Knitting Iris

Black walnut dyed self stripings

 

Knit for the boys with a skein of sock yarn (shy of 100 grams by maybe 20 grams or so), dyed self-striping with black walnut hulls.  The heel and toe colors were picked out by each, R requesting that extra little stripe of blue at the top of his pair.  If you look closely you'll notice a couple of different reds and a couple of different blues to try and use up some leftover stashed sock yarns. 
They were finally finished today, the warmest day of spring yet, topping out in the mid 70's in town, not quite so warm at our place, however.   I tried to knit these up a little on the big size so they'll fit next winter.  We'll see about that.
Several people have asked over the years how big to size socks for kids.  I'm never quite sure how to answer that, especially since kids grow so fast and are each sized so differently at any given age.  The boys are now 6 and 9 years of age and these were both knit over 48 stitches on Addi turbo 2's which I believe are more like something between a US size 1 and 2 (or maybe they're Addi 1's?   I can't remember right this moment how their sizing works, but I know they're smaller than a US 2 and bigger than a US1). 
Anyways, they're knit up on only 8 stitches fewer around than those I knit for myself, over 56 sts, and they're a little tight for the boys to get on their feet.   Once they're on, though, they're fine.  I'm thinking the next pairs I make for them I'll try 52 stitches.  None of us have inordinately wide or thin feet, so I'm finding it surprising how little difference there is in the number of stitches between their socks and mine.
Squeaked in another Bench Monday shot there, last minute.  Not, however,  the one I intended to try and get.  I never realized just how many benches there are in our lives.  This could go on for quite some time.

Shop Update. Finally. Phew.

The fall update is in the shop! 

All of it, both sport weight and fingering weight here: 

 

Just the sport weight, 100% wool ones here:

 

Just the fingering weight, 75% wool/25% nylon ones here:

 

Here is where I did almost all my yarn dyeing this past summer, out in the woodshed on the propane camping stove.   With the proceeds from the sales of my first shop update, I picked up a second, bigger, cast-iron pot at 40% discount from a local store.  It seems there's no use looking for a used one as they go for about the same price as a new one, sometimes even more as antiques, and then they often need to be de-seasoned with a wire brush for use as a dyepot.

 

A couple of the boys' old beach buckets have been put to use for straining dyebaths, and I discovered mesh paint strainers!   (Yes, I do get excited about this kind of thing.)  After "borrowing" a 1 gallon one  from C's  shop,  I  found that they come in a 5 gallon bucket size that fits nicely over a dyepot.  They can be found hardware stores and they're basically just a big jelly strainer.   They are an absolute must for this walnut hull dyebath.  This is some pretty messy, sludgy, nasty, stinky stuff, but I was absolutely thrilled and kind of freaked at the deep, dark brown results achieved on some of the skeins (Ack!) but, wasn't so excited when it permanently stained a pair of socks and shoes that I splattered it onto.

 

Yellows (and, less so, greens and browns) are some of the most available colors from plants.  Still, it's  funny how this summer I feel like I ended up with an even more narrow than usual, yet rich, range of colors.

There were also several plants that just didn't grow or blossom much this year for some reason, such as the daisies and bee balm that usually grow rampantly in the fields around our house.  I did get one ox-eye daisy dyebath, but no bee-balm as I'd hoped.  So many others I missed out on this year as well but, just like gardening, there's always next year. 

Thanks to gas prices, the busyness of summer,  and just plain curiosity, there was some experimenting with several different yarrows, both growing in the garden and growing wild nearby, and they yielded similar shades, with only subtle variation, for the most part:

  

And then these two completely different plants, tansy ragweed and common yarrow (bottom of picture below), were gathered in the same location on a camping trip, dyed almost simultaneously in separate dyepots, and they produced very similar colors:

  

Well, I'm whooped from all this time online listing, so....time to breathe for a few minutes... then start winding new skeins.  This whole etsy business wears me right out. 

There isn't much available outside in terms of dyestuffs right now, but I've got a few ideas for alternatives to play around with for this next batch, and am planning on dyeing some different shades.

