News and Blog

This 4 year-old ram was limping. Dominique found an adobe-like (weed & dried mud) substance wedged in the cloven (the soft space between the two claws) of his hoof and removed it. He should walk more easily tomorrow.
Indigo Blue, Part 2

An indigo bath ready for yarn



The yarn comes out of the bath a teal green; when it contacts the air it oxidizes and turns blue before your eyes. Notice how the color has changed between the top of the skein and its bottom as it is pulled up.
We let the yarn drip back into the pot, then hang it on the overhead rack to oxidize. If we want a darker blue, we will dip the yarn again, oxidize it...and over again... The intensity of indigo blue is additive.
Dark Indigo
When we have arrived at a shade of blue we like, we will let the yarn oxidize longer, then wash, rinse and air dry it. Indigo is truly a forgiving color.
Next: Over dyeing with indigo, Laura's Ember

In botany, a scape is a flowering stem. The scape of garlic, Allium Sativum, begins to curl after having formed a bulbil that will soon flower. Scapes should be broken off to enhance the final underground growth of the bulb, or what we call the head, which we will harvest in about two weeks when the cloves have fully and distinctly developed. Until then I cook with the whole plant using both the immature head and the green leaves; this is spring garlic.

Harvesting garlic, from the Tacuinum Sanitatis, illuminated in Lombardy ca. 1400; a handbook on wellness, food and agriculture based on the Taqwin al Sihha تقوين الصحة, Tables of Health, an eleventh-century Arab medical treatise by Ibn Butlan of Baghdad.
When I lived in San Francisco’s North Beach I often took the 30 Stockton, an overhead electric trolley, that went through Chinatown. There, the bus was crowded—standing-room-only—and reeked of garlic, the so called "stinking rose," that is eaten to ward off plagues according to the annals of TCM, Traditional Chinese Medicine.
Garlic Scape Pesto
1/2 pound peeled garlic scapes, finely chopped
6 T fresh lemon juice
1/2 cup olive oil
2 cups grated Parmesan cheese
salt to taste
Laura wants 15 skeins of Ember, a color that begins as another color called Sunset which comes from mixing madder, fustic & logwood gray extracts.

Jen, Laura’s daughter-in-law, liked Ember for its subtle color variation, she wanted a sweater-coat knit from it and Laura offered to knit the coat for her; but we had only two skeins of that color in the stand; it would have to be dyed. To get Ember we must over-dye Sunset with indigo; fortunately at the farm we had 24 skeins ready to be over-dyed.
To exactly match the color would be impossible, and to come acceptably close to it would not be easy either, but I decided to try. 15 skeins is a large order, Laura didn’t blink at the price, how could I balk over my doubt.
A variety of plants have provided natural indigo throughout history, but most indigo is obtained from those in the genus Indigofera, which are native to the tropics. The primary commercial indigo species in Asia is Indigofera Tinctoria.
Indigo dye is obtained from processing the plant's leaves. These are soaked in water and fermented in order to convert the Glycoside Indican naturally present in the plant to the blue dye Indigotin. The precipitate from the fermented leaf solution is mixed with a base, pressed into cakes, dried, and powdered.
Natural indigo was the only source of the dye until July 1897. Within a short time, synthetic indigo almost completely superseded natural indigo; today nearly all indigo produced is synthetic. In the United States, the primary use for indigo is as a dye for blue jeans. After the Wikipedia entry on "Indigo"
My source for indigo extract is Earthues; it is sold as a powder. When working with extracts & dyes wear a paper particulate mask over your nose and mouth, latex gloves and eye protection as the situation requires.
Thiourea dioxide is a reagent that reduces the oxygen of the dye bath and lye raises the pH. Both an absence of oxygen and a basic (non acidic) dye bath (with a pH of 9-10) are required for the indigo to fix to the wool yarn being dyed in the pot.
Until now we have been scientific and specific, but art and experience are required to get the blues you want. With a spoon, to determine how much oxygen remains in the solution, I check the color of the dye bath: to dye indigo well the solution must be a blue blue-green, not a blue (too much oxygen) and not a lime-green (too little oxygen). Upon addition of the indigo/thiourea/lye solution to the bath its color will be blue at first. One must wait about 15 minutes for the thiourea to reduce the oxygen in the pot. If the blue blue-green is not green enough then add another TBS of thiourea to the bath. If it is too green, agitate the bath to introduce oxygen.
When the bath is ready, judged by its color and its slipperiness, the yarn is immersed in the pot, and your heart pounds, “Did I do it right…bumpety, bumpety, bump…O the art…”
Dyes, utensils & resources
The Catskill Merino Natural Dye Syllabus describes how, using natural colors, we dye yarn on the farm. The history of natural dyeing is fascinating and I will make reference to it occasionally, but our focus here is to show you how we dye yarn so you can begin dyeing it too.


