What's an Egg Farmer To Do?

At this time of year, I let my chickens out to graze on the lawn and fields every day. They enjoy the freedom and we are rewarded with bright orange yolked eggs. The other day I couldn't help but see the similarity in two of my new colors of Julia Yarn Colors that Nashua Handknits is bringing out this coming fall. The little balls of yarn I wound looked so similar to the eggs' yolks I have been cooking every morning that I just couldn't help myself from taking this photo.


At this time of year, I'm always looking for ways to cook eggs to get rid of the glut of my hens' production. With stone fruit season fast approaching (cherries, apricots, peaches and plums), I began thinking about the classic french peasant dessert "clafouti." I was first introduced to it in Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" a long time ago. I love this easy dessert - impressive, not at all labor intensive, light and perfect for springtime.

Somewhere long ago, I once saw a recipe for a tomato clafouti. My search was on - where the heck did I see that? After looking through all my cookbooks, I finally gave up. I decided to take Julia's basic recipe for sweet clafouti and then adapt it to a bunch of cherry tomatoes I had hanging around to make a savory clafouti. It turned out to be perfect for a weekend brunch picnic. It looks so pretty, I can foresee making it for lunch with friends late this summer when my homegrown cherry tomatoes are in abundant supply. Enjoy!


Kristin's Tomato Clafouti

1 1/4 cups milk
3 extra large eggs
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup flour
3 cups cherry tomatoes - many colors are nice
4 oz. grated Gruyere or Parmesan cheese

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Mix together the milk, eggs, salt and flour in a blender or with a hand mixer. By hand, mix in half the cheese. Butter a porcelain quiche pan and pour enough of the batter into the bottom of the pan to cover. Bake for about 5 minutes to set the batter. Remove from oven and place cherry tomatoes neatly around the pan. Pour the batter over the tomatoes. Sprinkle the remainder of the cheese on top. Bake for 45 minutes. A knife should come out clean when inserted into the clafouti.

Serve warm with a green salad. The clafouti is just as good the next day.

May Day

Little glimpses around our farm today on this glorious May Day 2008. We didn't deliver any May Baskets but I'm delivering you some bits of spring tonight.

I let the chickens out every morning at this time of year. They eat bugs and worms and love to take a good dust bath. In a few weeks, I'll have too many plants in that I won't want them to eat so their hours out of the coop will be a bit less. They are enjoying every moment of freedom from morning til night.


Otto is Lily Pons' last year's handsome kitten who somehow has managed to become a big strapping cat. (He's the one we kept from this litter of five red striped tiger kittens.) He still is as sweet as they make 'em and really the only cat I have managed to have sit still for me for a photograph. He is loving the daffodils this week.


I have no idea what this shrub is but every spring it lets out a scream of a wonderful pinkish-salmon bloom that I gather by the armload and bring inside. After it's all over, you would have no idea that the homely shrub could be so beautiful.


I love these little purply-blue grape hyacinth blooms. The raindrops hanging onto the sides of them kind of look like little glass baubles.


Happy May!

Beauty in small things

Finding beauty in things that others would throw away is something I try to do when I think of it. This little pile of Julia Yarn bits has been sitting on my desk in my studio all winter long giving me a color hit when the days outside have been snowy, cloudy, and gray. I haven't been able to throw it away. One day I'll use it for stuffing a toy or something.


It's amazing what my camera picks up. The yarns fade in and out and create their own little impressionistic masterpiece.


Each one a little different.


One prettier than the next.


Hope you have a color filled weekend somehow. We're in for a bit of rain, sleet and snow.

Certain Signs of Spring

Digging out from another snowstorm on Friday into Saturday. Lovely snow but it is all piling up and getting downright deep. We haven't seen any deer in the orchard for the past couple weeks. The Farmer thinks the snowpack is too deep for them to move around much.

Although spring is elusive at the moment, I know it is on the way. The days are getting longer and the sun feels warmer late in the morning. The other trustworthy clue that spring will eventually get here on this hill is that my chickens are laying again. I am getting 3 to 6 eggs a day. It is really so much fun to crack open an egg still warm from the coop and cook or bake with it.