Again, if you'd like a refresher on some of my natural dyeing adventures, most of them are here.  On Flickr here.  And, so as not to repeat myself, more info is on my shop policy page  and in this post.

And, again, if anyone has a source for yarn bases for dyeing that they're willing to share, I'm always looking!

Strømper fra Flesberg. Sort of. Just please don't tell the "Bunad police".

 

 

 

So, I was planning on delving into the pictures from Norway today but changed my mind seeing as I was just finishing the toe on these and weaving in the ends after midnight last night, barely into the first hour or so of October 1st when it occured to me that it's THAT time of year again: Socktoberfest!  Please feel free to join in as much or as little as you'd like.  It's a nice, low-key knitalong that always inspires me to work my way through a few skeins of the sock yarn stash.  Flickr group here.  Ravellers here.

The stocks:  "Strømper fra Flesberg" (modified) from Bunad Strømper og Luer, the booklet published by Rauma Ullvarefabrikk I was on the search for back in May and ended up buying a copy of from Nordic Fiber Arts that they just happened to have on hand, but not for sale on their website as it hasn't been translated from Norwegian.  Of course, then I saw this booklet for sale at several places throughout Norway.

I don't know how the bunad police would feel about my modifications, the first of which is the fact that these are a men's stocking pattern, second, I didn't use the called for yarn, third, they aren't the proper color (off-white), and last, I substituted my usual short row heel and likely not the exact toe decreases called for.  These were knit from just under 150 grams of fingering weight wool/nylon dyed with Goldenrod flowers in an iron pot.  To compensate for the men's sizing, they were knit on size 0 double pointed needles.  They have a few flaws but I'm not telling where and I dare you to find them. 

So, there I was in Norway last month when I came to a part of the pattern I just couldn't understand.   I know, it's pretty silly, seeing as I was surrounded by my mom, aunts, and cousins who could have helped me with the pattern (and with no immediate access to online knitting translations and instructions), but it was late at night after everyone else was asleep, so rather than waiting until morning to get help, I just winged the decreases and skipped the star motif that is supposed to be at the ankle.

Looking at the pictures now I'm seeing a splotch of darker color in the ribbing at the top of one of the stockings and realize that it wasn't in the dyeing but is from when I spilled coffee on it on the way home from Wyoming last weekend.  Hoping that'll come out in the wash.

Seeing these makes me think it just might be worth a drive up the road tomorrow to see if there are any straggler Goldenrod flowers still blooming for another batch in the dyepot. 

Oh, and I also did knit up yet another Rosebud Cardigan (Number 18?!)during our trip to Norway for my cousin's 3 month old son there, using the same yarn as these socks, only dyed a similar, slightly lighter green color with golden yarrow from our garden.  Only, I forgot to take a picture of it!  She joked that I came all that way and then gave a gift "Made in Norway".     : )

Playing Catchup

 

Christine's Baby Booties knit on size 2 dpns.  Outrageously soft alpaca yarn that was given to me by a friend's girlfriend, from her own alpacas.  As she was selling off her ranch and her herd, she just GAVE me a TON of this yarn last summer, all natural colors, some alpaca, some llama.  I'm still playing around with it for gauge and with an eye for dyeing more of it.  It seems to absorb the dye quite differently than wool does, in softer, more muted tones.

 

The middle pair was knit in the natural color and then mordanted and dyed last summer, first with elderberries, I believe  Honestly, I don't remember exactly what I did.  The pair on the left was, I think, dyed in blackberry juice.  The other pair was tossed into a leftover dyebath of who-knows-what, last summer too.  They second and third pairs were, after dyeing in the skein, then knit up last month during camping trips. 

 

Basket weave rib ankle socks for C, from Sensational Knitted Socks, by Charlene Schurch.  These were cast off and finished way back on father's day but never blogged.  This yarn was dyed a couple of summers ago, either with Canada thistle or Purple loosestrife, I'm not sure which.  The color appears much lighter here than it really is.

 

Those are my own feet in them above as I never remember to have him put them on for pictures.

