Into the wild

Last weekend we packed up and went off to Yorkshire, just for fun. I was very excited because, after looking at the map, it became quite apparent that we were heading into the mother lode of sheepdom. Masham, Swaledale, Wensleydale..swoon

We drove up on Friday afternoon, and Saturday morning found us out and about wandering in the Yorkshire Dales National Park, a place that has now imprinted itself on my heart because there's a sheep head in their logo.

I found out later that it's a Swaledale sheep head, to be specific. Anyway, there we were, wandering about in the hills, and guess what we found wandering around all on their lonesome?

Sheep, strangely enough. There was something very unexpected (to me) about these sheep.

They've got tails! Long, shaggy, kind of gross tails! Once I got over that excitement, I had a lovely time running down the trail, calling out to the sheep and stopping to take even more crappy mobile phone photos (I dropped my point-and-shoot digital camera a couple of weeks ago, and while it still takes pictures just fine, the display screen doesn't work, so I have no idea what I'm taking pictures of).

My family thinks I'm nuts, but thankfully, they still put up with me. The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook identifies these babies as the famous Swaledale sheep breed, which is both yay! and boo!, because we were in Wensleydale and I wanted to see some sheep dredlocks.

Sunday dawned (and stayed!) extremely foggy, so we wandered around York, walking along the medieval city wall, disturbing Sunday services at York Minster, and checking out the Vikings at the Jorvik Viking Centre.

These would be the disturbances

Twas a fab trip, and has only instilled a desire to go back and wander the Dales until I find some more sheep. Barring that, I have some pictures of what I've been doing with all the dye and fiber that's been flying around my house of late for the next post. Don't miss the pretties!

The importance of rinsing

Yesterday I took a break from all the knitting that is ongoing, and did a wee bit of spinning instead. I tried another new-to-me wool, some mixed English wool that Boo dyed a few months back - same color scheme as her Cheviot socks, but slightly darker colors. However...I discovered that the fiber didn't get rinsed out quite enough, because my fingers turned blue. Oops!

 

That's after an hour of plying this morning - last night after a couple hours of spinning the singles, my fingertips were bright blue!  I gave the finished yarn a good soak, so hopefully all the other excess dye is now gone. I guess I'll know for sure when I start knitting with it.

 

This wool reminded me of the Cheviot in that it was not terrifically soft, but had a nice grippy feel when spinning the singles. The finished yarn reminds me a bit of the Bartlett yarn I'm using for my MIL's sweater, although not as lofty. It's a very rustic yarn. I'm thinking lined mittens for Boo, to match her socks.

In other spinning/handspun news, I've almost finished off Dev's Sprout sweater.

We went to York last weekend, and my yarn-dar did not let me down. While wandering around the city streets, we happened upon a yarn store. Dev and I went in while Himself and Boo continued on. The yarns were lovely, but nothing I needed to snatch up and take home with me. They also had a nice selection of buttons, so after much hemming and hawing, we brought home these.

Perfect buttons for my little English schoolgirl. Hopefully she'll be wearing it by next weekend.

Dragonlady

Those of you who know me in real life (and maybe some of you who don't) may be aware that I have *ehem* a small book problem. Or rather, a large book problem. To be more specific, a large collection of what my husband lovingly* refers to as "trashy science fiction". I can trace the origins of this problem directly to two people: my father, who (perhaps by intention?) put his extensive sci-fi collection within easy reach (Thanks Dad!) and, more indirectly, my Aunt Laura.

We moved to Boston when I was seven, and there I discovered my aunt's fabulous house and her books. Oh the books. Hallways and rooms covered floor to ceiling with packed bookshelves, which she was more then happy to loan to me. It was like my own private library. And one of the first authors she introduced me to was Anne McCaffrey. She handed me "Dragonsinger" and that was it - I was hooked. I read it cover to cover, barely pausing to take a breath, and then I went out and read all the other Pern books I could find. And then the Crystal Singer series, and then The Ship Who Sang. And on, and on, and on.

In sixth grade, my very writing-centric teacher had us all write a letter to our favorite authors, and I chose her. I sent off my letter, and lo and behold, some months later, I got a reply. That she had actually written (or dictated - it was typed) and signed and sent to me. This was heady stuff for a ten year old, and I was thrilled. I wanted to have green eyes and white hair and live on a farm in Ireland and write books about dragons when I grew up.

My eyes are still blue, and my hair is going a bit grey around the edges, and I don't live on a farm - London is as close as I've managed to get to Ireland, and the books I've managed to write typically don't have dragons in them. I have spent the intervening 30-odd years since that first introduction obsessively reading and rereading Anne's fantastically accessible and thoroughly engaging books. And I still enjoy them every single time. In this season of thankfulness and celebration, I would like to say "Thank you Anne. Thank you so very much. You will be missed."

* Really. It's loving when he says this. I promise...

What happens when you knit socks out of handspun yarn?

They go really quickly! We went to York this weekend, and I managed to finish the first sock more or less on the way up. Of course, I had to redo the ribbing because I decreased too far and it wouldn't stretch enough to fit over my (rather generous) calves. But now the first one is done and I'm halfway down the foot of the second. Win!

Hopefully by the end of the week I will have handspun thigh high socks to enjoy. Maybe even in time for Thanksgiving!

A four handknit day

And it should have been five...

The list: socks, sweater, scarf and mittens. One handspun, one of my own designs, and four (!) different color families. The thing that's missing is the hat my mom knit me, in yet another color group.

I guess this means winter is here, hunh? Brrrrr!