Last year I ordered a breed of chickens called Cuckoo Marans, aka "chocolate eggers". I could only purchase them “straight run” which means there is a mix of hen and rooster chicks. Of the 12 that grew out, I only ended up with 5 hens. A bit disappointing since I really only need one or two roosters to wake us up in the morning.

Cuckoo Marans were developed in Maran, France and they are rather large birds. That's my group on the roost above. The roosters look very similar to Barred Rocks but with longer tail feathers. The hens are a bit darker grey with just a bit of mottling in their feathers. I have been anticipating the eggs from these hens – wondering how dark they would be and if they would live up to all the fanfare.

Here is the egg selection from my hens production last week.


The blue eggs are from the Aracaunas. These birds are really nice – gentle and extremely prolific. The white and off-white eggs are from the Polish “top hat” chickens and white Silkie Bantams shown in the photo below. The typical brown eggs are from my Buff Orpingtons. And those beautiful dark brown eggs are from the Cuckoo Maran hens. It is such a pretty selection.

I couldn't resist placing some balls of Julia amongst the lovely natural colored eggs. Now I have just got to find some time to make a swatch from this inspiration.

Kristin in Minnesota at the Textile Center

"Come one, come all" as the saying goes. On February 15, 2008, I'll be doing a talk titled The Joy of Color at The Textile Center of Minnesota. I'm really happy that the folks at the Textile Center of Minnesota are hosting the evening. Information on the location and time is on the sidebar of this blog.

To spread the word, can you do me a favor? On my website, there is a PDF file of the poster shown at left. If you can, print it out and post it at your local grocery store, church, community center, or where ever you think knitters, quilters, and stitchers may see it. The more people who come, the more fun it will be for all of us. There will be door prizes and I'll be doing a booksigning. I'll have knitted samples from the book too. I can't wait to meet all of you!

Download the poster by clicking here.

If you can't come to this event, I'll also be at Knit and Crochet Out at the Mall of America on February 16 and 17th. Click here for information about this event.

Note to regular blog readers: This post is dated so that it will appear at the top of my blog until the day of the event. For new posts, see below.

White, Black and Gray

We're in the midst of some very cold weather with more snow predicted for this evening and tomorrow. Sunday it was just other worldly on our hill. We had a fresh couple of inches of snow and in the morning, it was so foggy and eerie, you could barely see the trees across the field. It was like something out of the movies.


Our poor Border Collies Phoebe and Ness are getting tired of not doing any official work. We can't take them to the sheep because it would be mass chaos - mama ewes stamping their feet, baby lambs trying to run and escape these creatures they have never seen before.


The dogs take their herding heritage seriously. The only thing they have had to herd since December are the chickens and guinea hens. There is a path deep in the snow where they circle around the pen when it is feeding time.


A couple days ago, three of the guinea fowl escaped. I have been trying in earnest to recapture them but they just don't want to be enclosed any more. They are definitely ready for spring. They have been sleeping high up in a maple tree. I leave the pen open all afternoon hoping they will return to their roost. Last night I thought I had success. But no, this morning, they're still out. At least it gives Phoebe and Ness something to think about and look after. They can't catch them but now they are busy.


They have given me a chance to capture some nice photos of them against the gray and clouded skies and with our snow covered hill behind. I truly love these noisy, wild and wacky looking birds.

Atlantic and Pacific Memories

It's been a bit short on the knitting content here on this blog this past month. As you can imagine, lambing season takes over our lives. Although I'm still knitting and designing, I can't post any current projects because they are going to be in an upcoming book I am working on. I've also been doing quite a bit of designing for Nashua/Westminster Fibers for their upcoming Fall 2008 pattern collections.

When I work on a book, I put a lot into it and come up with all kinds of ideas. Books have a certain amount of pages and everything must fit according to a formula - aka "book layout and design." This part really drives me crazy because my content, that I worked on, wrote about and conceptualized in my head often gets dropped. But those are the breaks. I often save the ideas and can try to add it to the next book project if it fits. And then there is my blog which is the perfect vehicle for showing ideas that get cut.

