After all the changes of the last few months, I finally had a quiet moment to start catching up on podcasts this weekend. This recent series of interviews with Dr. Lily Marsh on the Yarns at Yin Hoo podcast about Elizabeth Zimmerman and her influence on knitting is a fascinating mix of (relatively) recent knitting history, social history, and a glimpse at how historians work and draw conclusions. I’ve only managed to listen to the first episode in the multipart series (episode 268) but I’m hooked.
Western Mass Fiber Shed pop-up shop, the pillows I long for, and a brief Germany update
Perusing my Instagram feed this morning I came across two posts that immediately made me wish I was home. Re-posting them here for the folks who may not be on Instagram.
First, Western Mass Fibershed is having a pop up
In case the image isn’t loading correctly, the pop-up is at Swanson's Fabrics on Saturday April 17 from 11-2. On offer, locally produced wool fabrics in three fabrics and two-ply knitting yarns, all produced, spun, and woven locally. Contact email for questions, WesternMassFibershed@gmail.com
The Western Mass Fibershed had a table at Boston Farm & Fiber Festival last year (ah the before time) complete with samples of some of their woven goods (including a pair of very stylish fabric covered heeled oxfords!) and I have been longing to get my hands on some ever since.
Also on my Instagram feed, pillows from Full Circle Wool.
My neck, weirdly crunched from sleeping on IKEA pillows, longs for one of these.
Someday.
In Germany news, we have moved into our new long term apartment. We now live on the 4rth floor of a five story apartment block built in 1982. The attic is a “drying room” where everyone hangs their clotheslines. There are also communal clothesline in a small green space in front of the building. I hung our first batch of laundry yesterday. It was not a very neatly hung collection of tea towels and bath towels, and I was expecting a stern talking to for hanging out such messy washing from one of the older ladies. I think I did get scolded by a stern older lady the other day for accidentally biking back from the grocery store without my bike helmet. It’s that sort of place.
And just across the river, there are sheep! I am trying to work up the courage (and the German) to leave a note for the farmer inquiring about fleece, or the fiber community here.
I'm a wool sponge convert
Really I want to write about how much I love these wool sponges from Full Circle Wool, because they are genius and do an excellent job of cleaning dishes, but somehow in my head a post about these sponges has morphed into a long complicated essay about the overwhelming nature of the problem of climate change and how the idea that the responsibility for fixing it lies in our everyday choices is actually malarky invented by a PR firm working for BP as a distraction (because it was, and it worked).
But I don’t have the heart to write that essay at the moment, so let’s move away from the idea that converting to wool sponges made from the fleece of well managed flocks of sheep will save the world (though in a butterfly effect kind of way it won’t hurt).
You should convert to these sponges, really just thick pieces of felt, because they are really good at being sponges: they clean dishes and counters without crumbling into little sponge nuggets or developing that rank sponge smell, and then when you are done you leave them to dry and never have to give them another thought. The felt is made from coarser fleece, and so while they feel fairly soft they are also better at scouring than the plastic scrubby part of a conventional sponge without having to worry about scratching. And they are durable. We were wearing out a conventional sponge every two weeks or so, but our current wool sponge has been undergoing the same sort of use since August and is still going strong. And when it finally wears out we can compost it, or put it at the bottom of a houseplant pot.
They felt smaller with use, but the corners and edges remain the perfect tool for cleaning the funk out of travel mug gaskets.
Theses sponges are also a perfect example of the utility of the full range wool that different breeds of sheep produce. Look through any good book about sheep or fleece and you will come across a range of different ways that wool was used once upon a time; from the expected range of clothing, rugs, and blankets to the less remembered mattress stuffing and sailcloth (where wool has been superseded by plastic fibers and foams). As a strong supporter of “strong fleeces”, I really appreciate being able to replace something I loathe (plastic) with natural, renewable, carbon beneficial fiber that is often considered (these days) to be waste.
Even in you have no interest in the sponges, you should go to the Full Circle Wool website anyway. She has created an amazing, educational website with lots of information about Climate Beneficial Wool. Also - these. I’ll take two please!
Vermont Sheep and Wool
The yarn travel deities smiled upon me, the stars and the autumn leaves finally aligned, and I was lucky enough to spend a Saturday noodling north through forests resplendent in their autumn finery to Tunbridge, Vermont for the Vermont Sheep and Wool Festival. I varyingly listened to, and lost, seemingly all the New England NPR stations on offer as I wended through through old mill towns and over hills, past working dairy farms and unexpected remnants of manufacturing, admiring the vernacular architecture and lovely slate roofs along the way. The Toddler even slept through most of the drive (both ways!).
My visit to the festival itself was equally charmed, though much too brief. As usual I didn’t take nearly enough photos, but what few I did remember to take I posted to an Instagram Story, which I thought I would repeat here in a more permanent form, both as a reminder to myself and for those who might be interested.
