Pre-ordered hops

Inspired, largely, by this manual *, and by my co-workers' continuing homebrewing successes, I've pre-ordered 6 rhizomes of "cascade" hops. My plan is to include small-scale hop production on the farm, producing more-or-less specifically for my coworkers' brewing needs. I'm convinced it will fit smoothly with the planned farm operations, adding another diversified income source. If production ultimately exceeds my coworkers' demand - which I expect will take several years - I hope to take my excess to local homebrew suppliers. I'm also generally  supportive of the whole concept of hop pillows, both for my own use and for sale. Maybe with lavender? Mugwort?

Hops made NY,  and NY can still grow hops. I can't see a market for buckwheat, which historically was grown in some quantity on this farm, but hops should do just fine and will certainly sell. While I don't brew, I'm certainly eager to try growing some of the older and less-common varieties of hops in the coming years, if my market base is amenable.

(I'm really trying not to look at how easy it would be to make small batches of malt to order. Almost absurdly so. Just.... not this year, guys. Ok??)

So, yeah. The upshot is that there will be organic (because, really: why not?) hops produced on the farm starting this summer. I've heard the first year's harvest is usually pretty small, but that suits me just fine - I've got my plate kinda full this year. I need to refine my trellis design a little, but I'm excited.

This coming week marks the start of Cornell's Northeast Beginning Farmer class, "What Do I Need to Do to Start a Farm Business?" (BF103). I imagine in a week or two I'll have something interesting to say about it. Also, the yak is spinning up nicely, but slowly. Pics will take awhile.


*Oh, who am I kidding? Really I'm being heavily influenced - in this as in all things - by Fred Gee's In a Place Called Chenango. I've never forgotten his song about Coy's hop farm in Smyrna. Actually, I don't think I've ever forgotten any of his songs - I've been his biggest fan since he came to sing at Oxford Academy & Central Schools for our local history unit in 4th grade, and again for Oxford's bicentennial (uhm... 6th grade?). Mr. Gee, if you're still out there, you're probably why I'm an archaeologist.

Spring is coming...

No, really, I'm certain spring is on its way. We had two days in the 60s, and even though it's back down into the 20s here, it just looks like early spring. See?

From my back window

The Vine Maple is done! Here it is as singles on my lazy kate:

And then as a plied and set yarn, hanging to dry:

Somehow I managed to not take any pictures of the intervening process! (Possibly this is because I was watching Ghost Hunters to pass the time plying and setting, and totally forgot that I had wanted pics...). Essentially, once the yarn is plied I wind it off the bobbin into skeins on a niddy-noddy, then use some waste yarn (white crochet cotton in this case) to tie it loosely. The skeins go into a warm bath with a little dish detergent, sit for 20 minutes or so, then I pull them out and change the water. In this case the water was bright orange with excess dye so I did another bath with soap. After 20 minutes the water was again orange, but less so. The next bath used a good solid glug of vinegar instead of soap, and the water was very lightly tinted orange after about half an hour. Finally, I let the the yarn sit in a bath with a few drops of Eucalan for about half an hour - I would have gone longer if I could have spared the sink that long - and there was no noticeable tint to the water. After each bath, I squeezed out the excess water and gave the skein a few snaps to help keep the strands in order. When it was all done, I hung them to dry from some over-the-door coat hooks in my hallway, with a towel underneath for the inevitable dripping.

All told, there's almost exactly 500yds here: my conservative counts on the skeins are 272yds and 228yds, respectively. It's just about exactly the right wpi, and it's soft and sturdy. I'm very pleased with how it turned out!

I've already moved on to my next spinning project: yak down! I managed to score 8oz of light brown yak down from Paradise Fibers' bargain bin for $24 back in September (if that seems like a lot, consider that purchasing 1oz of yak down from Bijou Basin will set you back $24 all by its lonesome, so this is like getting 7oz free, or saving $168). I'm spinning it up at what will, I hope, be a 2-ply fingering weight, for some as-yet-undecided decadent knitting project in the future. With 8oz I could probably even make a sweater if so inclined, so I'm keeping my options open. Whatever it is, it will be lacy, because yak down is warm and soft.

I couldn't capture the color to save my life - it's actually brown, sort of cafe-au-lait color.

Yak down is a little intense to spin. I already favor the short-draw draft, which is good, because this flat out requires it. Rule-of-thumb for drafting is that you don't let the drafting triangle get longer than half the fiber length. Well, here's a pic of a bit of this yak fluff - there's really not much there to work with!