From reading this blog, you know that lots of my ideas come from nature and observing. So it was with the colorways of both of the Atlantic and Pacific socks. (This pattern is on page 84 of Kristin Knits.) I wrote a lovely little passage about this inspiration and it got cut to two short sentences. I'll let you in on some of it here.


Over the years, I have lived on both coasts of the USA. I went to school at Oregon State University on an exchange program in 1978-79. I was one of a large number of exchange students from all over the USA and parts of the world. Most of us weren't there only for school. Mostly we wanted to explore the incredibly beautiful state of Oregon and the Pacific Northwest. OSU was where I met The Farmer - he was on exchange from UMass and I from University of Delaware. We all would venture to the Oregon Coast (Corvallis was only about 1 1/2 hours from the coast) and spend time on the beach and eating clam chowder. I am pretty sure beer and coffee was also involved. I can still remember the amazing sunsets like they were yesterday - purple, fuschia, orange, gray blues. They are marked on my mind and I hope they never leave. I don't have a photo of these days but you can see what I am talking about here on this "beach camping website." Those sunsets inspired the socks on the polka dot legs.

About ten years later, my friend Sally invited The Farmer and I to her home on Swan's Island - a small island off of Bass Harbor "down east" in Maine. I had never been to an island in Maine before. We both fell in love with the everything on the island - the people, the colors, the freshly caught lobster, the smells. We've been going back ever since. Last summer I wrote about our trip here and here.


So that's where I got the color ideas for these socks. I am really happy with the way they turned out. I had intended them to be shown on a man and a woman but we didn't have an available male at the shoot. But there was a little person and her mom (not me and Julia in case you are wondering). Luckily I had brought a bunch of Julia's tights with me and they were the perfect accessory. We plopped the mom and her child on a table in this lovely gray room and here's how they look. I do so love the photo and how the legs are intertwined. Kevin Kennefick did a great job.

There will be some big news next week about something a new friend and I have been working on. Stop back at the beginning of the week!

Looking for Color

At this time of year, I am craving a bit of color in the landscape. Every once in a while it pops out at me. But mostly, things look rather taupe and beige and grey like this scene at a farm nearby.



It's hard to believe that there still can be green grass out there but this field next door looks nice and healthy. The hillside behind it is a lovely taupe shade and one of my favorite places to look for wildlife.


Looking down can sometimes yield a colorful surprise.


This hillside is covered with wild roses. At this time of year, the hips add bits of color to the landscape.


Further up the hill there are some lovely gold leaves that haven't blown off the trees yet.


Who would think barbed wire could look so pretty.


Invasive as it is, bittersweet vines sure do make me happy in November.

The Colors are Slipping Away

Fall color is almost over here in northwestern Massachusetts. The other day I was out walking and all of a sudden the leaves were blowing off the trees at a furious rate. It doesn't take long and they are all gone, until next spring.


Being a color person, you can imagine how sad this makes me feel. I am now going to have to reach down into my inner depths and create all the color in my life totally by myself. Ugh, that's about all I have to say. So much work for me to do.


The beech leaves are still hanging on - they are about the last to turn here. Beech trees are native to our local forest and I am really crazy about them. In the spring, their leaves are a lovely chartreuse. As summer develops and fall begins, the chartreuse ages, then turns gold and finally a lovely toffee shade. On our "sheep trek" the other day, I passed this lovely forest full of beeches.


When the leaves start turning it is altogether overwhelming if you just start looking at each an every individual leaf. They are like little paintings that nature creates. It would be hard to paint them as beautiful as they naturally turn. I love this maple leaf - a study in contrasting colors of red and green.


All the tree varieties' leaves turn different colors and I feel so very fortunate to live where I do. No wonder fall is my favorite time of year - it's a color show every time I wallk out the door. Even the lowly weedy sumac turns a wonderful red shade. How pretty this sumac leaf is when inspected closely. The speckled texture of the rock beneath echoes the green speckles on the leaf.


Because fall is so fleeting, I wanted to document it so I could remember the colors come this winter when I am craving natural color and there is none in the landscape. I took quite a few photos the other day. Here's my first attempt at Julia Yarn Colors interspersed with autumn leaves.

