Rabbitch

The most important thing to remember when dyeing roving is that you have to have some roving to dye.

Here we have a great big bag of Corriedale.




My friend The Knitting Linguist has come over to the dark (and spinny) side, and requested that I do her up right, as it were. She wanted some of "the good stuff" and requested blues and greens. I went over town the other day and bought an assload of roving and attempted to do what she wanted.

Herein is the tale of my efforts. Mark it well.

The second most important thing, when you are dyeing roving, is a big-assed glass of cheap merlot.

If you accidentally bought the expensive stuff, that's ok too, but you're going to have to drink a lot of it. It's required. I just hope your pocketbook can keep up with it.




No matter what the time of day or night, a big-assed glass of merlot is mandatory. I think I poured this at about 9am but seeing my days are the same as your nights I'm excused. And even if I wasn't, I'm from Glasgow, we get hinky when we get too much blood in our alcohol stream. It's a matter of medical necessity.

I wouldn't do this sort of thing if I didn't have to.



First, you take the great big wad of roving and you weigh it out. This is my digital scale. You will note that this lump is 45 grams. I sold her 4 oz of roving which is like 135 grams or something.

At this point I wondered if I was doing a new spinner any kind of favour selling her four ounces of roving, because it's really quite a lot. And then I thought "oh hell, she's paid for it, and it wasn't that much in the way of cash and I've spent it already, so that's what she gets."

I'm so considerate. Plus I already ate the food I bought with the money so a refund would be sort of ugly at this point.

So, I weighed it out and then I soaked it in water with vinegar in it.




It got to hang out in the water with about a cup of vinegar in it for half an hour or so and then we prepared ... The Device.




Well, actually The Device is a bath towel with two lengths of plastic wrap laid over it. I used tape at the ends because I've had this stuff roll up on me before but really, that's about as high tech as it gets.

About this point it's time to pour another glass of cheap merlot.




You then take the roving and gently squeeze out the water and lay the roving down in a sort of snaky way back and forth over the plastic wrap.




Line up the mason jars of prepared dyes beside the roving and consider your strategy.

Drink some more merlot.


Dilute the darkest blue dye quite a lot, and then spoon it over the roving in a few places. Put on plastic gloves so you don't dye your hands stupid colours, and moosh the dye through the roving.



Dilute the next dye, spoon it on, moosh it about.

I believe your glass of cheap-assed merlot is getting low.


Pour another one.

Drink it.



Smoosh the next colour all over the wool. By this time the roving may be bitching about the mistreatment. Tell it to shut up and take it like a ram.




Dilute the last colour, a photograph of which we seem to have not taken, then roll the entire thing up in the plastic wrap. Roll it like a sausage roll, sealing the sides as best you can, then curl it up like a cinnamon bun, stick it in a microwaveable dish, and bang it in the microwave for six minutes.

Then flip it over and do another six to eight minutes on the other side.




If, at this point, you discover that you have dyed your hands blue and green, despite the gloves, take a picture and embarrass yourself on the internet.




At this point, you should likely pour yourself another glass of merlot.




Then you take the casserole out of the microwave and floop the roving into the bath.



Once it's cooled a bit, you can unwrap it.

And rinse it.




And hang it on the shower rail.

And that's all she wrote.

I think it may be time for another big glass of cheap-assed merlot.

Don't you?

# posted by Rabbitch @ 12:00 PM