This book looks fantastic and is one that I really want to add to my library (and also knit all the Selbu mittens!). Selbu Mittens, by Anne Bårdsgård
The Felting Studio continues to grow and every time I come across their booth I just want to loose myself in their felted hangings, as beautiful and intricate as a medieval stained glass window. My fingers itch to take up needle felting. Beyond the beautiful felt art, they have expanded their wares over the years, seemingly in any direction that takes their fancy, which is an urge I much support and admire. They are now producing the pattern for this lovely child’s jacket, and though I didn’t see any on display I must remember to ask if they are selling kits for it as well. I need to make this jacket. I just do.
I want to get in touch wth Steeple Chase Farm, in Fitzwilliam, New Hampshire (pardon the lack of link, they don’t appear to have a website) both because they are actually very close to where I live, but also because they have a flock of heritage sheep, including Teeswater. I came away with this lovely sampler pack including some Jacob and - ? I’m embarrassed to admit that I can’t remember what the light gray is - a very lustrous longwool; Leicester? It was getting late in the day for the toddler at this point and a conversation I really wished to linger on was instead conducted while doing the toddler soothing bop - my apologies to everyone in that display barn on Saturday at around 3:00. I really want to pick up my drop spindle and feel these beauties drift through my fingers and let them be the yarn they want to become, but the part of me that prefers planning wants to wait to make sure I have a project in mind first. All my two minds can really agree on is that I need to get in touch with Steeple Chase Farm.
And of course there were a host of lovely, charming, animals with gorgeous fleeces who I really wanted to take home.
Along the way I ran into many yarn friends, admired much knitwear, ate some fantastic salted caramel ice cream, and generally had an inspiring day. So thank you to all the vendor and organizers and fiber enthusiasts at VT Sheep and Wool!
Wool sponges!
One of my favorite things about wool is how many uses it can to put to. A quick perusal of most books about sheep will result in a long list of things we used to use wool for before the invention of plastics and/or the shift towards enormous flocks of sheep far away from centers of population made lower value uses for excess wool unprofitable. Wool could be a comfy mattress or pillow stuffing (and people are starting to do this again). Wool can be insulation (another use that is coming back). Wool can be cordage and sails (I would love to see this in action).
Apparently wool also makes great sponges. Poking through my instagram feed this morning I came across a post by @ladysheepshearer memorializing her beloved wool sponge, finally worn through after several years of use and now on to the next use, “probably holding water in a plant pot”. The sponge in question was made by @stargrazers of Full Circle Wool in Petaluma, California who sells them in a pack of two on Etsy (July 2020 Update: They have moved off of Etsy and developed their own website; sponges now available at www.fullcirclewool.com, and they also make pillows!). They also wrote a wonderful article about the dance between sheep and shearer during the shearing process for Fibershed.com, Choreography and Skill: How Sheep are Sheared.
Now off to buy myself some wool sponges…
(Apologies for not reposting the original Instagram post I am referencing - such things are beyond my pre-caffeinated brain).
July 2020: post edited to update link to wool sponges
Blog recommendation: Whistling Girl Knits
Watercolor of Belle Vue Sheep Farm by Richard Schlecht, National Park Service collection
Watercolor of Belle Vue Sheep Farm by Richard Schlecht, National Park Service collection
I have been trying to find the words to explain how and why I love this post (hopefully to become a series) over a Whistling Girl Knits, but I keep coming up short.
Podcasts I adore : 99% Invisible, and a book recommendation
The Podcast 99% Invisible as described on Stitcher:
“Design is everywhere in our lives, perhaps most importantly in the places where we’ve just stopped noticing. 99% Invisible is a weekly exploration of the process and power of design and architecture.”
As summaries go, this one is a bit dry, but it’s probably impossible to summarize the joy of a podcast devoted to delving into all the random elements of our world that are so taken for granted that most of us never even think to ask about how they came to be, if we notice their existence at all.
Last week’s episode, and the prompt that got me to finally write the recommendation that I’ve been meaning to write for years, was an interview with Kassia St. Clair, about her book The Secret Lives of Color. The book is a collection of essays, each about a given color, from ones that I have previously never heard of (isebelline - a light dun) to the ubiquitous (a history of beige). Sometimes she writes about the historical cultural associations of a color; sometimes she writes about the chemistry of a pigment or the history of its use. Whatever she chooses to focus on, the results are fascinating.
Working with natural dyes (spending two to three days to produce a green yarn, never mind the time required for scouring and mordanting before dyeing, and rinsing and drying afterwards) has given me much time to meditate on how I, and most of the modern world, take the easy availability of color for granted. The price of dyeing or coloring an item is so minimal relative to the cost of production, or so much considered to be part of the production process itself, that the cost and time required disappears entirely into the final price. Dark blue items do not cost more than light blue items. Undyed items are rarely cheaper (if they are available at all) than their dyed counterparts. We still have strong cultural associations with different colors (national flags, sports teams, high school colors etc) but unless we work in specialized fields, we rarely think about what is required to produce the color in question, or how amazing it is that we can so easily create it.
So we forget how much the quest for color has changed human history. As the host of 99% Invisible summarized in what has become one of my favorite quotes, our love of color is a “...real human pursuit: basically food, shelter, and the brightest color imaginable seem to be ingrained in our DNA”. Or, as Kassia St. Clair puts it, “We love shiny bright colors and we are prepared to do all sorts of weird and wonderful things to have them.”
Listen to it here, or on your favorite podcasting service.