Pictured above on our dye table are a balance and dye extracts weighed out on coffee filters.

You will need an accurate method to weigh the dye extracts to 0.1 gram. We use a triple beam balance like this one available from Scales-n-Tools


The Catskill Merino dye studio is as big as all outdoors, and as colorful. Here is a Kitchen Fantasy 100 qt. ss pot on a Louisiana Lagniappe 105,000 btu burner. Note the garment rack (sans wheels) over the pot to hang the dyed yarn when it is pulled from the dye bath.
To dye one or two skeins on your stove top you won’t need equipment like this; but you should use non-reactive pots, either stainless steel or enamel and never use pots of iron or aluminum as these metals influence the colors. You can get around buying a triple beam balance by using measuring spoon weight equivalents (charted by color and intensity) specified in the Earthues Natural Dye Instruction Book.

Looking at a dead sheep, you can understand the cause of death. There are reasons; death is from a natural disease, it is from old age or it is inexplicable…death is reasonable and you are sane. But when you have unintentionally caused a sheep’s death, it taunts you in your own voice, “You did this.” And you must accept responsibility or death becomes unreasonable as it invites you to place blame elsewhere, and doing so you've become insane.
Either way, the vultures come.
To move the ewe flock to a new paddock a quarter mile away meant moving them through an unfenced area. Dominique would lead them with the carrot, a bucket with grain in it, and I would follow with the stick, a barking Poem. But that unfenced quarter mile could make the trip a long one as there was lush grass on the sides of the lane to tempt the sheep. The idea was to keep the 300 sheep bunched together in a flock moving forward, going for the carrot, afraid of the stick.
When we let the sheep out they followed Dominique and her grain bucket, but halfway there the flock began to string out; the leaders doubled back as the flock turned to the grass on left side of the lane. They were not going for the carrot, I called Dominique to come to the back of the flock with Poem and me; now we were the stick.
Shouting, clapping, barking and moving from side to side we got them swirling forward toward the open fence of the new paddock. We couldn’t let the sheep get behind us, if they out flanked us and ran we were lost. Then three ewes broke through our rear line, others would soon follow; like a Civil War reenactment, the Battle of Goshen, I sent Poem (the cavalry) back to round up the rebel sheep and drive them back to the flock, and she did it quickly with her innate skill.
Now for the lambs. We walked with Poem back and forth through the high grass but found no hidden stragglers; we assumed, and hoped, they'd joined the flock when we were busy circling the sheep and didn't see them.

October 20, 2006 - June 10, 2008
The interior of my house is white: white ceilings, white walls and white carpet, upstairs and down. With white sheepskins, I draped the love seat, three wicker chairs and an ottoman in the living room. I sleep under a comforter, filled with white wool covered with white flannel.I like white for what it isn’t. Color has to do with place, place has to do with what is there; but white has to do with what is not there and what is not there has to do with desire.Color is felt more than it is seen. According to Johan Wolfgang Von Goethe in his 1807 treatise on color, reddish-green is a color that can’t be seen; but what we can’t see, we can imagine. Last week I dyed a color that Goethe would have been blind to, it was a crimson-lime hue that, it was the color of skin.In the Jean Luc Godard film, Une Femme est une Femme, the tanned skin of his actor, Anna Karina, glows as the camera follows her through the film’s white interiors. According to Goethe, we can not see a brilliant brown in the way we can see a brilliant red, yet her skin is brilliant when seen against the white interior of desire.Color requires us to become its temporal accomplice. When a lone color is seen (isolated in space), the red of an apple for example, a color from the past or perhaps a color from the future, a color heretofore unknown to us, will come to mind. Color can’t be spatially alone, or it becomes white. So through us, the temporal joins and influences color; but white is different, it is unchanging, it is alone, it is beyond time.White is messianic, always to come and never to arrive. When Franz Kafka says, “You are reserved for a great Monday…but Sunday will never end,” he speaks of white. Something that has not yet begun will never end and wouldn't this be white too.To prefer one color is to hide another. The colors we hide become secrets, which are always white, and they determine the strangers in our lives by determining our friends and lovers, those close enough to us to know our favorite color.
"Turkey Red was the name given to a red dye which had been developed from the root of the madder plant. The knowledge that madder was an effective red dye was not new. The Greeks, Libyans and Romans all used it as did the Moors. After its use was lost the Dutch rediscovered its cultivation in 1494 and for the next three hundred years were the world’s largest exporters.
In 1747 Prince Charles Edward Stuart disguised himself as Betty Burke by wearing a block printed madder dress to escape from the English. From the middle of the eighteenth century chemists and industrialists from all over Europe had tried to find the industrial process that would give them a bright, fast, non fade red. Ultimately French chemists obtained the secrets from what is now Turkey and the name stuck." From The Color Museum

