No canning this year for me. My apricot tree had only a few fruits, and those were eaten out of hand. My neighbor gave me a bucket of apricots, and they too just got gobbled up. Peaches are also pretty sparse, so the canning stuff will all just stay where it is this year.

However, I have another tale. One of the old nursery rhymes talks about “three bags full,” and they were, of course, bags of fleece. In this case, it was only one bag, but quite a large bag at that. A spinner friend in Salt Lake City visited a mutual spinner friend in Colorado, bringing her this bag of fleece. She brought the bag to me here in Moab and it has sat around in various homes and closets for several years.

The thought behind bringing this fleece to Moab was that we spinners here might want to embark on some dyeing.

Now well aged, the bag of fleece finally got put to use (well, part of it – part still resides in closets here and there) when it was decided to hold a dye day. One of the ladies has a large supply of dyes, and also a home that lends itself to group activity. So we gathered there, and after a few hours of none-too-deliberate (means we didn’t make notes on what we did) alchemy, had wool in brilliant tones of red, blue, green, gold, purple and shades and tints in between. Turquoise is a notable color for being hard to produce, but we did it. Now the several of us who participated have a rainbow of colors, nothing of an amount to make much of anything, so I am exploring the ways in which I can show off this riot in a finished product.

Meanwhile, my big project from last year will be in consideration for a ribbon at the state fair, and I have finished a couple of smaller items. At the retreat in Park City last month, there was a vest I would very much like to replicate, so I am trying to track the pattern down. This won’t do for the rainbow yarns, but I have some red and some purple yarns already spun and aging properly in baskets, waiting. Waiting.

–aft–

Monsoons happen in Malaysia and parts close by there. People may call them monsoons here, but to me they are the much-awaited and welcome late summer rains. I don’t care so much for the resultant humidity, but then Mother Nature didn’t ask for my opinion. Some late-emerging volunteer marigolds by the front step are going to bloom as a result. They, and other volunteer flowers look nice out in front, so I am glad Monasanto hasn’t been entirely successful in creating plants that won’t reproduce themselves.