“Would you like to see them?” she asked.
It took some fumbling on my part and a lot of fussing and inaccurate directions on Geneva’s part before I was able to spring the latch my grandfather had made and swing the cupboard door open and see the deep blue he’d painted inside and the lovely words. And to find the dye journals my grandmother kept there. I could hardly breathe. I wasn’t sure I wanted to touch them.
“I haven’t contaminated them, you know,” Geneva said. “I’m dead but I try not to spread it around.”
There were three of them. I took them out. They were warm and dry and ordinary, like any of the other binders
Granny used for her records. She had always been a meticulous documenter. She’d kept detailed notes of her dye recipes, their variations, and her experiments with different materials, mordants, and means. Her journals were filled with samples of dried dyestuff and fibers. Were these journals really any different?
I took them over to the desk, sat down, and flipped one open at random to a recipe with the heading
Calming Chamomile for Colic: soft yellow, sleeping babe
. Hmm. Okay. I flipped to another page and read,
Goldenseal to Heal: antibacterial material
. I glanced through the recipe itself but didn’t see anything outlandish. No magic words. No woo-woo for the wool. But.
But what? Did Granny use these recipes and believe they worked? Did that make her
a bit of a witch
?
Geneva watched me struggle with that. A ghost was watching me try to think through the confusion of finding my grandmother’s secret dye journals—the dye journals that, in the words of the letter my dear, daft grandmother left for me to read upon her death, would
reveal all.
This really wasn’t the life I’d expected to be living at this point in my career as a textile preservation specialist.
Geneva clucked and sighed and told the cat I was suffering untold sorrows. I decided I probably was and wondered if Granny had a dye recipe to deal with that small problem. Maybe something that took care of disbelief, indecision, the collywobbles, and the jimjams all in one blow. Preferably in a color that complemented my stark raving red hair. I flipped to another page and read,
Dandelion: for the person who suffers from everything
.
“What are you laughing at?” Geneva asked. “You sound like a lunatic and you’re upsetting Argyle.”
“Who?” I laughed.
“Argyle,” she said. “Our cat.”
I quit laughing. “Oh my gosh.”
The cat stretched and yawned and stood up in the window seat. He shivered his tail and let me scoop him up in my arms.
“Is your name Argyle?” I asked.
And then we finally had our dye workshop. It was Debbie’s idea and a bright, beautiful one at that. We gathered the next Sunday morning in the kitchen at the Weaver’s Cat, where Granny had for so many years set pots to steam and steep and she’d hung her skeins of yarn and lengths of wool roving to drip and dry. Debbie arrived early with gallon jars of vibrant colors. She wore one of her swirling denim skirts and looked brighter, more herself, than she had in recent weeks.
She set skeins of undyed wool to soak in the double sink and then directed Joe and Thea in setting up a long folding table beside the kitchen table and covering both with heavy plastic. When they’d finished, Ardis laid three parallel strips of plastic wrap down each table’s length. Ernestine stayed out of the bustle, perched on a tall stool, looking less mole-like than usual and more like a fluffed and inquisitive owl.
“No fishing today?” I asked Joe.
“A day is full of hours,” he said and went to open the back door for Mel, who came burdened with an insulated carafe in one hand and a bakery bag and another carafe in the other.
John followed Mel in. He carried a tray of sandwiches from the café for lunch. I was glad to see more spring in his old step than he’d had when he left our debriefing breakfast at Mel’s.
The kitchen was large enough to hold the two tables and the eight of us. Plus a ghost and a cat. Geneva and Argyle sat next to each other on top of the refrigerator, happy in
each other’s company and happy to watch. We hadn’t advertised the workshop, thinking of it as a day of fellowship for the members of TGIF who had been involved in the investigation, a day for renewal and celebration.
It turned out to be a day with surprises, too. While we pulled on rubber gloves before dipping into cups and pots of color, a knock came at the back door and Debbie’s cousin, Darla the Deputy, stepped in. She wasn’t in uniform, but even so, a little chill of unease came into the room with her. Until she smiled.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said with a question in her voice. “Debbie told me she was doing this here today, and, well, I don’t know if you all know what my last name is. Debbie does. But it’s Dye. I’m Darla Dye and I’d like to try my hand at it.”
Ardis and Joe moved down, making room for Darla. Debbie brought out another pair of gloves.
“It’s not a full house yet,” Geneva said from the top of the fridge. She raised her arm and pointed out the window over the sink. For a brief moment of panic, I was afraid the Spivey twins had tailed Darla and discovered what we were doing. I controlled the panic, though, and ever so nonchalantly sidled over to surreptitiously peek out the window in the back door…And there on the stoop was Sylvia, silver hair swinging at her chin, another pretty scarf at her neck, and with a plate of brownies.
“I came to the back door because that’s what friends do,” she said.
It became another day best remembered in snippets and impressions—and appropriately so because the hand-painted dye method Debbie showed us produced lengths of yarn as fluid with color as impressionist paintings.
Sylvia had decided she needed closure. She’d made gooey, fudgy brownies and driven over the mountains
from Asheville. Ardis doled out one of her honeysuckle hugs to her and found yet another pair of rubber gloves. Ernestine got as much dye on herself and the sleeves of Thea’s sweatshirt as on her yarn. Neither of them seemed to care. John worked mostly in blues and greens, maybe dreaming of deep water and green hills and hollows. Joe said he’d give the yarn he meticulously painted in even stripes of olive and tan to Cole for his birthday. Mel brought out a white apron and had everyone add splashes of color to it.
