Walking on A Cold November Day

One glance at the outside thermometer this morning had me shivering – and I was still indoors. A peek out the window confirmed the digital warning. It was +7F and glistening frost adhered to every surface. It did NOT look like the idea walking conditions in the cover photo!

Single digits. What an invigorating day for a walk! With some important things to think about and needing a little “me time”, a walk would provide both. And seriously, there’s no way to avoid winter when you live in Alaska.

Bolstered by a large mug of hot coffee, I considered my options. Even securely wrapped in fleecy winter coats, the Dachshunds were willing to venture just far enough out into the yard to do their “business”. 13-year-old Abby, with her thick, built-in winter coat, meandered a bit further, sniffing along the tree line for a few minutes before returning to the warm house. By the time Abby and I came back inside, Baxter and Ronni had claimed a bed in front of the wood stove. Yep, I said A bed. There ARE two beds side by side there, but both dogs much prefer this one. 😉 Here’s the look I got when I asked if they wanted to go back outside. Right.

After a second mug of coffee and no movement from the wood stove, I decided I was on my own and, abandoning the dogs to their hedonistic delights in front of the toasty fire, I dressed for the day and gathered my walking paraphernalia.

Layering seemed like the best option, so I started with lightly insulated leggings under comfortable jeans. A matching long-sleeved insulated base layer shirt fit under a comfy sweatshirt. Warm wool socks, hiking boots with good traction (it’s icy even just walking to the car, much less anyplace else!), gloves, scarf and a woolly knit hat completed the look. I gave the looong dogs one more chance – hey guys! Wanna go OUTSIDE?!? I got the whale-eye from both of them before they ran and hid under blankets. Mom wants us to do WHAT? It’s COLD out there! Nothin’ doing.

OK, fine. Back to planning my solo walk. Let’s see, what else did I need? Oh! Can’t walk for long without music … I strapped my canvas dog training pouch (empty of doggy treats this time) around my waist, added my Kindle (fits in the training pouch like it was made for it) and grabbed my headphones. Checking the exterior temps again, I was encouraged to see it had jumped to +16F. Oh boy. Picking up my purse, my bag of miscellaneous necessities and donning my down jacket, I headed out the door. Oh wait! Dang … I knew I’d forget something. Note to self. Remember to bring fingerless gloves so your hands can stay relatively warm while changing the music settings on the Kindle.

I paused for a moment to appreciate the view from the deck. Wow, there is something special about being outdoors in Alaska in the wintertime, isn’t there? The scenery is spectacular; the sky today is a gorgeous blue peeking through billowing clouds. The trees remain shrouded in frost. It is absolutely gorgeous.

Taking a deep breath, I exhale and watch my breath float off in a cold, misty cloud. Carefully stepping along the snow-covered path to avoid a possibly painful slip on the ice, I snug my woolly hat over already frost-reddened ears … and walk to my car. Beautiful it may be, but my driveway is WAY too icy for taking a walk. Moving on. Hey, without the dogs, my options are wide open.

A short five-minute drive later and I arrived at my favorite wintertime walking track. It only takes a minute to sign in, get my punch card punched and head upstairs. Yep, I said upstairs. 😊

Welcome to the Menard Sports Center in Wasilla, Alaska! In case you are wondering – YES, that is an ice rink in the middle of the cavernous building. The walking/jogging track follows the perimeter of the ice rink (volleyball courts in summer) and we often get to watch folks ice skating around the rink or local high school teams practicing hockey as we complete our laps high above them. The gloves, leggings and sweatshirt really ARE necessary – although it’s not as cold on the track as it is outside today, the temp is definitely nippy.

It is nice living near this great, multi-purpose complex – it is literally just a few miles down the road. There’s a clean, airy locker room just off the track where you can stash your coat, boots and other gear (locks are not included, but you are welcome to bring your own). Handy benches are perfectly situated for changing into mandatory (clean) track shoes. Inside the door to the track area, there are also open cubbies and coat hooks above benches for those who’d rather keep water bottles and belongings in sight while they walk.

Here are some views as I work my way around the track. There are inspirational sayings printed on the wall in several spots here, as well as downstairs in the multi-use areas. Wide windows along the upper level add natural light and a lovely view.

