Hand-dyed woolly goodness

Two entries in one day! This is a first. But I've been remiss as far as bloggerdom is concerned,and it's making me feel a little guilty.

Not only that, but right now I'm pretty tired of scouring stinky sheep fleece. Which isn't so good, 'cause I've got a long way to go before it's done. Willow and Maura's friends are waiting.

It's been busy the last couple of days. Spent Saturday the 19th at the Jamaica Fiber Festival. It was rainy and cold and generally a disgusting day. Surprisingly, I sold lots of stuff. (No one was more astonished by this than me.) I was up under a porch so at least I didn't get rained on, but I was so damp I thought I would mold. Just to give you a hint, Frank and I unloaded the car at about 9 a.m. It was raining then, and my hair got wet. No problem, I won't melt... but it was so mucky and humid even under my little shelter that the damn hair was STILL WET at 4 p.m. when the festival ended.

For those interested, here are some pictures of the sort of eye candy I had at the festival. (For those not of the fiber junkie persuasion, well, this all SHOULD be interesting to you - since fiber is fascinating and wonderful and lots of fun - but I'll forgive you for not realizing it quite yet.)

Sooner or later, I'll get stuff posted on the store web site, but the stupid thing is kludgy and awkward and I'm gonna do a major revamp of the coding before I post anything else, so it might be awhile.

Picture 1: Yarn. A crapppy photo of many skeins of hand-dyed, in sock weight and worsted.

Picture 2: Dyed Corriedale, two ounces in each bundle. These are fun. I paint 'em in complimentary colors, so if you're feeling bold you can ply one bundle against another and get something really unexpected and cool.

Picture 3: Sock bundles, superwash, six ounces each. I have learned through bitter experience that in my house, no matter how often or loudly I say "DON'T PUT THE SOCKS IN THE WASHING MACHINE" they will in fact find their way into that swirling, felting vortex. Therefore, in this house, socks for anyone other than me are made from washable wool. Period.

I deeply envy those of you who can knit hand-wash only socks with confidence. I knit hand-wash socks for myself on occasion, which works out fine. Socks for other, unnamed persons who reside in this household? Socks for anyone at all besides me? Superwash, baby.