As you can see, way too much contrast. It was late in the day and I didn't think the light would be so strong, but it was. So I walked the leaves and the yarn around to the front of the house and placed them on the lovely speckled rock that is the front stoop. Julia acted as a sunblock and everything looks nicer. Better color definition and much less glare.

Taking photos for this blog has really been a stretch for me. I have always snapped photos but for my large projects, there has always been a professional photographer with an assistant. I have learned some by watching them but I will never be a pro. It has been fun to capture little things and document the way I think about color for my work and this blog. But I really admire how real photographers can assess the light situation on the spot and move a subject to take advantage of the best light. I'm getting a little better at it but I still need to look at the photos on the digital screen to actually know what I am getting.

These are some of the results of a few minutes in the afternoon the other day before all the color went away.


Enjoy the leaves and the weekend.

Love Lies Bleeding

I am very in love with a plant called "Love Lies Bleeding" also known as Amaranthus caudatus. I've grown it off and on for years, buying plants when I can find them. Once in a while, I pick up other colors including chartreuse and orange. There are many other related plants that give similar effects and I am crazy over all of them. I've got to try to plant some next year at the sunflower field because they blend so nicely with the yellow shades of sunflowers.


I plant my Love Lies Bleeding in my vegetable garden and then let the plants go without picking them until the end of the season. The flowers sometimes get big and gnarly and drippy. Some years my flowers have thinner tassels. Whatever the look and variety, they are spectacular in a vase at this time of year.


The Victorians were also crazy over Love Lies Bleeding and by looking at it, you should be able to tell why. What a totally decorative, showy, dramatic flower. I have it arranged here with my wacky Chinese Foo Dogs, some bottle gourds from last year, and an unmatched pair of cloisonne vases. I love how all the colors play together in this photo.


William Wordsworth wrote a poem about the plant.

Love Lies Bleeding
by William Wordsworth

You call it, Love lies bleeding, -- so you may,
Though the red Flower, not prostrate, only droops,
As we have seen it here from day to day,
From month to month, life passing not away:
A flower how rich in sadness! .........

Read the rest of the poem here:

In years past, I have used the blooms from my garden in oil paintings. It's fun to see how I portrayed the flower in the painting and what they look like in my garden this year. I hope I get to paint this year's crop this winter.




I'm off to Boston today for a talk and a class on Friday morning at the Boston Knitting Guild. Hope to see some of you there. The talk is at 10:30 at the College Club at 44 Commonwealth Ave.

Leaf Peeping?

Today is the 8th of October and by the history that I’ve got hidden somewhere in my little brain, this past weekend (the weekend after my birthday) should be peak foliage here in our corner of the world. But instead, it has been in the 70’s and 80’s with no rain for a very long time. Lots of the oak trees have dropped their leaves.

Instead of the red and orange and gold of the maples we usually experience on this past weekend, we still have zinnias blooming and blooming - oh how I love their exuberance. I'll take the extra blooms in my vases and kitchen while I can.


I really do look forward to leaf-peeping season every year. It is my very favorite time of year – I break out all the woolens and go for long walks in the crisp, newly cold air. Instead, we have…… Beautiful red dahlia’s blooming .....


And my tomatoes are still ripening. It seems I planted very few red tomatoes this year and the sauce I am putting away is more orange than red. Oh, the trouble with heirlooms tomatoes, nary a red tomato!


The sunflowers on the other hand, have finished their show and the birds are enjoying the fruits of their labors. We've put out some beautiful large pumpkins onto the self-serve haywagon and we're hoping they get purchased before they get squashed!

I never get to making pesto until frost is threatened. Since that hasn’t happened yet, my basil is still growing and blooming. But tomorrow I am going to get to that basil and mix up several batches of pesto to put away for the winter. Black fingernails without polish for sure.

Sunflowers on Colored Backgrounds

A few weeks ago I did something I have been wanting to do for a long time. I went to the hardware store and purchased some masonite 4' x 8' panels. I had the store cut them down to a more manageable size (3' x 4') and took them home in the back of my truckish kind of vehicle. I set them up all around the house and started slapping color on them. I got out all the old paint cans from my basement (let's not go there....) and proceeded to paint 6 different shades on the 6 different boards. Then the fun started. I had colors I was dreaming of in my head but when I get to the fun part, they always change and I go with the paint and what happens.