I usually start out with one lap at a warm-up pace, loosening up and relaxing. With a lap behind me, I drop into my habit of striding along the lower level stretch with arms swinging, power-walking up the incline, striding again along the upper level and jogging the downhill. I use the incline to work on my posture, tummy in, bending my elbows and keeping my shoulders back. Leaning slightly forward, I push for a fast walk. Keeping in mind, I’m almost 70 and trying to maintain some sort of decent condition – not training for a marathon. A fast walk for me is really not very fast. The same goes for “jogging”. I’ve honestly had a few men pass me at a walk while I’m jogging. But it gets my heart pumping and feels good, so it’s a win.

6.4 laps of the Menard track equal one mile, and as you can hopefully see in the photos, there are two longer level stretches, broken up by a mild incline on one end and a slight downhill stretch on the opposite. It makes for a nice, balanced walk of whatever length you want. My goal is to try for a two-mile walk, but there are days when one mile is more than enough. It’s more about getting out and being active.

A fun Menard Sports Center quirk; everyone walks clockwise on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and counter-clockwise on the alternate days. 😊 So today was a clockwise walk. They have the comfortable, rubberized track set up so there are two “lanes” to walk in, with passing areas and rest areas with benches at two of the rounded corners. Walkers are really good about moving over to allow faster-moving people to pass – it’s a friendly, low-key place.

Today was a fairly quiet day at the track, as I was hoping. A couple of young Moms were working a speed-walk behind a pair of baby strollers, several single walkers kept their own pace and one older man ambled slowly along, smiling and humming to a tune in his headset. He may not have been going very fast (I passed him twice), but he was there when I starting walking and was still moving along when I left the track.

Some days Jerry accompanies me to the center. If he gets tired of walking, there is usually someone to talk to or other activities to watch. We seldom walk together, but it’s nice to see him out there, even if we just wave or touch hands when one of us passes the other. I know there are days when Jerry goes by himself, too. Some days one of my girlfriends come along – that is always fun. It’s nice at times to simply walk and talk, without any other agenda. A walk is a walk.

This particular November day I’d come alone though, and I was content with keeping my own thoughts. It’s almost Thanksgiving and the holidays are looming closer. I struggle not to close down emotionally during the holidays, being so far from most of my family. My Mom passed away just days before Christmas two years ago, and that weighs on my heart this time of year, too. Walking helps me to stay on an even keel on days when I’m otherwise tempted to sit home and brood.

This year, I had very much wanted and planned to head to Oregon around Christmas time and am really disappointed not to be able to go. I first thought to make the trip down in late fall, driving my RV with the idea of leaving it at my son’s home for the winter, but just couldn’t get my ducks in a row for that. So, I thought, I will fly down for Christmas. It all seemed pretty doable … in September.

I knew I would have a couple of weeks off work (no Nose Work classes or practices scheduled over the Christmas break) and it seemed like the perfect time for a trip to see kids and grandkids (and great-grandkids). I figured Christmas was my best chance at seeing most if not all of them in one trip too. Sadly, with my rose-colored glasses firmly in place; I had been thinking and planning “Christmas” without really thinking “Winter”. Sigh. It’s a long way from Portland, OR to Madras, OR – over a mountain pass – in winter. I needed to be able to fly into the smaller Redmond, OR, airport on the east side of the mountains … and that commuter hop nearly doubled the cost over flying in and out from Portland. Adding that to the already higher airfare over the holidays and it put it firmly out of my reach. I’ll get to OR (and to WI, too!), but it won’t be this Christmas. ☹

In the meantime, I’ll keep walking. I sure wish they allowed dogs at the Menard Center.

“Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time.” ― Steven Wright.

The story behind the yarn, Part 2

As the saying goes; “And now, for the rest of the story!”

Let’s go back and start at the very beginning so that you can follow from inception to completion one of my more recent creations – and one of my favorites (so far). I call this yarn “Sky Blue Pink Turning Yellow in the Moonlight”. Quite a mouthful, I know, but it evokes warm memories of my late Mother-In-Law, Bobbie, as well as describing some of the truly spectacular sunsets we are privileged to witness here in Alaska. Of course, in the end I took quite a bit of “artistic license” in my interpretation, since I also wanted a yarn that would spin up nicely into something pretty.

My M-I-L, Bobbie Frost, had a special term, fondly remembered by her family, applied only to the most gorgeous of sunsets – no matter what colors they actually were. I first heard the term when Jerry’s parents were in Alaska visiting us back in the late summer of 2004.