Socks knit up from the latest batch of yarn I've been dyeing, a sport weight.  I forgot to strain the walnut hulls out of the dyebath for this skein and , despite seemingly endless washing and rinsing, the plant residues wouldn't all wash out, so it became experimental yarn used for figuring out gauge and to see just how far a 100 gram skein of this yarn would go.  

Bear with my notekeepings here.  Otherwise they're sure to be lost: 

The skein was split in two with 50 grams knit up on US size 2 dpns and the other 50 grams knit up on US size 3 dpns.  Both were knit toe up over 56 stitches in the same knit k3, p1 ribbing, knit to fit my size 8.5 - 9 (39 - 40) feet.  The size 3 needles produced a gauge of 26 st x 38 rows over 4 inches and  what seems to be  slightly looser fabric than other sport weight yarns knit on this size needle.  The size 2 needles knit up at 27 sts x 40 rows over 4 inches which made for a slightly longer socks and produced what I feel to be a preferable, tighter fabric.

By the way, nearly all of the plant residue dropped out as the yarn was knit up.  And, like I said, these were experimental socks, so both have been ripped out and reskeined and will be washed and readied to be reknit on size 2 needles.  These might make good socks for my brother's birthday.  So now, what pattern?  

Screaming yellow daisy socks

 

The yarn, and thus the socks, that'll never,ever be sold, or even given away.  Dyed with turmeric powder last year, then rinsed and rinsed and rinsed and rinsed, and still the water wouldn't run clear. 

So then I think I must have thought, "What the heck, why not mess around with the skein a little and see what'll happen?", tied it up in string, and dumped it back into the dyepot for another round of simmering.  Then, rinsed, rinsed, rinsed, repeat, and the water still wouldn't come clear.  Dried it and forgot about it because this dye seems too difficult to rinse out.

 

Fast forward to a few weeks ago when, once again, "What the heck, why not knit it up anyways?" Decide on Marie's Daisies Sock Pattern.  Then, one evening I'm knitting away on the second sock and noticed a few blotchy, darker orange splotches on it. 

"Hmmm.  What could have happened?  Is it wet?  No.  Hmmm.  What could have spilled on it?  Something in the kitchen?  No.  Didn't I set the sock down earlier today on the stepstool in the bathroom?  Doesn't everyone bring their in-progress knitting everywhere with them, including the bathroom?  Maybe some of that baking soda mixed in water I've been using as shampoo (successfully, by the way) splashed onto them?  Hmmm."

Looked in dye books to see if there's something already written about this anywhere and, in Wild Color, find this: "An alkaline modifier gives reddish-orange tones." and "...yellow from turmeric is likely to be less fast than most other yellow dyes, even when used with a mordant or in combination with other dyes." 

A ha.  Finished knitting socks anyways.

Time to mess around some more.  Soaked the finished socks in a pot of water with baking soda and watched them change to that deep orange-red seen in the splotches and mentioned in the book.

Laid them out in dappled shade to dry (above left).  Forgot about them.  Drove to town to run errands for a couple of hours.  Came back home to find them in full sunshine.  Whoops.  The sides of the socks facing up into the direct sunlight were dulled, while the side facing away from the sun was a beautiful, bright rusty orange (above right).  

Dipped again into the alkaline water and baking soda solution to try and even out the color. Worked somewhat, but still left the socks with a harlequin effect (above left). 

OK, might as well mess around even more with this.  Dipped into an acidic water and vinegar solution which reverts the socks back closer to the original screaming yellow zonker color, still with a slight harlequin look, one side of the socks duller in color than the other (above right).

 

They're done, though, and no one will notice when they're worn inside shoes, out of focus, or photographed at a distance as a reflection in the window.  So there.

I see a homeschooling science experiment sometime with the leftover yarn or even the socks themselves, if I can just find that litmus paper around here somewhere.  If not, the yarn itself can serve that purpose.  Or you can make your own with red cabbage.

C suspects that if I wear these and my feet sweat enough in them that they'll "henna" my feet.  I'll be sure to let you know about it if it does.

Wacky dye, to be certain.  Entertaining, at least.  Once.  Never again.