And I stood at the stove, occasionally giving the wool in my dye kettle a stir, as happy watching the others as Geneva and Argyle from their refrigerator aerie. I’d actually told a convincing lie about the kettle, saying I was trying one of the dye recipes in the book Bonny donated to the library in Granny’s memory.
“How’s it going over there?” Debbie called.
“Fine.” I hoped. I hadn’t been sure I would be brave enough for this—trying one of Granny’s secret recipes. I wasn’t even sure it was bravery that I needed. But as soon as I’d seen the subtitle Granny added to her aloe dye, I knew that I was going to do it.
Geneva floated down from the refrigerator and hovered over the kettle. Argyle thumped to the floor after her and came to twine around my ankles.
“It’s pretty,” Geneva said. “I like pink. I hope Bonny likes it.”
I hoped so, too.
Aloe Vera: for healing, protection, and affection,
Granny had written in her clear hand. It sounded like three magic wishes—healing, protection, and affection—three wishes for Bonny in the days, weeks, and months to come.
“How’s Argyle doing over there, hon?” Ardis called. “That’s a good name for a good cat.”
Argyle purred.
Catnip Mouse
Designed by Kate Winkler, Designs from Dove Cottage, for Molly MacRae’s Dyeing Wishes
MATERIALS
Worsted weight yarn, about 6 yards
Size 6 double-pointed needles
Wool roving or yarn scraps for stuffing
Tapestry needle
OPTIONAL MATERIALS
Catnip
Jingle bell
Crochet hook, size G (but see note below)
6–8 of dark yarn for eyes
Abbreviations
K = knit; st(s) = stitch(es); dpn(s) = double-pointed needle(s); kfb = knit in front and back of same stitch (increase); k2tog = knit two stitches together (decrease); R = round; ch = chain; sl st = slip stitch; sc = single crochet
I-CORD MOUSE TAIL
Cast on 4 stitches. Do not turn work. Slide stitches to the other end of needle; bring yarn across back of work, and k4, beginning with the first st you cast on.
*Slide sts to other end of needle, bring yarn across back of work, and k4.
Repeat from * for 3 inches, or desired tail length.
Note that the same side of the work will face you throughout. As you work more rounds of I-cord, you will see that you are knitting a narrow tube.
Alternative: You may work the tail using a knitting spool (aka “knitting Nancy” or “French knitter”), and transfer the stitches to dpns when it is time to increase for the body of the mouse. That way a young child who doesn’t knit yet can help make the toy by spool-knitting the tail, with the body of the mouse knitted by an older child or adult.
Increase for Body
R1: Slide stitches to other end of needle and kfb in first 2 sts. With third needle, kfb in remaining 2 sts–8 sts on 2 needles.
Turn work. You will now be working in the round, as you would for a sock.
R2: Kfb in first 2 sts. With fourth needle, kfb in next 2 sts. Kfb in next 2 sts. With fifth needle, kfb in last 2 sts–16 sts on 4 needles.
R3:
Kfb, k1, rep from
around—24 sts.
R4:
Kfb, k2, rep from
around—32 sts.
R5–14: K around.
Decrease for head
R15:
K2, k2tog, rep from
around—24 sts.
R16: K around.
R17:
K1, k2tog, rep from
around—16 sts.
R18: K around.
R19: K2tog around—8 sts.
R20: K around.
Stuff mouse with wool roving or bits of wool yarn. Add catnip or jingle bell in center of stuffing, if wanted.
R21: K2tog around—4 sts Break yarn, leaving a 4 tail. Thread tail in tapestry needle and sew through 4 remaining sts, removing them from needles. Run tail through sts a second time and bury tail in center of stuffing. Run cast-on tail through center of I-cord.
Note: From a cat’s perspective, you now have a fully functional cat toy. If you wish to add ears and/or eyes, you may; in my experience, however, cats are wholly indifferent to such details.
OPTIONAL EARS (MAKE 2)
With crochet hook and same yarn used for mouse, make a slipknot and ch 4. Join with a sl st in first ch. Ch 1, 4sc in center of ring. Sl st in center of ring and fasten off.
Sew ears to mouse’s head, even with first decrease round. Bury tails in stuffing.
OPTIONAL EYES
Using tapestry needle and contrasting yarn, make French knots or Xs for eyes. Bury tails in stuffing.
Chocolate Cake with Ganache
CAKE
Nonstick vegetable oil spray
Parchment paper
½ cup unsalted butter (cut into ½-inch cubes, room temperature)
¼ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
½ cup boiling water
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup sugar
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
¼ cup buttermilk
1 large egg
½ teaspoon vanilla
GANACHE
1 cup semisweet chocolate chips
3 tablespoons heavy whipping cream
2 tablespoons unsalted butter (cut into ½-inch cubes)
CAKE
Preheat oven to 350º F. Spray 9-inch cake pan with nonstick spray. Line with parchment. Spray parchment. Dust with flour, tapping out excess.
Put butter and cocoa in medium bowl. Pour ½ cup boiling water over mixture; stir. Let stand 2 minutes; whisk until blended. Whisk flour, sugar, baking soda, and salt in another medium bowl. Whisk buttermilk, egg, and vanilla in large bowl. Gradually whisk cocoa mixture
into buttermilk mixture; whisk until smooth. Add flour mixture in 3 additions, whisking to blend between additions (batter will be thin). Pour batter into prepared pan.
Bake cake until tester inserted in center comes out clean, about 30 minutes. Cool in pan 10 minutes. Run knife around pan edges to release cake. Invert onto rack; remove pan and parchment. Cool completely.
GANACHE