I’ve been commissioned to do 34 skeins of yarn for a sock club based out of a yarn shop –  I’m keeping the details secret until the finished yarn arrives at the shop  –  and am awaiting delivery of the base yarn today.  FedEx tracking says it left the local warehouse at 3:52 am, so it should be along pretty soon.  While I wait, I’m getting ready by cutting choke ties, 4 for each skein.

Cut string

I do this by putting a 30 inch length of pearl cotton on a ruler, cut it,  build up a pile of 30 inch pieces, and then cut them into 10 inch pieces.

Pile of string

That ought to be enough, and if it isn’t, I’ve got plenty of pearl cotton.

There was a great sounding recipe for halibut in the paper Sunday, and I made it last night.

Just for the halibut

Wowza!  Fresh halibut slow baked in a bath of olive oil, on a bed of seasonal vegetables, then cloaked in a hollandaise-type sauce, made from the olive oil used for baking the fish.  The sauce came out thinner than I would have liked, I think because I scooped up some of the fish juices along with the oil, which no doubt thinned it.  Next time I’ll be more careful.

I’ve been mulling over a sock design for some weeks, and just took the first step to making it a reality. I’ll post here as it moves forward, but be warned, this will be about as fast-paced as watching oil dry up!

First: the inspiration. I pass by a grove of birch trees at least twice a day on school days. I’ve always loved birch trees, so graceful, and the white bark with black streaks so interesting, and fun to peel off. The trunks of this grove were the main show all winter, but now the new green leaves are coming out, delicate and dainty.

The lovely birch grove

The lovely birch grove

I kept thinking, “Wouldn’t knitted birch trunks look cool?” and finally had an idea of a simple way to give that effect, maybe. Take white yarn, dye small sections of black and knit a sock that will have mostly white with black streaks. But then, even better how about purling just the black sections so they’ll stand out more?

Dyeing small sections of black onto white yarn has its problems. Dye moves on yarn, and can separate into its component colors on the edges. With the black I use, it separates into brown and tan, which is not what I want. But, there’s a product that thickens dye, so that may do the trick. I’ve now got my hands on some, and can give it a try.

Take some Sturdy Sheep base yarn

Virgin skein

wind off a small amount, and give it a bath

Time for your bath

in warm soapy water to remove the spinning oils. Note the high tech yarn bathing tub. The Super Clear is the dye thickener, and by the way? If you need any dye supplies, or undyed fabric or garments, Dharma Trading Company is fabulous. Great service, amazing selection, cannot recommend them too highly.

This skein was washed and had somewhat thickened dye applied to damp yarn.

Wet wool

The dye really traveled, so the black areas are considerably larger than I made them, but the dye didn’t separate as much as it would have without the thickener.

I had some dye leftover, so I added more thickener and quickly wound off some dry, unwashed yarn.

Dry wool

The dye stayed put much better, but still separated at the edges some. I can live with this, but on both skeins, the white yarn picked up more stray molecules of dye than I would have liked, so it is distinctly beige. I think what I need to do is be vigilant like a hawk during the rinsing/soaking process, because it seemed to me the white was whiter when I pulled the yarn out of its little plastic cocoons after steaming. So, a quick soak in Synthrapol laden water, a rinse under plentiful water, maybe another plain Synthrapol soak, another rinse, the ammonia bath with more Synthrapol, another rinse, then the final vinegar pH reset… . maybe with a bit more Synthrapol. No lolling around watching Carrier while the dye molecules frolic and find new homes.

Next I’ll try the thicker dye solution on washed and dried yarn, as well as washed and damp yarn again, but planning for the extended travel of the dye.

But first, I knitted up the better of the first skeinlettes
Sample

and put it in my birch tree. It’s a Whitebarked Himalayan birch (Betula jacquemontii) so it doesn’t have much in the way of black areas like the European birch trees in the pictures above.’

Still, I think there is maybe a bit too much black in the yarn. It’s a tough call, though, because I do want some areas to pool into larger black sections like you see there. And if there isn’t enough black, then those areas won’t end up being in line with each other every now and then. More sampling is is clearly called for.

