Indigo blues make me happy

On Sunday, a bunch of FiberGuild members descended on Linda's house to brew up a batch of indigo. In the spring, I gave Heather and Natalie some Japanese indigo seedlings for their gardens. They donated their leaves to the effort, and I sacrificed my entire patch.

This is Heather's pot o' indigo, freshly denuded of leaves.

Here's what's left of my contribution. Kind of sad looking, no? Later I went over each stem in the box to capture as many seeds as I could so that those of us who want to grow indigo next year can. Right now the seeds are on a cardboard box on top of my dryer, drying out so that I can clean out all the stems, leaf remnants, and other detritus before dividing up the seeds.

And here's our pot o' leaves. Such excitement! Let me show you why.

This is a jar of indigo ... slurry? ... that Carol brought.

Mmm! Check out that color on the glass and on the scoop.

Linda put a damp skein of natural fiber into the jar.

She gently pushed it into the goo to make sure every fiber was saturated.

In less than a minute, Linda pulled her skein out. You can just see it starting to turn blue as the oxygen hits it.

She smooshed out most of the liquid back into the jar. Waste not, want not, right?

Just look at that color! And that's after very little time at all in the indigo goo. Swoon!

Meanwhile, our leaves were heating up. I don't "do" indigo dyeing unless someone else is there to take responsibility and tell me what to do. I don't do well with measuring, recording, and the like. I'm definitely a seat-of-the-pants dyer, and you can't expect to succeed with indigo if that's your approach.

While I was off playing with one of Linda's dogs, the gang had strained out the leaves, and this is what we had in the pot.

This is the lovely Stacey, our photographer extraordinaire and bright ray of sunshine. Hi, Stacey!

At some point in the process, you have to test the liquid's pH. Again, not my specialty. Anyway, if the liquid's too acid or basic (is that the right word?), you need to add washing soda. That's WASHING soda, folks, not BAKING soda. Big difference.

After the first tablespoon of washing soda was added, blue is starting to appear on the back of the spoon.

At this point, you need to remove the oxygen from the liquid. To do this, some people pour it back and forth from pot to pot; others give it a vigorous, constant stirring. What we did was use a bubbler. If you've ever had an aquarium, you know exactly what this is.

Bubbles are good!

Maisie, the younger of Linda's two dogs, was great entertainment while we were waiting for the indigo to reach the right temperature for dyeing.

"Pay attention to meeeee!"

That scummy film is a sure indicator that we're good to go!

Our very first indigo-dyed yarn! I didn't realize it until this point in the process, but neither Linda nor Carol, my go-to gals for all things dyeing, had ever made an indigo dyebath from fresh leaves. Nicely done, ladies!

Fair Hill Scottish Games

Saturday was the 50th Annual Fair Hill (Maryland) Scottish Games. The day was -- glorious!

Everywhere you looked there were men in kilts.

Nicely turned calves were in abundance.

As were nicely knitted kilt hose. My, my!

Nice socks, fella! Um, someone needs to take these lovely lads aside and explain to them that proper laddies always sit with their knees together.

I mean, seriously. The judging table for the pipe and drum bands was sitting right across from where our fiber guild was set up. So after watching each band perform, I and everyone else on that side of the field saw more manly thigh than some might deem seemly. All I can say is, thank goodness these guys were fully kitted up with their sporrans.

It was great to see so many women participating.

And girls, too.

The boys were fairly represented, too.

Hard work builds character!

Hey ... knees together, buddy.

Lots and lots of dogs attended, including this little heartbreaker. His owner very graciously allowed me to kiss his forehead and fondle his silky ears.

This is Corky, a highlands cow (I think that's the right name). He's a very sweet, placid guy, and his haircut reminds me of the one that Skimbleshanks sports. Well, to be fair, most of the 15-year-old boys wear their hair like this.

So, our fiber guild attended the games to demonstrate spinning and weaving. The loom was already prestrung as you see here. The small bobbins of grayish thread were spun by four of us throughout the day.

The finished piece, a shawl, was to be auctioned off to the highest bidder at 3:00 p.m.

Almost done!

And here it is. What a beautiful piece of fabric! Linda (holding it) was the highest bidder -- lucky her!

This is me, late in the day, spinning silk. (Photo credit: my big bruddah)

So, to recap, nice legs.

Drummers of all ages.

But all with the same intensity.

Except this guy. He was about the same size and shape as his drum, and he was rocking and rolling and having a grand time.

Pipers, too, were into the day. The guy second from the right was completely absorbed and paced throughout the tune.

So, as I wrap this up and say goodbye to the Scottish Games, I leave you with this image ...

Men in kilts ... le sigh!