Trying to look at all this quick-changing as an asset.  You could change the color of your socks on a whim with a dip in an alkaline or acid solution, or maybe they'd be good for party tricks...spill a little lemonade on them and, presto chango, a new pair of socks! 

Daisies socks.  Can of Bon Ami cleanser. 

As for the pattern, I absolutely loved knitting it and will knit a pair of these again, in a yarn dyed with a less volatile dye, however.  The yarn is 70% merino, 30% silk. Here, they're knit on size 1 needles, altered to be knit toe up, with k3, p1 ribbing at the cuff. 

As a friend said when she saw me working on them, "Hmm, socks with holes purposely knit into them."  

It's about time, don't you think?

 

I know, I know.  I promised so long ago that I'd get all the yarns I dyed last spring and summer up and for sale, sometime around last November, wasn't it? Obviously, I never did.  

A handful of thoughts, questions, and excuses that have been preventing me from doing so before now: 

Will I be able to photograph and represent the colors properly?  Do I need a light box? Don't I need professional labels like seemingly everyone else has?  How much will shipping costs be?  I still don't have the "right kind" of scale so how can I properly weigh out the yarn?  How can I charge what I need to and not feel like it is too much?  Sure I love the process of using natural dyes, but I can't give the yarn or my time and efforts away.  What if my yarns don't live up to people's expectations?.....well, and just good old-fashioned procrastination, that's what.

After ignoring all of these and more questions and concerns all winter, it's high time to just dive in and address them, no?  Here's the scoop:

 

Each skein of yarn is individually dyed which takes considerable time, attention, and care.  Yarn is weighed and skeined and then premordanted with alum (potassium aluminum sulfate), considered the safest of mordants.  Dyestuffs are mostly gathered or grown personally, although some will be purchased, especially if I'm going to continue to dye during the late fall, winter, and early spring months. Dyestuffs are then prepared and then the dye extracted through simmering of the dyestuffs in water.  Each skein is then individually dyed, simmering for a minimum of one hour, sometimes overdyed in a secondary dyebath to achieve a particular or richer color, and then rinsed repeatedly before washing, drying, labelling, photographing, and listing.

As for the scale, yes, I use the kind of kitchen scale with a dial on the front but with the ones that I skeined up from bigger cones (those that weren't purchased as pre-weighed skeins) I've overshot the weight by enough to make sure they're over the 100 grams stated.

Dye materials are gathered or harvested with the utmost care and consideration.  In the wild, I gather no more than what I need and do so sparsely and selectively, only where a particular plant is abundant and not endangered, making what I feel to be very little impact.  Tree barks are gathered only from already fallen and dead trees.  Lichens are gathered only from places where they are abundant and only from fallen branches or from our firewood pile.  Some plants are grown and harvested either in our own garden or those of friends or family.  I also like to try and use plants that are considered noxious weeds in our area and hope to do more so in the future.

  

I know that people often have questions about natural dyes and their washfastness and lightfastness and, although I will not sell any yarns that are not reasonably so, if not very much so, I cannot guarantee absolute fastness to light and washing. 

It seems increasingly common to run across disclaimers such as this one, which I've been hanging on to for quite some time now for scanning, just for this purpose:

Found on, if I remember right, a pair of C's Carhartt canvas work pants, of all things.  You can practically watch Carhartt's fade with each and every wash, like a good pair of blue jeans. 

I also remember noticing a tag on a pair of deeply dyed jeans at Anthropologie a couple of years ago that warned against sitting on lightly colored pieces of upholstered furniture while wearing them.  The garment industry, even, cannot, and WILL not, guarantee washfastness.

I won't mention the name of the yarn, but last summer I accidentally left a ball of acid-dyed yarn out in direct sunlight for a few days and was surprised at how dramatically it faded on the side facing the sun in that short amount of time.

Even with superwash yarns I recommend hand washing in cool water and drying out of direct sunlight with a mild cleanser such as Eucalan or Soak.  Most regular detergents today are formulated to remove things such as grass stains.  What is a plant dye if not, essentially, a "grass stain"?  (Although I have washed some of my own plant dyed socks, some regularly and repeatedly, in the washer with common laundry detergents and noticed little to no color change.  Still, I wouldn't recommend it.)  