WordPress got cranky yesterday and, I think,  had to take a nap, so I couldn’t post the promised follow-up in a timely manner.  If you want to cut to the chase, the answer is tortillas.

Toast me!

The recipe called for Garam Masala, an Indian spice mix that is sold at most nicer stores, but I like to make my own, from a recipe in Moghul Microwave, a fine cookbook by Julie Sahni that should be reprinted, but is available used.  Most of the spices are toasted, then ground — then fresh grated nutmeg is added for a final note. It’s a pungent blend of cumin seed, coriander seed, cardamom pod, black peppercorns, cinnamon, cloves, and bay leaf.

More spices, I say

The lentil recipe also called for ground ginger, cayenne, and more cumin, and here they are along with the ground garam masala.  When I make this again, I think I’ll cut back on the cayenne, since there was a lot of black pepper in the garam masala, and it came out a bit spicy hot for a cosy bowl. But then I did find a green chili pepper hiding in the veggie bin that went in also.

Spicy black lentil bowl

It was really good! The lentils hold their shape, like green lentils do, so it’s not a thick soup.  I think adding some pink lentils, which break down very quickly, would make it into one of those stand-your-spoon up-in-it soups.

In fiber-related news, I’ve started a Damselfly Yarn  group on Ravelry, and I’d love to see you there! Wait time for joining Ravelry has dropped to just a couple of weeks, and it’s a great resource and network for knitters, crocheters and spinners.

Black is the color of my lentils\' skin

I have some black lentils from the bulk bin at the grocery, and found this recipe that looked great on Words to Eat By, a food blog that is well worth delving into. 

So can I make dinner without having to go to the grocery? Let’s see . . . got onions, celery, carrots, broth left from simmering country-style ribs into shredable bits, spices aplenty . . . no sweet potato, which would make it very good, but I think it can be skipped without disaster.

Some small cucumbers that need to be eaten quickly as they are ageing a bit, some plain yoghurt . . okay, those’ll combine into a raita/tzatziki thing.  There are tortillas in the freezer, but also some couscous.  I’ll decide later on that.  Why yes, I can make dinner without going to the grocery! Stay tuned for the exciting follow-up tomorrow.

In other news, I snapped a picture of some freshly dyed yarn resting in a pot of its namesake which came out nicely

It isn\'t raining rain, you know, it\'s raining violets

Violets BFL superwash sock yarn, and it can be yours.

In honor of Earth Day, and because I hate to let a good marketing opportunity go by, I’ve posted a couple of Earth Day Specials at my Etsy shop.

A bundle of BFL roving, colorway Grass, for $12 instead of $15 until Wednesday,

Wooly goodness

and a skein of sock yarn with a story that began here, colorway Ivy, only for sale until I log back in on Wednesday, because it’s not on any of my usual base yarns, and if it doesn’t find a nice home quickly, I think I’ll make it into socks.

For love of Ivy

I’ve also some great new base yarns: BFL superwash, SeaCell/Merino superwash, and Merino laceweight.  If you haven’t looked lately, I’ve uploaded a lot of new items, and more to come this week and next.

And the offer regarding the free WrapSack (scroll to the end) is still on!

Last night

Downright mean, in fact.

My basket filled with snow

The snow came back thick and heavy last night, and this morning

Faceplant

there was a measured total of 4 inches on my front steps.

Hidden hyacinth

Not normal, I’m telling you.

Downtrodden daphne

It’s got to be hard on the plants that have starting acting like it’s really spring.

Rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb

But mightn’t a cold snap sweeten up the rhubarb stalks?

Tonight we’re going to a fund raising dinner for the Friends of the University of Washington Libraries, an event I’m on the planning committee for. As a group, the committee has decided to dress in spring colors for the event.  I do have some nice spring colored sweaters, but I’m telling you , the open-toed sandals are staying home this year.

Snow day

People!  This is not normal April weather for the Puget Sound area.  Granted, we live in the convergence zone, but this is ridiculous.

Chilly cherry

April 18th.

Chilly rhodie

Fer real.  The previous latest snow that’s happened since we’ve been here was April 4, and this is much heavier.  In fact, today, we’ve had a little bit of everything — rain, hail, small snow, big fat fluffy snow, and even a tiny bit of sunshine.  Weird.