I'm going to use these boards to use to take photos on. Although the distressed, colorwash thing has been around for ever, I still like it. All kinds of objects look nice on washed backgrounds and lots of times, the background just fades away and give a nice soft feeling and a hint of the color. I even let Julia get in on the action because neatness doesn't count with the technique. I dunk wads of paper towels (Bounty is best for this) or old turkish towels if I have them into thinned paint (I just add water). Then I rub it around on the board - unevenly and messily - and let it dry. I stand back. If I like it, I stop. If not, I just keep adding colors until I do. Julia and I both had lots of fun and I got some new tools for my blog and future photo shoots for future books. The flat panels can be stored along the walls of my studio and won't get in the way too much. I can set them as backgrounds along a wall I have used in photos too often or I can lay something down on them for close-ups.

These photos are of some of our sunflowers. I like how each background gives a different mood to the flowers.

This lupine blue/periwinkle board is a classic combination with yellow sunflowers.


This chartreuse background almost matches some of the tones in the flower but it gives a bright and happy feeling.


This aqua board contrasts nicely against the orangey tones of many of the sunflowers.


This hot-pink background speaks happiness. I bet you know who painted this one - the Princess of Pink!


This rather somber background started as a greyish taupe, then morphed into aqua and ended up a nice wintery bluish green shade. The sunflowers look more autumnal against this background.


Which combination do you like the best?

Mainely Color

Mainely color, mainely Maine, mainely schmainely - it's all good and inspiring. From the notes I have gotten from you all, it sounds like so many of you have had the same delicious experience of visiting an island in Maine. I think it's not really about what island - it's about the ferry and the divorce from the mainland that makes a vacation on a Maine island just so special. It really does let you forget about deadlines and everything that needs to be done that isn't getting done.

Here are some beautiful shots that I find so inspiring for working with color.

I love the colors in the old truck outside my friend's home. The rusty fenders, the teal paint - it just settles into the Maine landscape so harmoniously.


The maple trees outside the back door and all over the island were dropping these wacky looking leaves. They probably had some kind of blight but to me it was a design of some kind waiting to happen.


I didn't know what these funny looking birds were. I have never seen them in such abundance. They are cormorants and boy can they dive and catch the fish. They also take a great photo and their dark black color looks lovely against rocks and the blue sea.


Seaweed, teal ocean, rocks, evergreen trees and blue sky - what a study in blues and green.


The tide was coming into these rocks and pooling around - the charcoal color was glistening.


We went on a misguided adventure looking for an old quarry. We never found it but the moss and lichen growing on the rocks was amazing.


I love the wild roses found all over the island. I've tried to grow them here but they never quite succeed.


I spent most of my free time working on a granny square afghan. Here's the fruits of my labors.


The yarn is Julia, of course. I grabbed a size G crochet hook on the way out the door and just started. Totally mindless and fun hours spent mixing the colors together. I'll write more about it some other day.

See See See the Seaweed

The first time I ever went to our island in Maine, I was astounded by the colors there. Most astonishing was the seaweed I saw along the rocks on the shores. I was just bowled over. Call it kelp, bracken, chartreuse or whatever nasty name you want to call it - I am just crazy over it. Lay it down next to the teal blue ocean and it makes me want to sit there all day looking at it. But then the tide comes in and it disappears.


Of course seaweed comes in many colors, shapes and sizes. It's amazing stuff. Who was to think that all piled together in an ocean mess it could be so visually pleasing. This bunch was drying on a beach while the tide was out. If I had styled it, I would have messed it up. Nature is such a fabulous artist.


On another beach, we watched this bunch of weed go in and out with the tide. The cold froth of the ocean reminds me of lace. The delicate branching of the seaweed would make a lovely design for an embroidered pillow.


Lastly, I grabbed a little assortment of weed from a different beach and dragged it home to the cottage. I soaked it overnight so it wouldn't dry out and waited for the perfect moment. These five different kinds of seaweed are so lovely to look at. On the pinkish marble slab, their shapes echo the veins in the marble below.