 

I repeatedly rinse the dyed yarns until the water runs clear or nearly so, with a final soak in Eucalan.  Still, some yarns are dyed with powders or are dyed directly in the dyepot with the plant material or dyestuff and so may still have minimal amounts of plant or dye material adhered to the yarn and that may continue to wash out for a few washings or so, but which should not noticeably affect the color of the yarn.  If I believe this is the case with a particular yarn, I will indicate so in the listing.   I think I've now found a strainer that will eliminate any residues, for the most part, in the future.  Who hasn't seen a store bought garment at one point or another release some of its dye in the first washing or two?

I can only photograph each skein as closely as possible to its actual color and, whenever possible, for reference, will show each skein in relation to other skeins dyed around the same time.  Besides, doesn't nearly every website out there have a disclaimer, too, about how color can vary from monitor to monitor?

As of yet, I haven't come up with any clever or cute packaging or nice labels, but that just doesn't seem reason enough to prevent me from finally offering last spring and summer's worth of yarns up for sale at this time. 

Besides, I can't knit all this stuff up myself, now, can I?  And, now that things are finally greening up and growing again around here, I'm itching to pull out the dyepots and I can hardly justify dyeing anymore yarn without letting the rest go.

In some ways, I'm glad to still have had all these yarns here together in one place so that they could all be spread out and photographed.  All together, they make for some awfully pretty pictures, if I do say so myself.

I'd love to hear any feedback you may have to share and, although I cannot take orders for particular colors, at least not at this time, I'd also like to hear about your color preferences and what you'd like to see here.  This is where more of my past dyeing adventures are blogged.  I'm hoping to try some new plants and purchased dyestuffs in the coming seasons, including Indigo, in particular.  

So.  Here we go.   The shop is open.   Enjoy poking around there and I hope you see or find something there that you like! 

I've been adding yarns since yesterday and will continue adding them today until they're all listed.  

And then it's back to the dyepot!

        

Mordant alternatives, Project Spectrum Metallics Recap.

The June/July colors for Project Spectrum of Red, Black, and Metallic weren't the easiest ones for me to participate in but it got me thinking about the metals that we have and use around here, both C in the woodshop, and myself in dyeing.

Metal salts are frequently used as mordants in the process of "naturally" dyeing of fibers.  They are not only used to "fix" the colors to the fiber but also different ones are used to achieve different colors from the same plants.  Alum (Potassium Aluminum Sulfate) is considered to be the safest of them, frequently cited as being safe for even children to use.  This is the only powdered form of mordant that I am comfortable using, in conjunction with cream of tartar, and still I do not include the boys in the mordanting of yarn. 

Some other metal salts used as mordants are Chrome (Postassium Dichromate or Potassium Bichromate), Copper or Blue Vitriol (Copper Sulfate), Iron or Copperas (Ferrous Sulfate), and Tin (Stannous Chloride) all of which are extremely toxic.  A Handbook of Dyes from Natural Materials, by Anne Bliss has terrifying descriptions of these that scare the living wits out of me and has certainly convinced me that I'll never, ever choose to use any of them.  How I wish all dye books had such frank descriptions.  Personally, I'd have a hard time calling my dyes "natural" if I were using such hazardous and deadly substances.  Even if I didn't have children, I would never choose to have these in my house, no matter how well labelled and stored.  The potential for  danger would be too great and disposal of leftovers into a septic system or watershed could be devastating.

There are some safer alternatives to powdered metal salts, however.  Lichens and some plants can either be used without mordants and can, themselves be used as a premordant for dyeing with other plants. 

