Here is my latest blog post on the Vidunas line.
”Which makes me wonder if I’m going to need my spinning wheel when I’m dead. I wonder if there is a mortuary anywhere in America that would bury it with me. I’m also wondering what fiber from my fiber stash I should take into my grave when I go. Maybe I should take it all. Life is short but the afterlife is really, really long isn’t it? Yeah, I think I’d better take all of it just to be safe.”
Trying grilled radishes for the first time. They are good fried. They are good baked. They are good on a stew. Use the same way you would potatoes, but they don’t spike your blood sugar like taters do.
I cleaned them, sprayed with coconut oil and put the basket on the grill.
They kept their color, but the flavor was changed. It was interesting, different. I cooked up Two bunches which was too much for the two of us. I will do it again.
This is how I keep track of my colors. I am not organized enough to keep colour cards. I tried years ago, but lost them. Country Classics has commercial color cards, but I find them inadequate for some reason. So, I started putting a same of MY yarn around the bottle. Now I can more accurately guess what colors I need.
Guess which song is in my head?
This is my first attempt at fermented suint to clean raw wool. The idea is to soak the untreated raw wool in plain water, letting bacterial fermentation scour the grease out. The wool is to sit in the water, the first batch for about a week, the rest is done in about 3-4 days. It is supposed to get stinky, similar to the earthy barnyard stench. Then, take the wool out, rinse with the house and let it dry in the sun. The residual odor dissipates and is gone by the time it dries.
This batch is baby Icelandic lamb moorit coloring. I like the idea of minimal handling for two reasons. The first is that my hands can’t handle all that squeezing. The other reason is that I think it should be much gentler to alpaca and fragile fleeces.
The funny thing is that twenty years ago, I thought about soaking wool in water for extended amount of time. I didn’t know about getting the grease out. I thought it might be a way to essentially “rot” the vegetable matter out. I don’t know.
My scale must have lied to me. For a week. I didn’t feel any different, but I keep almost daily track of my weight. I know some women are obsessed in an unhealthy way, and weigh once a month. When I did that myself, I found I felt great but I had gained back everything I’d lost and took two months to get back to the new starting point. When I weigh almost daily, I can easily relate any weight gain with eating habits, like this bag of potato chips I really want to finish off.
So far, I’ve been busy blogging, not munching.
But my weight it’s Now thirty pounds off. That’s more than a sack of potatoes. That’s a one-year-old child. I’ve decided that my weight loss is best described by a term I’ll steal from evolutionary biology – Punctuated Equilibrium. Things are all the same for two or three months then BAM!, five pounds gone. Everything is once again the same for four months then SHAZAM!, ten pounds gone.
This Trim Healthy Gramma wants new clothes for every five pounds gone. I am overdue for six items of clothing.
The disappearing Gramma! Started January, 7 months mostly on plan, 31 weeks. Just about a pound per week.