Montana Wool Works

That’s all.

(As seen in the fence-line, spotlit in the bright afternoon sunshine, down at the end of the road this afternoon; did a u-turn on the highway.)

Walking on glass.

Tell me you’re a natural-dyer without telling me you’re a natural-dyer.

A dashboard of lichens, mushrooms, and tree parts is one give-away.

Sinking into the not-quite-frozen mud at the edge of a mostly-frozen lake, another.

I was only hoping to find out the pH of the water in one of these alkaline lakes, with the thought that it might be a local source of naturally occurring alkaline water for an indigo vat.
Of course.
As one does, as a natural-dyer.

What was I thinking?
(I was not.)
😮🤦🙄🤷
Oops.

At long last, black, on a formerly bright white cotton t-shirt, with natural dyes! Using ‘s color recipe for black in her newly published “Quilt Alchemy”.

It does feel a bit like alchemical magic, preparing and putting together all the elements that make it happen, with no indication early on that you’ll really get to black, and then, after the several steps spread out over the course of a few days, with more attention spent tending and stirring during the last couple of steps … there it is!
🖤

I would call it a nice “soft black”. Side-by-side, it’s the same black as the commercially dyed black corduroy jeans I was wearing with this. 🌑

(And, of course, it shows every speck of pet and human hair, firewood sawdust, and regular dust in my life.)

Now I’m looking forward to playing around with this recipe again on some linen yardage and cotton embroidery threads…

Fourteen swans a-swimming.

It is with such great pleasure to be holding Sara’s much hoped for and long awaited book, Farm & Folk Quilt Alchemy, and also to see it added to the shelves of this tiny little library where I now spend much of my time at work. It’s like having a little part of her here.

Not only will it be on the shelf here for our own local cardholders but, through the human-run miracle that is inter-library loan, it is also available to the patrons of libraries across much of this big state. Our furthest partner library is 589 miles away near the far southeast end of Montana. Currently this copy is already traveling 87 miles southwest for someone at the far end of my own county.

Of course I’ve also added a personal copy to my own natural dye “library” at home. Recent mornings and evenings have been spent slowly reading through from cover to cover, soaking in the beautiful images and reading every word about the hows and whys of working with natural dyes and different cellulose fibers.

So, Sara: Thank you oh so very much. From here forward you will be seeing the energy and time you’ve put into creating and sharing this with the world in the creations of others. I’ve already tried one of the color recipes and will share it here when the fabric is dried. I suspect it won’t be long before my copy is stained and a bit wrinkled here and there from the drips of dyebaths in progress. I know it will be shifting and expanding my own natural dye practices. It already has.

I first encountered natural dyes in a book on a library shelf 34 years ago, and that moment truly altered the trajectory of my life (no exaggeration). Perhaps something similar will happen to others through the generous documentation and sharing of your natural dye work and creativity, too!

It will also give me a spot of joy each time I see your book being checked out or sent out on holds placed, and then returning back home, ready to happen over and over again…

Sometimes you just want to be a little more subtle, a little more incognito, but could there be anything more ho-hum to knit than solid, plain, ribbed socks? Made, at least, a little less-so when they’re knit to hold secrets. ↔️ Slide for the reveal…

Not recommended to knit these going into the darkest part of the year. They had to be set aside several times until midday to be able to see well enough to count stitches and rows.

Perhaps someday there will be a white pair of incognito socks, too. Might have to be living with a 🐈‍⬛ first.

Main yarn is Squish in “Legend”. Contrast heels and toes are naturally dyed minis leftover from other socks.

Since they aren’t going to match anyways, you might as well mismatch the toes and heels, too, right? Somehow that seems to have made them a more cohesive pair, at least in my eyes, it did.

Just a couple of versions of home ↔️ from this fall thus far.

It is the watching the nuances of all the colors unfold and reconfigure and juxtapose unpredictably, as you unravel and then reknit, that is the best part of knitting with a dyed yarn blank. There are always parts that you love more than others.

And, yes, sometimes it’s hard to unravel them at all! This one took me two years before braving to do it.

What a surprise to find a bear’s head mushroom after last week’s temperatures down in the low single digits F°, and patches of the first snowfall remaining just a few feet from where this was.

It took some extra care to clean out all those needles fallen from the larch and other conifers before cooking! It’s surprising, also, how delicate and lacy this mushroom appears and yet how sturdy it and resiliently it holds together through that kind of cleaning and handling.