In other news, last night I made a really nice dish of fresh pasta, served with a fat roast chicken, salad, and a very tasty Italian Rose.

Warm pasta

Pardon the messy bowl, I took the picture after dinner. I made the pasta myself, and it was extraordinarily toothsome.  The recipe was from Alice Water’s remarkable cookbook The Art of Simple Food, a book I cannot recommend too highly. I gave it to ‘most everyone for Christmas last year and cook from it often. It is a distillation of her years of being a restauranteur in the French and also West Coast modes, and her passion for local, fresh food, all put together in a well written and usable text.

The pasta called for extra egg yolks, and perhaps that is the secret. Two cups of flour, 2 whole eggs and 2 additional egg yolks. Mix into a rough dough, adding a tiny bit of water if necessary, which I had to do. Wrap in plastic and let sit for an hour. This is one of those statements in life that when you hear, you must believe it. So I say again, if the instructions for any flour-containing recipe say, “Let sit for an hour, “believe it.

I’ve noticed a few other statements that work that way, too, by the way.  When a child says he has to throw up?  Believe it.  When a person you feel romantically towards says, “I’m no good for you,” believe it. The third one, when a waiter in an ethnic restaurant says “You no like”, I merely take with a grain of salt.  It’s usually just fine, but then I’m adventurous culinarily.

But back to the pasta.  After its hour-long nap, I rolled it thin and cut it into fettucine, then tossed with it flour, covered it with a cloth and put it in the fridge for a couple of hours until dinner.  Other recipes have called for drying the pasta on sticks, artfully arranged around the kitchen, but this was simpler and worked fine.  Boiled in ample salted water, tossed with some olive oil and Cibo’s Sun-dried Tomato Pesto, and it was a delectable treat. Try it!

The Internet is an amazing thing.  It has its odder corners, and as the Peter Steiner cartoon in the New Yorker  put it, “On the Internet, nobody knows you are a dog”, so deceptions can occur.  But connections with real people do happen, and sometimes you have the treat of meeting in person.

Cathy of Hither and Yarn was in town, on her way to Blue Moon Fiber Arts Sock Camp, on Orcas Isand, and we arranged to get together for some serious eating, sightseeing, and chatting.  No yarn shopping, because she’d been on  yarn crawl the day before with other sock campers. Greg and I picked her up at her hotel and took her to Top Gun for dim sum, which was fabulous — the best I’ve had in Seattle. Then, on to Bellevue Botanical Garden for some fresh air, scattered sunshine, and flowers.

Cathy at the garden

Here we are on the path below the perennial border.  Cathy is on the left, and note the Ravelry scarf peeking out from under her jacket.

Trillium

The trilliums were blooming in the woods.  Cathy said they also grow in Wisconsin, where she is from, but she usually doesn’t get into the woods in the spring, so it was nice to see them here.

We drove into Seattle for a quick peek at the cherry blossoms on the UW campus (a little past their prime, but still nice), then on Pike Place Market browsing and stocking up on used paperbacks for her spare-time reading at Sock Camp, with a stop for coffee and pastries.  A stroll down to the waterfront was next, but it started raining, so we didn’t make it to the Olympic Sculpture Garden.  As Cathy had knitting homework to complete, we headed back down to her hotel.

Knitting homework? Yes, apparently Sock Camp assigns a task to be completed before you arrive.  You would think it would be socks, but no, it’s  . . .

It\'s a . . . .?

What is it exactly?

The assignment was “Make a toilet paper cover”.  Cathy knitted and felted the black structure, and was then knitting a lacy outer layer — I think the assignment rules called for using

 

 Yarn supply

scrap yarns, so an assortment awaited their fate. I especially  liked the

Socks!

socks on the feet of the base.

That yarn crawl I mentioned —  Cathy had bought rather a lot of yarn and asked if I could ship it back to her, so she wouldn’t have to buy another suitcase, pay excess baggage fees, etc.  So I got to take it home and fondle it discretely.  That lady can shop!  Kauni, Socks That Rock, Mountain Colors, Panda Silk  . . . and she trusted me to mail it all to her! 

On it\'s way!

Yeah, rather a lot of yarn.