The sky overhead was finally darkening towards night that August, a few stars already twinkling over the mountains far to the east. To the west of our hillside home, Mother Nature and the setting sun was putting on a brilliant show! We stood on our back deck, delaying bedtime to watch the sky through and above the darkly silhouetted wood-line to the west. Sunsets in Alaska this time of year arrive late and can be a long, slow dance, changing from minute to minute. You can literally have night falling on one side of the sky and the blue sky of the fading day still clearly visible on the other. When these awesome sunsets occur, you don’t want to miss a thing!

Here are a couple of examples of sunsets as viewed from our deck … not nearly a wide enough variety to do justice – nor do I have a good enough camera to capture sunsets to best effect. But it should give you an idea.

Sunset from our back deck, Meadow Lakes, Alaska

These neon orange, salmon and bruised purple sunsets are some of the most spectacular (again, a better camera would have been great!). If you look closely at the top of the photo, you can see the edge of blue sky above the clouds. The sky above the sunset was still very much blue, fading into twilight as your eyes scanned further east. My photos were focusing on the sunset, so were cropped for best “sunset effect”.

Another gorgeous sunset from Meadow Lakes, Alaska

The shot (above) shows a lot of the salmons and pinks, but not quite enough of the contrasting blue sky I so vividly recall from the gorgeous sunset that special August.

And speaking of jaw dropping (and off-topic); this winter sunrise, captured in mid-December many years ago, may yet turn into a yarn. 😊 Can you just imagine it?

Mid-December sunrise behind my small, cosy goat barn, winter 2008

Anyway, on that particular August evening, after a lovely blue summer day, we had clouds gathering on the horizon for a coming storm. The setting sun reflected off of them in moody and vibrant waves of purple, lavender and pink changing to salmon and neon orange as the sun lowered. The blue sky still held sway above the clouds, the sun still defiantly sending bright beams of yellow spearing through the trees below our house. The blue sky gleamed between the clouds for the longest time, refusing to give way to the storm OR the night. Alaska truly does have wonderful, LONG summer days with abundant sunshine. Gotta love it!

As twilight finally overcame the last of the glowing sunset, touches of deep red streaked through the pinks and yellows still visible along the treetops. With a sigh, Jerry’s Mom summed it all up. She said, “That was probably the very best ‘sky blue pink turning yellow in the moonlight’ that I’ve ever seen!” Well said, Mom.

That fond memory of precious days spent here in Alaska visiting with Jerry’s parents, George and Bobbie, and sister, Shannon, live on. More precious now, since both Mom & Dad Frost have passed. Pretty much every time Jer and I see a particularly brilliant sunset, one of us will smile and say, “Look! It’s a “sky blue pink turning yellow in the moonlight”! No matter what color the sunset actually is. 😉

“Sky blue pink turning yellow in the moonlight”; this particular sunset shot reminds ME of the term Bobbie used, even though it really wasn’t what it looked like the night she was here!

So, earlier this year, this memory spoke to me again, begging to be recreated in a vibrant, Alaskan sunset yarn. I started gathering fibers from my existing stash. This would definitely be a blended-fiber yarn, as the colors already on hand included hand-dyed sheep’s wool of indeterminate origin, luscious alpaca, some fine Merino wool blended with silk, BFL (Blue-faced Leicester sheep and one of my favorite wools to spin) Shetland and Cashmere (Angora goat). Oh my. I decided to just call this an “Art Yarn” and see how it spun up. There are times when it really IS all about the art.

I gave a lot of thought to what foundation color I wanted the yarn to carry throughout. I’m not a real big fan of orange, so although orange and salmon play a major role in many sunsets, I knew I wanted to use them more sparingly in the yarn. I mean, if you look UP, there is an entire SKY up there – the sunset is only the highlight. So, I wanted the sunset to stand out, but not overwhelm the other colors. My foundation for this yarn would be sky blue.

Having made that decision, it was time to dig through my fiber stash and see what called out to me.

Rovings from my stash … this might just work!

