Yes thats right, I have crossed over to the other side; I dyed. And so let the puns commence. The other night I received my fist lesson in dying. I was thoroughly warned that one usually dies fiber, and there was no telling how yarn would come out. Therefore I expected a sad pathetic skein of mildly passable sock yarn, possibly a disaster ridden mess that I wouldn’t even want to knit. I never expected a beautiful skein that I almost don’t want to knit simply because then I wouldn’t have it anymore sitting there looking so lovely.

   The very generous Sue invited three of us to come into her home, use her crock pots and dying supplies, and we created some lovely yarn and fiber. Though in my foolishness I did not think to bring a camera to what was sure to be a disaster scene that I would not even want to admit to in a public forum such as this, and so I do not have pictures of the other beautiful creations. You will have to take my word for it, they were awesome.

   I am fairly certain that Sue was secretly working for the dye companies, taking a new advertising ideas from the drug dealers, first dix is free... She has definitely created another addict, as I am already plotting how to entice a crock pot away from my mother with the promise of yarn. Oh, the possibilities... if I want a certain color I can just make it myself, in whatever weight and composition yarn my little heart may desire, a very dangerous prospect.