She also gifted me with a rather sumptuous bag o’goodies:

 Bag o\'goodies

Some handmade soap, a KnitPicks View Sizer, and a skein of the much-sought-after, impossible-to-get Wollmeise Yarn, in the Drachenblut colorway. Wow!  Thank you, Cathy!  One of your packages has a couple of  extras in it that I hope you like half as much as I do these goodies.

Please note the cloth sack that everything came in.  It’s a Wrapsack, yet another Internet thing.  It has a unique number on the tag, and I’ve logged it in on their website. When another person receives it, they can log it in, and its journey from person to person can be followed if you have its number.  I’m giving it to the next blog reader who buys something at my Etsy shop – just put “Wrapsack” in the “comments to seller” box, and it’s yours.

 

This sock wasn’t through teaching me lessons. I was knitting along, turning the heel and proceeding to move up the back of the heel, when the directions in Cat Bordhi’s excellent book, New Pathways for Sock Knitters told me to move what she calls “wing stitches” back to the heel needle. Uh oh. Mine were already on the heel needle, and I had done my short rows for the heel with them there. No wonder the sock was strangely large in the ankle area. Strangely large is not something that is restful to contemplate in a sock that is 8.5 stitches to the inch width-wise and 11.5 rows per inch lengthwise. This, for those who care, makes for 97.75 stitches per square inch.

There was nothing to do but rip it back to where I went wrong, namely in not moving the wing stitches to the instep needle.  Remember when I said I have no luck picking up all the live stitches in yarn this fine? The sock took it as a sign of weakness on my part, an opportunity for a Life Lesson .

 Strangely large

Here are the sole stitches carefully picked up –  me hoping it was every single one.

Needle, inserted

Everything above the needle?  Doomed to be ripped out. Several square inches.  Oh well.

 
Pile of frogged yarn

Turns out I inserted the needle one row too far down
So close!

but every stitch is accounted for.

After that angst-filled afternoon, wine was called for.

Fortunately, it the day of the Nota Bene  2005 vintage release open house. We had pre-ordered a case, so got to taste the new wines and put together a selection to take home, as well as listen to some great jazz by Phlonomenon.

Percussion
Cello and keyboard

The sock didn’t get any wine.

 

 

 

 

Now I’m sure there are those of you who will say that it’s nothing much.  But for me, I feel I’ve taken a step into the world of the grown-up Knitters.

I was working away on what I am calling Suitcase Socks, which I’ll explain more about later. They are pretty staightforward socks, but made from my lovely new base yarn, a superwash 100% Blue Faced Leicester; soft, soft, soft.  The pattern has 2 x 2 ribbing on the instep and leg, and how hard can that be?  Knit two, purl two, repeat. But I looked down and saw this:

Oops

Find the stitch on right hand side of the  left needle, follow down that row four stitches, and you’ll see the bar of a purl stitch instead of the V of a knit stitch. What to do?  Carefully unknit four rows, one stitch at a time? (I have no luck picking up all the  live stitches in yarn this fine if I just ripped it.) Or insert a spare set of needles below that point into every stitch, then rip? (see above).  Or . . . ignore it?  It’s just one stitch, it’s way down by the toe, no one will ever notice . . . except me. Can I give them lovingly as a gift, knowing that there is what is becoming in my mind a honking giant mistake,  right on the toe for heaven’s sake, where it will be noticed whenever the feet are put up on a coffee table? Err . . . .  no.

It became clear what I had to do, and I prepared carefully.

Stabilize

First, using a spare needle, I stabilized the lower side of row in question, plus a buffer stitch on either side, plus some more random stitches on either side to anchor the whole thing. Yes, at moments like this I am a belt and suspenders sort of person.

Rrrrip!

Then, I took the top stitch of the row off its needle, held my breath, and let it rrrrip down to the stabilizing needle.

Happy to hook

Then, I took up my trusty crochet hook and looped my my way correctly back up to the top,

All done!

 put the newly corrected row back onto the working needle, and knitted on.

Now, this is not Extreme Frogging, as practised by Some People.  No, this is small, and modest.  But for someone who was this century pretty pleased at figuring out how to turn a knit into a purl or vice versa, when encountering it on the next row, it’s pretty good.