fibergarden

I’m reading the most amazing book, borrowed from good friend-mentor-mama-midwife Susan–her SIGNED copy (what faith she must have in me to allow me to borrow it, yes??). Joan Dye Gussow’s “This Organic Life, Confessions of a Suburban Homesteader”. This passage put a smile on my face and a tear in my eye:

“A week after Halloween this year, I went out and picked raspberries to put on morning cereal, an act that seems nothing short of erotic in November. I have remarked to friends more than once over the years that I am often trapped between personal happiness and existential grief. I mourn for the rapid decline of the natural world–to which I am deeply bound. At the same time, I experience irrepressible joy in tending to and eating from that part of the natural world to which I have bound myself.”

After reading this book (not finished yet), I vow that we will do our best to fill the veggie garden beds this year. We have neglected our front yard (to the disgust of the neighbors, I’m sure). We’ve slowly worked on shrub and perennial borders on the East edge of our 50×184 foot plot in the back, with some success. But our vegetable garden was painstakingly designed, laid out carefully and built from the very beginning of owning this house. It is a fantastic part of the yard that can only be improved upon by fully utilizing the space therein–something we have failde to do in recent years. Two years ago, good friends Dan and Cindy sent us a packet of Soybeans (edamame) which I still have sitting here. I failed to plant them, thinking that I couldn’t devote enough room in my suburban plot to the crop to make it worth planting, especially in beds that I already had plans for. We then proceeded to leave nearly half of our raised beds fallow for that season, a fact that made me feel guilty on so many levels.

So spring of 2007 is coming. We proceed with garden plans, purchase seeds, decide what plants to buy from the local garden center, what to start from scratch, and order blueberry plants to fill in our last edge space in the ‘produce’ area. In the 2006 fall/winter that was unseasonably warm (one that most of us believe was caused by the climate change that allows raspberries to be eaten in NY in November), Craig made excellent progress preparing all the beds with fresh compost that will be ready to turn in when the time comes, so we are ahead of the game. It will be my job to get things planted, as he promised to help weed and harvest this year. With our desire for locally grown, organic food, and newfound knowledge and interest, we push ahead.

Wish us luck. Now go buy some seeds, join a CSA (www.localharvest.org), go to your farmer’s market, and support LOCAL food. It’s critical to the sustenance of the earth.

On a recent busy day (aren’t they all busy days?), my tasks at hand made me chuckle to myself while repeating this classic line from the 80’s in my head over and over (if you’re too young to recognize it, you’re on your own).

Task #1: In the bathroom sink I had two wool diaper covers soaking to lanolize. That’s the process where you dissolve a bit of lanolin into hot water and soak the wool covers, making them extremely water resistant. You can watch a great video clip about lanolizing diaper covers here if you’re interested.

Task #2: In the kitchen I was working on a Navajo-Churro fleece that I recently purchased from Flint Run Farm in OH. Part of the fleece was soaking in detergent, trying to remove the lanolin and dirt from it. If you’re interested in a great tutorial on this process, check HJS Studio out.

As you can imagine (if you’re into both washing raw wool and cloth diapering, which probably eliminates most people I know, heh heh), I couldn’t help thinking that I should be able to integrate this process somehow, so I could do both things at once. Wash the fleece, then soak the diaper covers in the resulting greasy, lanolin-filled water. Of course, the result of that process would probably mean that my little baby’s bum would smell like a wet, dirty sheep, so I think I’ll pass this time around. Really, the title of this should be “grease on….grease off”, shouldn’t it?

As you can see in the photo above, the fleece that I finished washing turned out beautifully. It was shorn from a sheep named Faith, and it’s really gorgeous, virtually free of vegetation and much softer than I had envisioned for the breed. This is my first time working with a Navajo-Churro fleece, I bought it sight unseen (somewhat of a risky proposition) and I’m thrilled with how the cleaned/dyed fiber is looking and feeling. In the pic is shown about a pound: half of it I left white and the rest is dyed in rose and purply tones. Just gorgeous–I can’t wait to card it and spin it up!