I made these plates for my friend Sally who owns the house we stay at. They're my own interpretation of seaweed in some of my bright colors. It's fun to visit my art and say hello to it in other people's homes. It's also nice that my plates have such a beautiful wall and home to live on and in.

Bluebell Thoughts

When I was a little girl, we moved across town to a bigger house with a bigger yard. The place was more accommodating for our family of six. Shortly thereafter, my youngest sister Jenn joined us. We moved into the house on the hill in November. My dad loved to garden and he was really looking forward to shaping this bigger space into his own little masterpiece.

The woman who had died in the big house had been a bit well-off, as they say. She had a maid/nurse/gardener who ended up taking care of her in her failing health. The nurse was from England and so she put her own little touch on the place. The garden had a definite English feeling to it with long sweeping borders.

The first spring, the woodland beds were full of a plant my mom told us were Virginia Bluebells. They came out early in the year and had lovely oblong leaves and nodding heads of blossoms. As the blossoms aged, they turned a lighter shade of blue. Each year, we waited for Daddy to say, “The bluebells are blooming.” We would all go outside and look at them and oooh and aaaah. I’m not sure if this is how it happened, but I like to think it was.


After the blooms were through, the bluebells would shrivel up and die away. The foilage turned brown and then they would be gone. Mysteriously, the next year, they would re-appear, like old friends who only visit once a year.

When we bought this farm and were starting to make a garden, my mom arrived with some shrivelly looking plants. She said these were “the bluebells.” Her advice was to just stick them in the ground and forget about them til the next year. "Don’t worry how bad they look, Kristin. They'll be beautiful next spring."

I didn't worry. Nasty looking plants never scare me. The next year they bloomed. And the next. Their roots must spread underground because now I have my own little colony just beginning.

The bluebells have started to "go bye" as they say here in New England. I've used them to inspire a little yarn color grouping so I can knit the bluebell memories up next winter.

Stripes

When I think of stripes, I usually think of neat and orderly lines, of like sizes, repeated in a pattern to make a fabric. Sometimes the line sizes vary but they are usually in a pattern of some kind. Lately I have been seeing stripes of a different kind - stripes in nature.

Stripes in the green spring landscape


Stripes on the baby raccoon tails


Undulating stripes on the Jack in the Pulpit


Broken shadow stripes on a leaf from the fern above


Stripes on the chipmunk's back


The stripes I have encountered in nature have made me think about the stripes I make in my knitting. Usually, but not always, they are even and ordered. Usually they repeat, although not always tightly and neatly. Here are some new little stripes I have been fooling with - inspired by the stripes on the creatures and green things I have been observing the past couple weeks as spring unfolds around me. Right now they are just little bits of swatches and ideas. I don't know where they will turn up but it has been fun playing with them.

These stripes were inspired by the chipmunk and the raccoons:


These stripes were inspired by the forest stripes. I was playing with textures and greens, aquas, and brownish greens.


Like with everything I do, some were successful swatches but some weren't. My swatches are a good record that I refer back to over and over again.

Lilac dreams

At this time of year in my garden, there is more blue and purple and pink than any other time. Blues and purples always remind me of the freshness and coolness of spring. I can’t get enough of them. The other day, our old-fashioned lilac started blooming. Behind it was a maple tree which was popping out limey and chartreuse all over. Against the blue sky, it was a beautiful sight.


Knitters often ask me how I put colors together. I've just been doing it for so long now that is hard to think about how I first started. The whole thing is very natural and intuitive. I've written a few articles on color for knitting magazines and you'll find a good color chapter in Colorful Stitchery. Right now, I am thinking about putting together some kind of talk on color that I can set up on my computer and present to interested knitters and designers for a fee.



Nature is one of the easiest places to gather color ideas. I've been taking a lot of photos to document nice color combinations in nature. I will be posting them here on my blog and hopefully translating them into swatches to post too. It's a long range project that I don't have a lot of time for - but I think it will be fun and be a learning tool I can share with knitters and stitchers when I see them in person.



I've found a new blog you might like to read - it's all about color. Here's the link to The ColourLover's blog and website. If you are a color junkie, prepare to spend a bunch of time on this website. Evidently, there are more people fascinated by color than just me. Does anyone out there know any other color blogs?