Perserverence > Skill

Greetings, Gentle Readers! When last we checked in with Campbell’s sweater, it was still a big nondescript pile of undyed yarn. In the days since, I’ve been doing a fair bit of trial and error in the hopes of getting the color he requested. As a dyer, it turns out, I make an excellent knitter. Which is fine with me. I don’t expect to be good at everything I try - in fact I like to keep the bar low in some areas (I’m looking at you , kitchen) to lessen the pressure.

In fact, I’m a big advocate of sucking at some things, just so I look better at others.

So when my Boyo chose Aubergine for his Aran knit, I determined that anything in the general zip code of eggplant would be good enough, and screwed my courage to the sticking place. Congratulations to Lindsay M., by the way, for the closest guess to what color I’m planning! Drop me an email with your mailing addy so I can send out your prize. And as always, to everyone who played: thank you so much for jumping in with your guesses!

Here’s how the adventure went down: First I made a few test swatches in little jars in the microwave, just to see what would happen. I was really happy with the Aubergine (#475) color I ordered HERE, just as it came out of the pot. That simplified everything, because I could abandon thougts of blending and then scaling the “perfect” combination of red-violet and blue-violet with brown, etc. to get aubergine.

The center one is darker than the one on the right, if you’re wondering - turns out this is a tricky shade to photograph. I liked all of these, actually. I eliminated the darkest one, because knitting really dark colors in the winter, mostly at night, is no longer the rollicking good time for my eyes that it once was. I was sure I’d like anything close to one of the other two, though. Armed with some measuring tools and the force of my steely will, I leaned in to Operation Aubergine.

I had a lot of free-floating anxiety about getting all the skeins to match. So even though just about everything I read cautioned against it, I decided to dye all 4,185 yards in one go, in my washing machine. I cranked the hot water heater up, removed the agitator from my trusty top-loader and stood by with an electric kettle of boiling water, leaving nothing to chance. Yeah, that failed. As you cen see above, the color that happened was less eggplant and more Grimace.

I still considered myself on the right side of the Dyeing Gods though, because A. I hadn’t felted the yarn, and B. the gross color was very consistient across all 17 skeins.

So next stop: Dye Pot on the stove. Did I mention we’re having a blizzard? Sure would suck to lose power in the middle of this project, I realized in the middle of this project…

With better control and higher heat (DUH) I was able to exhaust all the dye into the yarn, where it belongs. I did it in four batches because this is my biggest pot. I recorded the time and temperature for each step and repeated each exactly, including the bonus round of using the snow to accellerate each cool-down.

I reported my progress to Campbell, who was also celebrating nature by being trapped at his place on the other side of the Columbia River from me.

Still wet, the yarn looked miles closer to what I was going for. The only question remaining was would it all match from batch to batch. Ruby both approved and reassured me as she supervised.

I still wasn’t able to see whether my batches looked the same until the following morning, when they were dry and we had daylight.

Atlas was a fan of the drying process, and of the color, too.

And here we are! I couldn’t be happier with this color. I could honestly eat it with a spoon.

On behalf of rank amateurs everywhere, I’d like to report that tenacity can sometimes make up for a lack of experience. As long as the standards for success are low.

Would I ever do this again? Well, I didn’t bore you with what happens when you overflow your washing machine with aubergine dye in the middle of a blizzard. No one who’s met me will be surprised THAT happened. I also won’t point out that I’ve now got two whole days invested here, between re-skeining and dyeing (twice) all 4000 + yards. So yeah, it’s already a labor of love. Cheap in terms of cash outlay (between gift cards and multiple coupons, etc. I have around $40 invested in the yarn). Expensive if measured in time and anxiety. But worth it? Hell yeah. What else was I gonna do with my bonus blizzard day off?

The Power of Yes

Greetings, Gentle Readers, and a belated Happy New Year! Along with health, prosperity and yarn, in 2022 I wish for you something I’ve newly rediscovered: The magic and power of simply saying “Yes”.

I don’t believe in New Year’s Resolutions. That way lay peril, my friends, and the unhappiness guaranteed of disappointing oneself. No, instead, I wish you the gift of Yes.

A simple answer in the affirmative to all that life is offering us, every single day.

Here are some examples of Yes working its magic in my life so far this year:

Will I accept an invitation to a weekend at the beach in spite of not knowing anyone there? Yes. Result: a gaggle of new like-minded friends with different life experience than my own, and a standing invitation to visit their beach house.

Will I try digging for clams, even though it’s really cold and I don’t know how? Yes. Result: My first bivalve capture, and subsequent chowder.

Will I finally trust my daughter’s advice that I’ve been wearing my jeans three sizes too big and get sexy new skinny ones? Yes. Result: Immediate reduction in the number of times I hoist my sagging trousers, and a surprise coffee invitation.

Will I agree to have coffee with a funny gent who landed on my doorstep, even though I might have to talk about something other than knitting? Yes. Result: Instant connection. Sparks, even.

So that’s my hope for you all, Gentle Readers. Please look carefully at this day, with the stated purpose of looking for ways to say Yes. They’re all around us, all the time. The universe loves us and wants us to be happy. Yes to caring for yourself in little ways you’ve been putting off. Yes to taking the route less travelled, just because. Yes to my challenge to knit fearlessly (more on that, anon).

Remember that you are precious to me, and the best is yet to come. Yes to 2022.

How To Tell if You Are a Knitter

Last night we had a pretty formidable ice storm. After surveying the wonderland from the safety of my bedroom window, I leapt into action and dressed for the day. I settled on my favorite destroyed jeans, a t-shirt, and a Pendleton wool shirt that makes me feel like Johnny Cash. Here I am, ready for a day of pattern-writing:

Notice anything unusual about my Johnny Cash wool shirt?

How about now:

Yep. Those are stitch markers. I hooked them through the buttonhole on my shirt last time I had it on (who remembers?) to avoid losing them.

And then forgot all about them until today.

Knitting has become part of my body. An integral part of my everyday goings on. To the degree that I (and those around me) don't even notice. Three people and a dog saw me this morning before the first photo, and not one commented on the stitch markers. Okay, I'm letting the dog off because he might have tried to tell me.

And this is by no means new. I once had a hair stylist nimbly remove a cable needle from behind my ear. I'm forever stabbing myself on errant DPNs in the depths of my handbag. And don't get me started on the stitch markers. They are found in every conceivable crevice.

Yep, Knitting, I belong to you. Whether you want me or not, I'm yours. I've been assimilated. I hope it works out the way we both want.