Yarn From Dog Hair

 Just over a year ago, I was at a festival with some friends. Over a few drinks and amidst stories about keeping turkeys and peacock impersonations, one friend mentioned that when she brushes her Samoyed dog she gets enough hair off him to make another dog. 

There were a few laughs and the suggestion of spinning it.

I had mostly relegated that entire conversation into a 'fun times with friends' file and forgotten about it. 

Then in February, the friend I travelled to this festival with passed away. It was devastating for me. Totally unexpected and I was lost.

A parcel arrived on my doorstep from the friend who has the dog. It contained a lot of lovely white fibre. It was fine, soft and strong. I'd forgotten about our conversation and it was a bit painful to poke at the memories so it took me a few guesses before I realised what I had. 

Hubby was disgusted at first. He couldn't understand why someone would send me dog hair. But it made me laugh. It lightened my days and gave me something fun to do. 

I started spinning. At first it was lovely and clean, it spun a beautiful fine thread easily. Then as I got down through the bag, I reached the stuff with lots of dander.

By the time I finished, I was needing to stop every 10 minutes to wash my hands and blow my nose. I had a pile of doggy dandruff an inch deep beneath my spinning wheel. 

I did a lot of thinking while I was spinning. This tends to happen anyway. I wondered why yarn is always assumed to be sheep's wool, or lately alpaca or possum. Why aren't other fibres considered? I'm guessing it's mostly tradition. 

The yarn was plyed and washed. What am I going to do with this? I wanted to make something for the friend who'd given it to me and finally settled on gumboot socks. She's a dairy farmer and I'm sure good, warm gumboot socks would always be welcome. 

I worked on them while I was at the market. They made a great conversation starter, especially when crafters are comparing notes about some of the strange and wonderful things they've made. They knitted up so nicely, I'm currently working on a pair for myself and considering some mitts too. 

The knitted yarn feels so soft and warm that I'm excited to get mine finished. 

Getting Fruit on Fruit Trees

 I've got several fruit trees that had never produced fruit. 

Well, that's not entirely true. Our first Summer and Autumn there were apricots on the tree. One of the cats would climb the tree and play with the apricots like those dangly cat toys until he knocked them off and then the dog would carefully place them between his front paws and lick them down to the stone. All before they came ripe.

We didn't get any more fruit for the next six or seven years. 

There were lots of theories and wisdom offered as to why.

So one year, as I pruned it, I told the tree it was its last chance. If I didn't get any fruit next season, I'd be cutting it down. 

Next season and each season since, there have been plenty of apricots. 

So I tried the same thing on my feijoa trees this year. I've never had fruit on them in the eleven years we've been here. 

Until now.

It's very late in the season, and I'd given up on seeing anything on them a couple of months ago. 

Hubby and I were going past them on our way to ready the borrowed ram to go back home. As we were walking past the feijoas, Hubby said "what's that?" Pointing to a large feijoa on the ground. 

Looking up at the tree, we saw lots more in various sizes. On both trees.

There's certainly something to be said for threatening fruit trees.