A somewhat safer alternative to using the concentrated Copper or Blue Vitriol powder is a Copper Penny Green that I learned of years ago in a lichen dye class.  It can be used as a premordant, for overdyeing, or just as a dye itself.  (The sagey greenish-blue yarn above was dyed in this way)  Mix the following and keep in a nonreactive container such as a glass jar with a piece of plastic wrap between the metal lid and the contents:

Fifty pre-1982 U.S. pennies (pre-1982 they had a higher copper content)

3 and 1/2 cups water

1/2 cup ammonia

Keep in a nonreactive jar until color develops.  No heat is necessary when dyeing.  Just immerse fiber in the solution which can continue to be reused, topping off with more water and ammonia as necessary.  Wild Color, by Jenny Dean has a similar version that uses vinegar rather than ammonia and lengths of copper pipe in place of the pennies.  Another alternative is dyeing directly in an unlined copper pot.  I have yet to try that one.

An alternative to the Iron or Ferrous sulfate powder is dyeing directly in an unseasoned iron pot, or creating a similar solution to the copper bath but with rusty bits of iron: nails, screws, lengths of chain, horseshoes, etc.  These are methods that I often use.  So many dye plants produce yellow tones but the same plants can often give a greenish or greyish hue in an iron pot.  Wild Color also has a different version of this than I use that calls for vinegar and water as well.

Of course, these methods aren't entirely safe themselves I suppose but our kids are well aware that they need to stay clear of these things when they're out and in use.  They would never be out when other children were here.  And, of course, even with natural dyeing, you always use well marked containers and measuring cups and spoons that are designated only for use in dyeing.

None of this is new, I'm sure, to those who use natural dyes regularly.  I just thought I'd share for others who might be interested or are newbies at it.

More catching up on the past month-or-so's focus on metallics in the next post or two or three.  I know, I'm a little behind the times here but I figure I'm still on the cusp between the new and old PS color schemes, aren't I?

Regarding Tola's comment below:  Good question.  I haven't actually worked with this dyebath in awhile but I'd say leave the (wetted) fiber in for between an hour and 24 hours.  When it comes out of the dyebath it will be a brighter blue but will change to a more sagey-blue-green hue.   

 

Lace (nearly) Knee Highs

Yarn: Dahlia-dyed, last summer.  The khaki toes and heels are another plant dyed yarn.  I'm pretty sure it's dyed with Purple Loosestrife, possibly Canada Thistle.  Pattern: Lace Knee-Highs from Interweave Knits, Winter 2004.  I modified the pattern, making decreases earlier on, not in the interest of getting a personal fit, rather out of fear of running out of yarn.  Oh right.  That's why I don't like top down socks anymore, because panic about running out of yarn sets in about 2 inches after casting on and then the worrying about it during the rest of the knitting doesn't make for relaxing knitting.  A short row heel was substituted for the flap heel called for in the pattern.  I didn't bother with blocking, or actually, the quick pressing with an iron that usually happens before the final picture taking.

After seeing Lolly's version of this pattern last October, I gave the pattern another looking over.  These will need elastic or maybe some sort of I-cord tie threaded through the eyelets in the ribbing.  I just noticed in the post from last summer that, after dyeing this yarn, I was considering using the Falling Leaves pattern.  I'd have to say that "Falling Leaves" might be a more appropriate name for the "Lace Knee Highs" I ended up knitting.

Lincoln Green

The boys helped me gather Lombardy Poplar catkins for only a few minutes at the local plant nursery before wandering off to find something else to do.  R found a shady spot to put his nose back into The Adventures of Robin Hood and E picked out a 6 pack of violas to bring home.  Here is where I found them, in the shade:

As we drove away, R still reading, he piped up and asked, "Mama, what color is 'Lincoln Green'?"  Well, it isn't 'Lincoln Green', but this is the color that those catkins dyed a ball of Regia Silk sock yarn (a merino/silk blend) mordanted with alum:

I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't read about this in Natural Dyes from Northwest Plants, the very first natural dyeing book I purchased when I was living in the Seattle/Tacoma area.  When I first read this book, I had no idea what a poplar tree was, let alone a Lombarday Poplar or what a catkin was.  I had to refer to other books to find all that out.  What I did know was that I somday wanted to get the "Jade Green" as the book stated it would, even if it also rated the fastness of this color as "Poor."  In town last week, I noticed the purple catkins carpeting the bank parking lot next to a row of tall poplars.  It would have been easy gathering there but it's FAR too public of a place for me to stoop and collect them there.  People don't really need any more excuses to think I'm a little odd.  ;)  Instead, I found a more secluded spot at the plant nursery where I used to work, where one of my closest friends works now, and where one of the owners of the nursery is the high school art teacher and has done some natural dyeing herself, going so far as to bring dried hibiscus flowers back from a trip to Mexico for me to try using for dyeing.