Stretched out, though, that fluff's well over an inch long - it's really quite elastic.

Drafting triangle? What drafting triangle??

Fresh out of the bag, a formless mass of yakky goodness.

It comes as a sort of soft, airy mass - no direction or anything, just handfuls of softness. It's a little frustrating to spin at times, when it suddenly stops drafting smoothly, or it breaks in the spun yarn (it's done that several times to me), or you're trying to figure out how to hold this tribble without felting it... and the cat wants to attack it or sleep on it, I can't tell which.

"Actually, I haven't decided myself..."

But all in all, I'm actually having a good time. Did I mention it's soft??

What's on the wheel

Mixed wool "Potluck Roving", color "Vine Maple", purchased at Paradise Fibers.

Flash notwithstanding, this is actually pretty close to the real color.

I'm spinning it semi-worsted, not taking too much care about the drafting since I want it to have a kind of rustic texture when I'm done. I'm hoping for a mildly thick-and-thin worsted weight two-ply; so far it's spinning up at 22wpi, give or take, so I'm right on track.

Shiny penny for scale (and color reference)

I've got approximately 8oz of this, which I'm currently estimating will get me 500yds or so, once it's plied. Though right now it looks like it may go farther!

Would you believe me if I said this was an afternoon's spinning?? I'm flying through this!

I am, of course, spinning it on my beloved Kromski Prelude. HD was kind enough to take some action shots, so you can appreciate the beauty of a good spinning wheel in motion.

Good shot looking down on the bobbin and (blurry haze of) the flyer.

Here we bring in the treadle and my drafting technique. I tend to favor a short draw, which is what you see me using here.
The spiky thing back by the wheel is a lazy kate, currently empty.
The dangly bit of dark red in front of the wheel is a yarn loop on my orifice hook.

All the motion together! My right foot works the treadle, which moves the footman, which spins the wheel, which (by way of the drive band) turns the flyer and the bobbin, only the brake on the bobbin means it turns slower, so yarn winds up nicely on it as it spins around. Got it?

In the works

I've ordered seeds for this year's garden - my typically grandiose, even gleefully excessive, hopes for the garden's bounty, printed out in black and white and given a (hefty) price tag. It's a little more intimidating this way, than when it's merely my perpetually hopeful imaginings of bumper crops and fresh sweet corn... I've never in my life managed to actually -grow- sweet corn, though obviously many people do so sucessfully here and sell it at road side stands up and down this valley. Just not me. Yet still I buy it (this year, it's "Vision", from Johnny's Seeds, with 75 days to maturity and the most appropriate name I've ever seen).

In fact, this year I've purchased 37 varieties of seed for my vegetable garden, possibly a new record for me. I'm feeling very positive in general about planting in the new plot (even if we don't move this year, we're still going to plant the garden up at the farmhouse), with more room, better soil - and more sun.


I've also been working on designing a shawl pattern. It's the most frustrating thing I've ever done for fun, other than gardening. The shawl itself is a simple triangle, knit from the center of the neck down, with a lovely lace stitch called "elfin lace" covering the upper third. The problem happens when I try to switch to a thistle-pattern lace I've been designing, which doesn't want to play nice. Just when I think I'm getting the hang of it, it decides to go and do something totally contrary to what I thought was going to happen! I've been swatching and working on it in the off hours, so hopefully I'll have something to show you in a week or two.


The house progresses slowly. I had really hoped to be further along by now - since it's the end of January - but considering how sick we've all been, we're still making good progress. Even today, I've mostly been lying on the couch with the cat, sneezing and drinking tea and trying to ignore a fever. Working the problem from both ends (preparing the farm and getting this house ready to sell) is exhausting and stressful, and (with the winter weather) takes its toll on a body. However, I suspect that next weekend, we'll be ready to tackle some issues with paint and trim, which will feel like real progress!


I filed the taxes! That's progress I can make even with a nasty headcold.


I've been ignoring the spinning wheel, and I should stop. I miss it. I have a lovely bunch of orangey-red mixed wools (not my dye job, they came that way) that would brighten up the winter blahs and be a fantastic gift for one of my knitting friends.... And then I can practice my dye skills on some of the undyed wools in my "to spin" box.


I'll leave you, then, with some pictures of the Mocha Latte soap. At this stage (just barely three days in), the ammonia smell is gone, becoming instead a mild coffee/cocoa smell. The color darkened dramatically after I cut it, and it looks (to my eyes) almost exactly like fudge. It's sitting in an out-of-the-way place, separated for better air circulation, where it will cure for the next several weeks (I guess).