Hmm … good start! I had the blue sky and clouds in one lovely hand-dyed roving, most of the sunset shades, the tree-line and the midnight sky. I was pretty sure I still had some of the sunny yellow fiber used in the bobbin of yellow in the photo. I had only to keep digging! Of course, some of these colors would only need the lightest of touches, like the midnight blue and the natural taupe used to indicate the tree-line. And although I really wanted to add the silver gray of the storm clouds, I needed to balance the ‘idea’ of storm clouds with what needed to overall be a brighter yarn. So, not too much gray. 😉

Sometimes laying all the colors side by side is the best way (for me) to start pulling the picture together to envision the finished yarn. OK, definitely more light and bright blues, way less midnight blue. I was already seeing the overall yarn as having a sky-blue foundation and building the ‘sunset’ off of that. Maybe more pink and salmon, less red, although I sure wanted touches of red, remembered from the last rays of that fading sunset. More yellow, less gray. Getting there!

At this point, I started pulling long strips of colors free from the individual rovings and batts, twisting them together in a hank to give myself a better idea of how they might look in the finished, plied yarn. Can you see the sunset starting to form in the sky? No, not yet?

How about NOW?

The progression of stretching and blending of various colors

As I worked the colors together in my hands, adding color here, taking a little out there, inspiration struck (for better or worse) and I decided I didn’t want to use the carding machine to finish blending these colors. Call it artistic license or gut instinct. I wanted the randomness of the original sunset, with the blue sky, the night sky, the storm clouds … all setting off the sunset itself – without blurring the colors. How best to recreate that mood?

I chose to combine the colors together by hand until I had the balance that struck me as right, twisted it into one large roll, then pulled and stretched the entire mass out longer and longer until I had one long, continuous fiber-snake spread across the sofa. It was about 5’ long – and you can bet I had both Dachshunds kenneled at this point. The last thing I needed was one of the dogs deciding they were going to romp through this fluffy, colorful pile of fiber!

Finally satisfied with the finished fiber batt, it was almost time to spin! I gently divided the long, thick batt into four equal lengths, about 15” long each, then folded and re-stretched each one into smaller, more manageable lengths and stored three of them in plastic bags to safely await their turn on the wheel.

I know, right? Spinning is my favorite part of the entire process and it’s taken me this long to get to the fun part? Anticipation is half the fun, I kept telling myself. An idea doesn’t always take this long to come together, but seriously, I was having a blast at this point and felt it was worth the extra time. Let me know what you think. This was the first bobbin, just started on the wheel. Sunset!

SUNSET!
Bobbin #2 … more sunset!

Bobbin number two, not quite half way complete. As I spun the ‘singles’ (remember, it takes three full bobbins of single ply yarn before you can then ply them together to create a finished 3-ply yarn), watching the sunset unfolding before my eyes, I suddenly knew that there was going to be yet another necessary step …

I was achieving my spinning goal of nice sections of brilliant, undiluted sunset shades; pink, lavender, orange, salmon and yellow, with pops of red, gray and midnight blue, but I’m already thinking ahead to the finished yarn. Although I used a higher percentage of blues in proportion to the other colors, I felt it was lacking overall cohesion. My vision was for a stronger foundation color flowing throughout, with the sunset shades standing out as highlights.

I suddenly knew what was missing, and I realized I had just the right solution! Back to my fiber stash I dashed, digging for a bag of already blended roving intended, originally, to be spun as a stand-alone yarn. It would’ve been pretty too. When I first bought the 8-ounce roving from Paradise Fibers (www.paradisefibers.com; a great online resource), I’d planned to spin it up into a 2-ply yarn and knit a hat and matching gloves. The mostly sky-blue wool (80% fine Merino, 20% silk) was already blended with muted pinks and yellows that would complement my bright sunset tones. It would be the link I needed to pull the picture together. I set back to spinning – this time a full bobbin of just the pale sky blue.

The sky-blue roving up against my sunset bobbins
Here’s Rhonda, supervising my spinning in the RV
‘Singles’ loaded on the Lazy Kate.

The photo above shows the three bobbins of single ply yarn (referred to a ‘singles’) on my Lazy Kate; two bobbins of “sunset” and one bobbin of “blue-sky” – in the process of being plyed together for the three completed skeins of 3-ply yarn.

Completed yarn – ready to be made into skeins

Spinning is exhausting to watch – just ask Rhonda. 😉

And here is the finished project; a bouncy 3-ply worsted-weight yarn. If you look closely (zoom in if you need to), you’ll see that although the other colors come and go randomly, there’s a twist of sky blue included along the entire length of the yarn. This should make for a lovely, balanced yarn for a scarf, smoke-ring, hat, gloves or whatever it ends up wanting to become. My part in its creation is done. 🙂

Thank you for joining me on this journey through the creation of a unique hand-spun yarn. I hope you enjoyed the ride! I certainly enjoyed sharing it with you. Please feel free to comment or ask questions, “Like” my post and, if you want to hear more stories, subscribe to my blog. Have a great Thanksgiving, everyone!

