Skinned Lobsters

Day 31: Given that it requires equal weights of dyestuff to wool, I probably won't be doing any dyeing with lobster skins until next year. "Lobster skins?" I hear someone ask with a degree of horror and revulsion in their words. Yes, lobster skins, as in Hypomyces lactifluorum, the fungal overgrowth which is commonly found on Russula species mushrooms here in the Pacific Northwest. I gathered two batches this year with a project in mind, pared the Hypomyces layer off with a pocket knife and dried it in the dehydrator until it was crisp. The yield measured about two-thirds of a quart and probably weighs less than an ounce, definitely not enough to dye sufficient wool to make a me-sized pair of socks. I have already spun the wool (soft, silky Corriedale) and am working on more. By using different mordants, this dyestuff will yield orange, yellow or purple. Now comes the question: Do I want to wear lobster skins on my feet? Well, you'll have to admit that would be one helluva conversation starter!

Perhaps I'll Dye Naturally

Day 302: We finally had a day this summer which fell into my classification of "perfect for hiking,"  i.e., mid-60s and cloudy with no chance of a shower. Once again, I chose a trail close to home, but had no particular destination in mind although I was sure one would suggest itself before I'd gone very far. I wasn't planning to be out more than an hour or two, not with a new project on the loom begging for my attention, so I packed light: water bottle, some Cheezits, toilet paper, a rain jacket just in case the weather forecase was wrong, and my trusty camera. I did not think about it being August, did not think to include the "perhaps bag" (avoska) which qualifies as the 11th Essential for autumn hikes. About a mile in, I spotted the first Lobster. "Oh!" I said aloud. "Perhaps I can dye naturally," speaking, of course, in reference to my handspun yarn. Although many people disagree with me, I don't consider Lobsters desirable for the table. However, as previously noted, I had not brought a perhaps bag, so I passed Lobster #1 by. In another tenth of a mile or so, I came across six or seven more, some a bit past prime. And then a quarter mile further in, I spotted another really nice one. This was a bit more than I could be expected to ignore even temporarily, so I dumped my TP out of its baggie and popped the Lobster inside, thinking I'd have plenty of room for the others I'd seen and planned to collect on the way back. And that was it. There were no more Lobsters to be seen when I arrived at "halfway" and reversed my course. When I got back to the site of the half dozen, I brushed the soil and forest debris off one and pulled it up. It was much bigger than I'd expected, and wouldn't fit in the bag with the first one I'd collected. Now committed to a course of action, I decided my light rain jacket would have to stand in as a perhaps bag. By the time I finished harvesting from that patch, my daypack was half full! Because I knew there were no others beyond the first one I'd seen when I began my hike, I veered off onto a spur trail to get back to the parking area, and lo and behold, I found half a dozen more. At this point, I'd stuffed my pack to the point that I could barely close the zipper (the photo shows about half my haul). When I got home, I pared off the orange outer layer (the parasitic Hypomyces lactifluorum which is the dyeing agent) and discarded the remains of the host Russulas beneath the big Doug-fir in my front yard where they're welcome to proliferate. Then I stuck the parings in the dehydrator for four hours at 130 degrees for a yield of roughly a pint of loosely packed dyestuff. I'll need a lot more before I can even dye a 1-ounce skein of wool, but Lobsters are plentiful locally. And next time I'm out, I'll have a perhaps bag with me.

Dyeing To Try This

Day 294: I've been dying to try this: trying to dye this Blue-Faced Leicester wool with unsweetened Kool-aid. It seems to be a popular way to break into the science of dyeing, and one which gives surprisingly good, non-fading results. Chemical dyes require dedicated equipment, whereas Kool-aid dyeing can be done with your regular kitchenware, using either a Crock-pot or a microwave oven. I opted for the microwave version. I presoaked three ounces of BFL (a stray skein of handspun I found in my stash) in six cups of room temperature tap water for about 20 minutes, agitating it lightly halfway through. Then I gently removed the wool from the water and added two packets of "blue raspberry lemonade" Kool-aid. I chose it because it was the only flavour available to me which wouldn't have resulted in pink yarn! Since the drink powder already contains citric acid, there was no need to mordant the yarn. After replacing the wool in the cup, I heated it in the microwave for two minutes on high, then gently moved the yarn around, taking care not to handle it too roughly for fear of felting. After repeating the process twice more, all the dye had been absorbed. Once it has cooled to room temp again, I'll give it a light rinse with a little Dawn, and hang it out to dry. The colour will undoubtedly lighten as it dries, but will still be a lovely permanent shade of light aqua blue.

Youth And Middle Age

Day 94: Platismatia glauca, known commonly as Ragbag for its soft feel, is in its early growth phase a light olive green (top). As the lichen matures, its colour fades to a bluish-grey (bottom), and in the later part of its life cycle, develops a pinkish tinge. It is one of the lichens commonly used in the dyeing of handspun wool and is said to give shades from light tan to brown. Although I've never dyed any of my handspun yarn, Platismatia glauca is quite abundant in our area and would be one of the options I would consider. It would be interesting to experiment with it in different growth phases to see if the dye quality changes with the colour of the lichens used.

These specimens were windfall, literally. The storm which took out my power a few days ago left my yard littered with small branches and a few rather large ones. I doubt I could harvest enough Platismatia from them to dye a skein of wool, although it's a tempting thought.

Usnea Longissima, Nature's Garland

Day 51: I have quite a few "favourite" lichens. I mean, it's hard to choose a single one from over 1000 species (not counting subspecies) present right here in the Pacific Northwest, but Usnea longissima pretty much tops the list. It is Nature's version of a Christmas garland, its long strands unbranched and sometimes growing (in my personal observation) up to fifteen feet long. At Rainey Creek, it festoons many of the trees close by the water, dwindling in occurrence the farther one goes from the creek banks, as it is quite sensitive to air pollution and prefers the circulation afforded by proximity to moving water. Like other Usneas, it can be used to dye wool and cotton, and the current popularity of home dyeing with natural materials is leading to a decline in Usneas in some areas. Even as abundant as it is at Rainey Creek, I will not collect it. I prefer to observe, admire and enjoy Lichen Christmas all year 'round.

Letharia Vulpina

Day 240: Coming back from Yakima, I had already called for a "botany break." A little later, my companions decided to stop at the viewpoint for a lovely terraced waterfall and we were all heading down the trail together when a clump of distinctly chartreuse lichen on the ground caught my eye. All thoughts of scenic views evaporated in an instant, and as Maureen and Kosette proceeded to the overlook, I dropped to my knees to study it. Then looking up, I saw more colonies of it on the bark of several trees, much better specimens than the sorry and sodden example I had first noticed. However, the ones on the tree were well out of reach even with my arms extended over my head. Glad that I had left the macro filter on the camera, I snapped this photo without being able to tell if it was in focus or not. A sample taken from the clump on the ground confirmed the identification: Letharia vulpina, one of the "wolf lichens" used to dye textiles.