I still can hardly believe it!  Those purple catkins that made a deep brownish-purplish dyebath dyed that color green!  So, I extracted even more color out of the catkins and added that in to strengthen the dyebath.  The only problem was that I didn't have any more yarn to dye.  6 days later when more arrived in the mail, I quickly mordanted a batch, put a skein of merino laceweight yarn in the dyebath, and came up with this:

Hmmm.  It's actually duller than this picture shows.  Blah beige.  Oh well.  The best thing about blah beige is that it can easily be overdyed.

There's a certain amount of magic involved in dyeing, and chemistry, too, I suppose, but I wouldn't know anything about that.  Aside from Calculus 101 in college, high school Chemistry is the only other class I ever dropped out of.   Apparently there are some limits to what my brain can grasp.  Why didn't I get the same green as before?  I have some ideas but really I don't know and don't really care to know the "real", scientific reason.  It's the unknown, the suspense, the excitement, the "what will this look like when I pull it back out of the dyepot?", the magic, the mystery, that keeps my interest, keeps me trying and experimenting with new plants or retrying old ones, sometimes in new ways.  The catkins are too far gone this year to try another batch, but there's always next year.  Maybe then I can figure out what happened here.

Lincoln Green, the color of the clothing worn by Robin Hood and his merry band was "first dyed blue with woad and then overdyed yellow with either weld or dyers' greenweed." 

Madge, Your Soaking In It or, The Makings of A Mehndi Artist or Two or Three.

7-8 years ago:  bought the book at the local bookstore with the best of intentions. 

February 2007: planned on making this a Valentine's week project.  After re-reading the book, decided, rather than gather all the supplies myself and attempt one of the multiple "recipes" in the book, to go ahead and order the kit recommended in the book.  Well worth it, I'd say, and nicely packaged.  Unfortunately I didn't order it in time for it to get here in time for Valentines' Day.  If you live near Seattle, you could pick one up yourself at Earthhues in Ballard.  I stopped in there years ago before they were open to the public for retail sales and it was an inspiring place to visit (and it's right down the street from Clover Toys!).  They also sell natural dye kits and individual concentrated dye extract powders.  I've never used any of those but know that they are very high quality and probably quite easy to use.    

This weekend:  Friday potluck at our place.  Saturday a parade, "gold digging" at the bank, and music in the park in town and an evening at the reclaimed lumber yard.  Sunday how about a relaxing day at home relaxing finally doing mendhi?  Despite the simplification of the process that the kit allows, the preparation still took some time, as it should, I suppose.  I did that part on Friday afternoon. 

Once we got over our "blank slate" hesitations and started painting, it was difficult to stop.  Now I can understand the tattoo addiction, though I'm not inclined towards a real one.  After doing a small medallion on each of the boys, R started in on himself and then went to work on his brother and his cousin.   E:  "Make it look like fake blood on my knee!"   Then, he dove in himself.  We eventually had to put a stop to it or they/we'd be covered. 

The results were a little, um, "rustic" this first time.  The boys weren't the only ones unable to sit still long enough to prevent the henna from running together or flaking off before the recommended several hours were up.  We'll be doing this again sometime.  The kit comes with enough henna to do three batches and one was far more than enough for C, his sister, our nephew, our two boys, and myself.  We used maybe a half to two-thirds of the batch.

As for the post title, something about the henna preparations, with the pot of tea and cloves boiling down on the stove, and the little bowls of henna paste and sugared lemon juice, not to mention skeins of wool soaking in the bathtub and pot after pot of dyeing and mordanting yarn and woolens on the stove these days (more on that soon) it just feels that, lately, like Madge, I'm "soaking in it."  I know, it's a stretch, but check out the video.  It's a blast from the past!