Call it a tale, a story or spinning a yarn …

Oh wait! I am spinning a yarn! I’d like to share the stories behind a few of the more interesting hand-spun yarns I’ve enjoyed creating.

Deb, spinning at a campground in Alaska, summer 2019

I spin a lot of yarn that is just that – beautiful, soft, fuzzy, bouncy, or lustrous – yarn meant to be used to create fun or beautiful clothing accessories or perhaps for some other artistic purpose. I spin colors that appeal to me and spin fibers that feel wonderful in my hands; various sheep’s wool, alpaca, llama, cashmere or pygora goat, silk, qiviut, bamboo and more. I love blending various fibers into yarns that embrace what I see as the best qualities of each.

Having raised sheep and goats for many years; creating clean, smooth, spinnable fiber from my own raw sheep’s fleece or the downy undercoat from my goats … and yes, even my long-haired dogs, although time-intensive, is satisfying almost beyond belief.

Jolene and Nelson; coated to keep their valuable fleece clean!
“Yarn”, my Pygora kid
Gypsy, Yarn, Silver & LGD Journey
Some of my favorite “fiber critters”

I love natural (undyed) shades and do spin these quite a bit, but I also enjoy spinning up colorful yarns, which leads me down the path of hand-dyed fiber. I think that topic may be an entirely different blog post at some point. Pots and tubs of hot water, vinegar, natural or store-bought dyes, rubber gloves, yards of counter or table space, plastic wrap, drying racks … Oh my! I’ve done my share of hand-dying and do enjoy the creative process, but it’s often an all-day endeavor and to be honest – I’d rather be spinning.

Fortunately, there are lots of folks who enjoy the process of dying wool and other fibers as much if not more than creating yarn, and I lean heavily on those folks, both locally and online, for many of the colors I want when I’m looking to create a unique yarn that lives (up until then) only in my head.

On the other hand, if I find a color (or have some in my stash) that is close but not exactly what I need to create a certain shade; perhaps it’s a little too light or too dark, or the green needs to be a little more yellow or the blue needs a touch of purple to be just right, I pull out one of my manual carding machines and blend colors until I have just what I see in my head. It’s a wonderfully creative process and quite fulfilling in itself.

The drum carder (see photo) is also the means I often use of combining a variety of colors together if a blended yarn is what I am after. Depending on how many times you feed the fiber through the tines of the carder, you can achieve large blocks of color side by side in a batt, or you can continue to divide and blend so that the colors intertwine and overlap, making for a wonderful tweedy affect or changing the color entirely. Example; red and yellow = orange. Blue and red = purple!

Blending wool on a drum carder using a hand-forged doffer tool

The hand tool I’m using here to remove the partially blended wool from my carder is called a doffer. This particular doffer was hand-crafted by my husband Jerry. This doffer was created from hand-forged metal, very much like those used in earlier eras. Jerry crafted quite a few individualized doffers the summer of 2009, with personalized handles and specific curve dimensions, for the local fiber arts community here in Alaska.

Hopefully, it’s becoming easier to see why each batch of finished yarn from my spinning wheel is unique. I can make up multiple batts, using these blending methods or others, but once complete and ready to spin, these batts dictate the total number of skeins for this particular colorway. They would be difficult to duplicate.

Sadly, Jer’s accident and resultant TBI occurred the day after I returned from the overnight spinning retreat where those beautiful hand-forged doffers were sold (thank goodness I was home). They are treasured, I am sure, by the fiber artists and spinners who own them, but it’s unlikely there will be any more made.

But back to my yarn … I mean, my story. 😉 I am mostly what is referred to as a “process spinner” (someone who spins for the joy of spinning and creating unique yarns) as opposed to a “project spinner” (someone who spins to create yarn for a specific project they already have in mind). Many spinners, admittedly, are a little bit of both.

Hand-spun, 2-phy yarn inspired by a summer lake

My favorite yarns are the unique, one of a kind yarns inspired by something that has caught my eye. As an example; the blue-green yarn shown above was inspired by the sight of sunlight glinting off the varied blues of a brilliant forest lake, surrounded by mossy banks. Small green frogs plopping off lily pads near the shore caused ripples in the lake surface, setting the lake shore to dancing with light and motion.