Torn into smaller pieces and sautéed with garlic in coconut oil, it was delicious for a quick, simple, late dinner with a little leftover lamb-burger over rice with a splash of tamari, and then the rest eaten pretty much the same way for breakfast, but substituting scrambled egg for the meat.

Spotted from the car, at first I thought it was just a piece of white trash (double entendre intended), as there is far too much of that in the woods around here, made extra visible this time of year with the leaves off the understory. I could have easily filled a big bag in my wanderings that afternoon. Guess I’ll have to start packing a trash bag along with me. 😑

And that officially puts the variety of wild edible mushrooms I found and consumed this year to lucky number thirteen. Next year I’m hoping for chanterelle, matsutake, and lobster, too. The 🦞🍄 more for dyeing with than eating, though.

Wishing, now, that I’d given myself more time during the summer for working with fresh flowers straight from the dye garden. Next year…

Proof positive that seemingly blah-beige yarn can be beautiful and have its nuances, too. I often think of these yarns as duds, initially, but then find them to be good “neutrals” to go with other shades, or, in this case, in their own right.

The pattern is “Stacking Wood” which I think I followed pretty closely, aside from knitting them toe-up. I especially like how they appear faux-woven and textured, like a woven basket 🧺, especially before blocking and wearing, and how the stitch pattern looks so different on the back than the front.

They were knit last spring and were set aside waiting for months, only to have a few ends woven in. Good timing, really, as it’s wood-shed-stacking-and-filling, and daily-firewood-carrying, feeding-of-and-tending-to-the-wood-stove-season, once again. And sock-wearing season, too, of course.
🪵🔥🧦

Socktober socks x 2
🔮🧪🍄🌿🌼🪄💫🧦
For some time, I’ve had this thought about playing around with how naturally dyed yarns and acid-dyed yarns can work together, and also, I’ve wanted to knit up a pair of October-y Halloween inspired socks.

Squish sock yarn in ‘Legend’ is a perfectly true black, making it just the right dark neutral for this idea.

The plan was to make the striped pair only, but then, early this month lee.knits announced a using her Little Dots Socks pattern, which I had already purchased.
We were headed out of town on vacation while the striped ones were on the needles, so I wouldn’t have to pack any extra yarn along if I used all the same yarns to start a second pair of socks.

And the idea of using yarns dyed with insects, garden grown flowers and leaves, and other foraged plants, mushrooms, and tree seeds, in combination with the artistic alchemy that goes into working with chemical dyes… all knit together… it all seemed like just the right mix of Practical Magic. There was the theme.

And now we have matchy-matchy-ish socks. Both were knit toe-up. His socks have a couple of stripes at the top for added height, and I skipped the afterthought heel, opting knit them as I went, as per my usual sock formula.

(Each pair has one mistake on only one sock. I dare you to find them. Or not.)

Having a hard time right now seeing the beauty in this world, through the pain of this world. Five months of cold and darkness ahead isn’t helping either. Will keep trying.

Will this pair of polka-dotted Little Dots Socks be finished by the end of the .lee.knits impromptu knit along? Maybe with enough time, energy, and a maybe a little Practical Magic… 🪄
Another skein of arrived in the nick of time before the weekend, just as tge last yards of the other skein (used for the striped pair, too) were being knit up. Phew!

Red cort beauties!
And only 11 miles from my front door. Also, after it’s snowed and frozen hard up higher.
Until now, I had thought these were only at a much higher and more remote elevation.

Still no frost, but the row covers hung to dry during the day double as spooky and ghostly decor.
I’m ready to let most of the garden go now, but maybe not quite yet the last of the precious indigo.

Coaxed pigment from one last bigger harvest this week, the fermentation moved along by bringing it indoors and plugging an extra electric heater in the bathroom for a few days, then moving it back out onto the porch for shifting the pH, aeration, and settling of the pigment.

There’s nothing quite like sitting on the cold, damp ground in the gone-to-the-weeds garden on an early October morning, rubbing handfuls of leaves and their blue-green juice into a head full of pigtails - gloves thrown aside after the first few minutes - turning your hair and hands blue, both , that spells (no pun intended) full-on practical magic, witchy goodness.

