a paper towel. Bingo. A gorgeous denim blue.

I wanted lighter blue so I knew I would have to keep things short and to the point to avoid really dark tones.

The weirdest thing was lowering the yarn into the liquid. The yarn literally looked greeny yellow.
I let it sit in there for a minute, then carefully pulled it out. It turned blue almost instantly. So cool to watch!

It seems whenever I do natural dyeing I wind up doing three times more fiber than I’d originally planned on. And, true to form, I spent the whole afternoon digging up more dyeables. And this time I had even planned on a few extra! I had pre-soaked three extra skeins! But that wasn’t enough. I tell you, yarn hides when I’m on the prowl for dyeable items. I wound up using fleece chunks and they turned out beautifully. I’ll give you the rundown on the finished items tomorrow.

You may notice that the yarn in the pot is actually swaddled in a pinkish net thing. This is the famous piece of nylon tulle that appeared when I did my first natural dyeing ever. It’s now pinkish red from the cochineal, with a wide blue end from the indigo. If this keeps up I’ll either have to retire it or deal with a black net.

Yes, I’m planning to finish it. And its mate. This one will have some queer little lumps and bumps in it. Things like “repeat rows A and B until x amount remains on the needles” should not be listed after “continue.” What do they think I am? A knitting guru? Ahem. Well, anyway, it seems to be turning out despite the difficulties. I can get it on. And off.

I’m enjoying knitting something that small. I like tiny things. Tiny stitches, tiny needles, tiny yarn. I even have a pattern picked out for the next pair! It’ll be a very special pair due to the fiber choice. (More on that later.)

Here’s something I did with the Iowa fleece during a movie. I had a drop spindling urge and some roving handy, so why not?

Two and half hours on the drop spindle made this little skein of a lace weight single. It does have slubs in it. We’ll pretend they’re in there for interest. I want to dye it in some rich jewel tones and knit it into a hair scarf/bandanna thingummy. I think emerald green and royal purple, with hints of gold, copper, and light blue would be nice.

And here’s the dark Lincoln batts all spun into singles. It came up to one spindle full on the Walking Wheel, and I can’t remember if that was one ounce or two. Anyway, it’s a nice amount. Just very very fuzzy. I think I’ll have to scratch the cowl idea. At least with this yarn. It’s gorgeous stuff. I love the color.

I actually got a pretty fair amount of this carded, but the carded got used in another project before I took any pictures of it and is now hanging out to dry. I did decide to break out of my usual “rolag” carding method and turn the carded fluff into these nice little balls of homemade roving. Not quite as smooth and buttery as store bought, but it’s fun to use and spins nicely.

The pink and purple are from cochineal dyed fleece. Yes, I still have that fleece laying around. Two nice chunks of it.

Anyone remember the New Zealand wool I aspired to spin on the drop spindle? The one I was going to spin for an entire sweater’s worth? Well, that kind of fell flat. So I took the singles and plyed them together.
The only kicker was I hadn’t been all that careful with twist amounts, so I wound up with my first ever five ply yarn trying to make it come out even and non-splitty. It’s a heavy worsted and there are three and three quarter ounces of it. I haven’t measured the yardage yet. I think it’s in the fifty to sixty yard range. It’s very soft and strong. I have some special plans for this skein. Something to do with a blue test run.

I finished spinning these lovely skeins. They’re from the Iowa fleece (the same fleece I’m working on washing) and have a great feel to them. I spun them on the Walking Wheel.

The only problem is that I didn’t pay very close attention to the size of the singles as I spun. A little “weight shift” occurred between the skeins. Keen-eyed yarn lovers may notice I have one skein that is thin for the most part, and two that are mainly thick. (I say mostly and mainly because they were “fun” yarns. The kind I don’t grapple with tooth and nail to get the lumps and inconsistencies out.) I’m itching to get these into a dye pot of some kind, but I don’t know what for. Lately all my yarns have been spun and dyed with certain projects in mind. This lends itself well to the careful and responsible use of all and sundry fluff.

But I really just want to slap those babies into the kettle and have fun with them.

Maybe I should measure the yardage and go from there. Two together might be enough for a hat. Or maybe all the three could be made into a unique felted bag. Although one can only use so many felted bags. Oh, wait! I might have a use for one.

Ahem. Anyway. While I was finishing these skeins an idea occurred to me. An idea that involved the Lincoln batts. And a cowl with a twist. And making my own knitting pattern.

Oops. Did I say that out loud? I know I’m just a baby knitter, but I really don’t think I’ll find this particular style anywhere. Not that I’ve looked, of course. The idea of making my own pattern is just too cool to let someone else’s brilliance spoil it.

The only trouble is that I began spinning the batts and I think they’re turning out to be a different kind of yarn than a “next to the skin” yarn. See how fuzzy and hairy they are? The color is gorgeous and the yarn is shiny—it just doesn’t seem to quite fit a cowl. But, hey, that means I get two projects for the idea of one. I have great yarn to use for something, and a great pattern idea to use for something. Double prize!

I hope The Beginner Series proved helpful and encouraging. Remember, those posts are nothing but a brief overview. They leave plenty of room for you to learn new things and discover on your own. There’s a whole world of spinners and spinning out there. Techniques waiting to be taught, friendships to be shared, and new fibers to try. It’s waiting for you.

With the blessing of a seriously addicted spinner, go, spin, and learn.

~Rebekah