So we went to the Apple Day yesterday!
The same mobile apple-squeezer was there again. It has a large hydraulic press and produces cartons of apple juice. Farmers from all around come and bring their crates with apples to be processed on this day:
The rare notaris apple was out in the open 🙂
I didn’t look too weird either:
I’m carrying my new WIPbag, holding Bines Sock, and a pair of socks I purchased at a stand. Around my neck is my Forest Shawl, based on Kudzu Shawl (pattern by Rachel Henry), which features leaves and Dutch mock rib “koffieboontje”.
There were knitters too.
This lady showed me a neat trick to see if a sock is your size. Put your thumb into your fist. Wrap the sock around your fist, if toe and heel just touch each other, it’s your size:
It’s an “old wife’s tale” and it works.
Amazingly your fist is also about the size of your stomach. If you eat more than that volume, your body will produce insuline, no matter what the food is you ate. So a head of lettuce will induce an insuline peak even though it has no carbohydrates. (This modern old wife’s tale is told by dr. Bernstein, the oldest living type 1 diabetes in the world and insulin specialist. 84 yo and going strong!)
They only cost 7,50 euro’s (less than ten dollars)….
To which I commented that it was too cheap. The lady kindly explained that these socks are knit by lonesome people, retired farmers mostly, who are stuck in the country side, not able to leave the house easily. They feel useless and alone. Knitting gives them some occupation and selling their knits gives them some kind of purpose.
Having learned something new about the world I then told her how much I appreciated the skilled labour that went into these socks and that I would wear them gladly. Her face lit up and she said she’d pass the message along. (I now wish I bought more socks from her.)
Then we were at the cabin again and I had to finish a felting job: the foot warmer, made from gotland fleece, I started three weeks ago.
I hadn’t left things too well then. The fleece had felted nicely to the mountainsheep but I had not put on enough mountain sheep. It was too much like lace:
Where I to proceed to the second stage of wetfelting, the shrinking part, this would probably result in all kinds of holes in the fabric. No, this bag needed another layer of mountain sheep fulled to it, before I could start felting (the shrinking).
The sun was nearing the horizon, I was quite done with this project. I’d rather sit in the sun or walk around our little patch of wood and admire nature. It’s amazing how beautiful and green everything is this late in September!
Once all the wool has fulled adequately and all that’s left to do is the shrinking you can toss your felt project into the washing machine, provided you don’t mind if the shrinking occurs a bit thuggish. If you want to shrink in a controlled manner you’d have to do it by hand. I did a cold rinse and then spinning cycle.
Still wet because I didn’t dare put it in the dryer. It’s not drying too quickly because although it’s nice weather it’s actually not very dry air or hot sun. Luckily there’s always IKEA to the rescue:
Once it’s dry I’ll pry out some more of the vegetative matter and then I’ll take some decent pictures. Trying it out on the couch, with cat supervision, no doubt.