And that’s why they call it the blues

Sometimes I find that all the little things that occupy my tiny creative sphere start to take on a theme and work in harmony with each other. I sat my current spinning down alongside the yarn I had just balled to begin a new project with and went out to clear my mind and indulge in the ever-relaxing pursuit of duck feeding. Luckily the canal is a literal stone’s throw away and the lively quacking sounds from the water assured me that there was a large contingent of flappy-beaked bred eaters in attendance.

When I returned back to the warmth and comforts of indoors I lay Mooncalf’s mitts down whilst I removed the rest of my outdoors gear and returned to notice just how well they looked alongside all of the other fibre treats I have been working on.

The cool greens and blues with the subtle range of greys all seem to be part of what I am taking comfort in at the moment. I am not always drawn to these cool colours, but at the moment their gentle hues seem to be an antidote to the fiery business of everything else I have been working on, and an answer to the hot pinks and spicy oranges of recent projects. Spinning the gentle green kid mohair feels calming. Even winding the subtle blue-grey Louisa Harding Grace hand-dyed yarn (which Mooncalf handily informed me goes by the delightful name of ‘pigeon’, a city wise bird with an air of irreverence – I have respect for pigeons) bought me joy with the promise of projects yet to be devised.

This yarn from Vivianne looks and feels scrummy. It’s smooth and cool. A glossy single ply with the occasional slub. being a hand-dyed yarn there are variations from skein to skein. One of the two I have has a lot more turquoise/blue than the other, and the yarn tells you to alternate stripes from two or more skeins to avoid obvious changes from skein to skein. The skein with the lesser amount of blue also only has any blue in one half of the skein. As I was winding the yarn into balls the second half of one of the balls was only shades of grey for at least half its length, but such things are the nature and part of the charm of hand dyed yarns, and perhaps something to work with rather than fight against.