For me at least, the inspiration for a new colorway often comes from nature; a scenic view, sunrise or sunset in some new location, unique rock or cloud formations, a change in the weather, the way water foams icy green over boulders in an Alaskan mountain stream.

When I first started traveling by RV, I used to think, “Oh, those colors would look beautiful as yarn”, only to forget all but the overall impression of beauty by the time I was ready to stop for the day. Frustrating!

Then one day, I was looking through some photos I’d shot during an overnight camping trip, thinking to share a few of them on Facebook, when I came across one shot and immediately thought – THIS would be a lovely yarn! I know, I know … not exactly most people’s first thought at looking at a photo – even a really pretty photo. But there it was; all the colors, shades and even the mood preserved exactly as they were at the moment I snapped the picture. THIS I could work with!

This particular shot (below) was taken as dusk was falling in mid-October at a camping spot I’d found along a quiet stretch overlooking Cook Inlet and the Chugach mountain range in south-central Alaska. Reimagining colors and images, feelings if you will, from a photograph into a yarn that evokes those colors and mood – that is where I find some of my most creative fulfillment.

Cook Inlet and the Chugach mountain range at dusk, October 2018

Here is the yarn I created, using that Cook Inlet photo as my inspiration:

As you can [hopefully] see, the end product is interpretive. It’s not meant to be an exact duplicate of each and every color found in the photograph, but more a pleasing yarn that evokes the feel of that evening overlooking Cook Inlet and is also a yarn that someone would enjoy knitting or crocheting with and creating something beautiful themselves. This bouncy two-ply sport-weight yarn was made from a combination of two sheep’s wools (dyed various colors); Blue-faced Leicester and Merino, blended with a small amount of silk. Both wools are soft and smooth and should give the finished product a huggable appeal.

Oh my … as usual, when I get to ‘talking’, I’ve indeed rambled on way longer than I’d planned. Let’s divide this story up and leave the tale of starting another nature-inspired yarn from inception through choosing and blending the colors, all the way through to spinning and plying the completed yarn for “Call It A Tale, Part Two”. I think you’ll enjoy the accompanying photos. Coming soon!

Thanks for joining me! If you liked this story, please click on the little “thumbs up” at the bottom of the page, click SUBSCRIBE to be notified when new blog entries are added and as always, feel free to leave a comment!

What a difference a day makes!

In my last post, Ronni and I were enjoying a late fall day; golden leaves lightly encrusted in a thin layer of ice underfoot, rustling, wheaten-colored grasses and underbrush beckoning to my little dachshund – surely there were rabbits or at least MICE hiding within! We enjoyed a morning of romping through the tall (to a dachshund), dry grass and bushes, following scents carried by the brisk breeze and generally having a good time.

The next morning …..

By the end of the day, we had easily a whopping 12″ of fresh snow. The dachshunds have been running around in the driveway, following crisscrossing tire tracks as if they were little roads plowed in the snow just for them. Trees (and everything else in the yard) were draped and flocked in fresh, shiny white garments and there was more snow in the forecast. I’m guessing Jer will be brushing off the snow plow and attaching it to our pick-up truck shortly. 😉

On the bright side; as often happens, a major change to the view out my window, whether it be due to RV travel or a simple change in the weather, has my creative juices flowing! The pictures below have inspired me to create a new yarn colorway.

I think I may just name it “1st Snowfall”. I’ll need to dig through my fiber stash to see if I have the right colors for blending, and then drag down my Pat Green carder.

Oh my … I can already see it in my head. It’ll have to have a base of very soft, pale icy-blue wool, a little brighter sky blue, plus both bright white and silvery-gray glints of silk.

Added to that (maybe blended separately then added in by hand), there must be pale pinks, hints of yellow sunlight, streaks of salmon-pink and lavender. Then there is the winter forest to consider; I’m thinking faint indications throughout of dark spruce green and a couple of deep brown shades. They will help to add depth and contrast to the yarn.

Since I want the overall yarn to be light and wintery, the darker touches will be just visible enough to be peeking out here and there – just an indication, not a strong, noticeable color. A yarn like this is meant to be interpretive rather than painting a picture. But ohh … I do love when a photo calls to me like this.

Sigh. And just as well I have something fun to inspire me right now. It’s obviously going to be a while before I can hit the road again.