May 30, 2011

Wee Wild Woolies


     5 am.  The fog rolls in from the ocean.  So thick you can hardly see past the shoreline.  It brings a deep quiet, muffling the sound of waves on the shore, the cries of the gulls, and the distant baaing of sheep.  You know they are out there, but they are hard to see.  White on fog.  It's lambing time on the island.  The weather can be a bit nasty in May (especially this year).  It's the cold rainy days when you have to be extra vigilant, tromping over hill and dale all day in the rain, keeping watch.


      Usually lambs are born without incident or fanfare.  While wondering the island you come upon new born lambs tucked behind a knoll or standing on wobbly legs under mom's watchful care.


But sometimes you come upon a frantic pacing ewe and a lamb unable to get up because it's too wet and cold.  Tucking the lamb inside your rain coat you make note of the ewe and where you found the lamb and head back to camp.  A box on the open wood stove oven door serves as a warming hut for cold lambs.  A few hours (sometimes over night) and some warm lamb formula usually brings them around.  Always a miracle.


     With any luck, by mid-afternoon the rain stops and the sun begins to burn through the fog as you head back out in search of the ewe that will claim the bleating lamb in your arms.  Fortunately, the ewes usually tend to stay in the same area where their lamb was born so you don't have to search the entire island.


     But which one of the hundred white ewes on the hillside is the right one?  You slowly move toward the ewes and when you're just close enough you set down the lamb and scurry and hide (the lamb's have a tendency to follow you).  Abandoned on the hillside the lamb will begin to blat a piteous cry.  A short ways off a grass munching ewe will pick up her head and baa in answer.  Calling back and forth they slowly work their way towards each other (cue the violins) until little tail wagging lamb finds ewe.
 

     Another rounding of the island as evening descends and you take a moment to listen to the ocean and watch the antics of gangs of wee wild woolies banded together for a game of 'king of the hummock' or 'catch me if you can' while mom ewes munch grass nearby.


     Tuckered out lambs snuggle beside ewes at the end of day ....


    as the fog rolls back in from the sea.

Jan 21, 2011

Cabin Fever Colors

 

 The third blizzard of the season is howling and swirling outside my window, covering the panes with lace and enveloping me in a cocoon of white. I'm cozy inside by the fire, deep in the dye pots, conjuring memories of clear blue skies, undulating green seaweed, and beach gleanings of deep purple mussel shells, pale green urchins, and turquoise sea glass.  And from the dye pots have come the NEW 2011 Starcroft COLORS!
Some rejuvenated old favorites and some exciting new additions.  Here's a peek... 


Osier - deep cranberry red, Lobster Bake - dark orange/red, Acorn - intense autumn gold, Larch - soft pale yellow, Urchin - pale green, Seaweed - deep yellow/green, Sea Glass - light turquoise, Clear Skies - bright blue, Raven - deep navy black/blue, Cove - soft fog gray, Whelk - deep red/purple, Mussel Shell - dark purple/navy, and Pine Cone - deep brown.

I just couldn't decide which color to knit with first, so of course I decided to use them all.  This is a fair isle vest in progress....

Oct 22, 2010

Autumn Inspirations

It's that time of year.

Wonderful little color moments everywhere.

Divine inspirations.

A simple walk in the woods on a crisp day inspires a new project.