Now, I’m off to the woods in search of mushrooms for the cauldron…

🧙🏼‍♀️🌿🧵

September full moon tonight, notorious for a killing frost.

Evening gathering of dye flowers before covering with garden cloth as best as one can. It’s a harder task, trying to fully cover them at the end of the season when they’ve grown to their full height, than it was back in springtime when they were just seedlings and young transplants.

Snow on the mountain tops this morning. Leaves turning. Larch trees showing a tinge of yellow. Here we go…

The dye garden trifecta. Or, when green is not what it appears to be. Part 2.

The dye garden trifecta. Or, when green is not what it appears to be. Part 1.

The very first yarn that I pulled from a dyebath came out just as bright a yellow as this and was created by this same plant: Queen Anne’s Lace. That was over 30 years ago! The bright color from this white-blossomed plant was so surprising, it blew my mind, and I was hooked.

That was in Tacoma, WA where QAL was growing, weed-like, alongside train tracks.
Here in Montana, the nearest wild patches of it are a 2+ hour drive away, so this year I grew a small patch in the garden for the first time, from seeds gathered along the way somewhere.
And today, once again pulling this out of the dyepot - even while knowing what to expect - left me as equally smitten by the brilliant bright yellow this plant gives, as I was that very first time.

Sometimes the mushrooms find you… as in, when you’re out feeding the dog in the pasture in the morning on the way to work.

Mushroom dyed sampling from the weekend’s wanderings!
All gathered within a short hike or walk from our campsite, some varieties within inches of one another in some places. Still, many hours of wandering and foraging with a good amount of climbing and bushwhacking… only to find some right in the campground. 😁
Left to right:
• Cortinarius smithii
• Pholiota sp.
• Cortinarius sp. mix (mostly a browner cap but with hints of red and orange, nearby and alongside some of the C. Smithii)
• Blue chanterelle
• Hypomyces aurantius (encrusting a red belted polypore)
• Gynompilus sp.

All on superwash merino/nylon, premordanted with alum.

Mushrooms were all gathered just over the ridgeline of the mountains beyond in the third photo, taken from down here in the valley out in the yard.

Wowza! Incredible and dramatic purple skies up in the old orchard this evening just before dark.

Thank you, sundog, for being there, just then, when I needed you.

It’s official. This is my new favorite eco-printer. I really didn’t expect much from these with all that white on the petals, but we’re they a surprise!

Here, on silk. On cellulose, the yellow part went more green, and the orange centers went more rusty (last photo).

So pretty in the garden, too. Go put these on your seed list order for next year! Coreopsis tinctoria “Incredible Swirl”.

How is this even possible?

An assortment of recent foraged mushroom and plant dyes + a couple from the garden (Japanese indigo + weld). All 10 gram sample skeins.

Gotta get on labeling these before I forget what they are!

Gathering mushrooms after moving irrigation pipe in the evenings is one of the best summer things. Marasmius oreades pop up in fairy rings in the pasture throughout the summer, and often there’s more than enough for breakfast eggs, for pizza topping, or for stir-fry.

#🧚🏾‍♀️💍🍄

The real deal.

So smoky.
🤢🌫️😷

The biggest Marasmius oreades fairy ring out in the pasture. The irrigation water doesn’t quite reach this one. Hoping for enough rain for it to flush out again this summer.
🍄🧚🏾‍♀️💍

Some of the sock weight yarns being skeined and labeled for this coming weekend’s local .
(Plus Eureka Outdoor Quilt Show. Plus Friends of the Library Used Book Sale. Plus Open Mic fundraiser for the Friends of the Library.)
Just a little bit going on. Best summer weekend in town.

as per usual.

When you go to ply your next singles yarn on itself from a center pull ball, and just as you’re about to start plying, you look down and realize how uncannily similar it is to the thrifted melamine “school lunchroom confetti” bowl that you grabbed out of your camping gear that you’re using to contain the ball of yarn at your feet while you ply.

Flowers that patrons bring to the library from their gardens for the circulation desk… that I then bring home with me to enjoy over the days that the library is closed.

#💐

Not huckleberries.

Paddle boarding with your people is 99% more comfortable (physically and mentally, both) now that they bring your car blanket along. This blanket, bought in Tijuana, Mexico, has been in my life since spring break of my 1st year at university in 1988. Testimony of the power of textiles to both comfort and endure.