I've been dyeing to tell you . . .

. . . literally

I used some of my Christmas money to buy some undyed yarn and some real dye (read: not Kool-aid) to try dyeing some yarn myself. It arrived whilst we were house and cat sitting for mom, so all the pictures are from her kitchen. It has nothing to do with the size or equipment difference between the two - for those of you who might feel inspired to try this sometime - I just needed to be there for the cat who'd recently had surgery. So fear not, it's easy and fun, and if you're not me, not messy at all. I'm a little messy.

So here's how it went. My first attempt was "handpainted" merino doubleknit weight. I bought my yarn from Knitpicks, and the dye as well, for that matter.
So, I gathered my tools:






Some acid dyes, plastic wrap, empty pint jars, and a stainless steel pot with a steamer basket. I filled the pot with water and started heating it on the stove. Then I plunked the yarn into a sink full of water.



Once I had worked all of the air out of the yarn, I squeezed enough water out of it to keep it from dripping, and layed it out on some plastic wrap on the counter.



Then I mixed up my dyes: blue, teal, and brown. A tsp of blue and teal, in hot water and 3 tbsp. vinegar. 1/2 tsp of brown, in hot water and vinegar, for a lighter color.



And squirted them onto the yarn in sections, using a small squirt bottle, one color at a time. I left space between the brown and the teal because I didn't think the color they'd produce together would be one I wanted - the dyes spread during the setting process.



It was in the midst of this process that I began to think that gloves might be smart - acid dyes like these dye protein fibers, skin has protein, ergo they also dye skin. I decided I didn't really want smurf fingers, so I went and found some gloves, right after this happened:



Then I wrapped the yarn up in the plastic wrap and laid it in the steamer basket over boiling water to set the dye. I lined the basket with a couple paper towels, to spare the plastic wrap some of the heat, I'm not sure I needed to, but it didn't hurt anything.



Once it cooled a bit, I rinsed it until the water ran clear, and hung it up to dry in the shower. See how the colors spread and deepened?



Once it was dry, I wound it into a ball . . .



. . . so I could knit these - a pair of Knucks, and now I can type at work and not have cold hands.



Now that was a 100 g skein, only 52 g of which I used to make the mitts, so I'm trying to figure out what to do with the rest, not sure yet.

Now, there is another way to dye yarn. Which I tried another day. It involves a glass bowl, dye, water, vinegar and a microwave - or if I was doing this at the apartment (sans microwave) a pot on the stove, water, vinegar and dye. But the glass bowl made pretty pictures.



I put the dye powder in the water and vinegar. And thought perhaps that I should stir it, as I didn't want a more tie-dyed look for this yarn.



Then I added the wet yarn, and popped the bowl in the microwave, nuking it until the dye was "exhausted," in other words, the water bath was clear, or mostly clear. Then I had to let it rest a long time, because this was also merino, and not superwash. On top of that, it was fingering weight, which is thinner, and more likely to tangle and felt while it was wet. I dyed two skeins, one sort of a peach/salmon color, the second a green/teal mix. These are for lace projects for later. They are dry and sitting on top of the freezer, I haven't gotten a chance to wind them yet.

I dyed a third skein as well - this one superwash - a deep burgundy, for a pair of socks that I've been waiting to make. Aren't they pretty?

So that's what I was dyeing to tell you . . . there will be more - I have 4 more skeins of the merino double knit that I want to handpaint (probably socks, maybe a scarf) and two more skeins of the fingering weight to "pot dye" when I decide on colors.

Socks Rock!

As they were started after the Christmas knitting was finished, I'm going to start counting 2007's knitting completions with my green Monkey socks.


Yarn: Wool of the Andes, Forest Heather (Knitpicks)
Needles: #2's that may have belonged to my great grandmother
Modifications: only 4 pattern repeats up the leg, instead of 6, because I like shorter socks

And they keep the feets warm and toasty. I am through the first sock in two other patterns, they shouldn't take much longer.

In other news . . . I recently recieved an e-mail from a company that sells sock yarn. It began as follows:

SUCCESS IS SWEET . . . SO THEY SAY?!
Please read this for IMPORTANT credit card information.
The sign-up for the Rockin' Sock Club 2007 has been a resounding success. So much so that our bank thinks we are running some type of elaborate yarn scam and is refusing to accept our members' money! So, you know what they are doing? You are not going to believe this. They are sending all of that money back! Unbelievable and astounding!

You read that right - the bank though the incoming credit card payments must be fishy, and refunded all the payments, because there was no way this was actually about yarn. Now, I know most folks who come here and peruse my ramblings don't understand how addictive sock knitting can be. I'm not sure I quite understand myself, but having signed myself up for said Sock Club, I now have to resend my payment once their website is back up and running again, which is just a bit frustrating. Everything should be ok after that, thankfully.

I think this may become the year of the sock, for me. So there will likely be more sock pictures as I go. There should also be some lacey stuff, and who knows what else. I crave a little variety, but there's nothing, for me, like a small, portable, fairly quick to finish, decently challenging, and interesting project that becomes a useful object when I'm finished. And I love warm feet!

The Virginia Gray's Year End in Review

T'were the weeks before Christmas and all through th'apartment,
Two creatures kept stirring, to see time was well spent . . .

There was the Christmas knitting, of which I had not spoke,
Scarves and hand warmers for some beloved folk.

Striped scarf and fetching for the basketball star,
stylish yet practical, at least I hope that they are.



For the artist's chills, two pair-o-mitts and a scarf,
for when she's away from her home and her hearth.



For the mother who bore me, green mits for her hands,
though here in ol' Ginny there's less snow and more sands.



And when those were finished another project began,
with fabric and sewing machine, and needle in hand.

For the boy's mother, a window you see,
in the form of a lap quilt for her library.



For the sake of my sanity, I indulged just a bit,
a new pair of wool socks, that most likely would fit.



Christmas in Virginia was full with warmth and good cheer,
then we were bound for Indiana, to welcome the New Year.

There were basketball games, and much hollerin and hootin',
and while the refs weren't too "insightful," the girls had some good shootin'.



And with the sibs altogether for the first in a long while,
we spectated some wrestling that brought a big smile.



And now we are home, weary from long travels,
looking forward to this next year with all of it's revels.

No doubt these rhymes would make a certain uncle quite proud,
I hear the dryer's buzzer and it is quite loud.

All of this rhymin' leaves my head achin',
perhaps I should leave verse to him, and just stick to bakin'.

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year!

Q

News . . .

Ok, the good news is, as of last night, laying down my knitting and rolling over to go to sleep, I had finished the gray part of the boy sock . . . so today, I'll knock out the toe (for those who knit much, I'm rejoicing to be done with the k2p2 ribbing, and may not rib for a while, it's sooooooo slow!). The toe won't take me long, and then they'll be done.

In other good news, my other birthday present arrived today - sock blockers! I'll take pictures later, but they are currently re-stretching my beloved green wool ankle socks back into a shape that can contain my foot. For the record - accidently putting your 100% wool socks in the dryer is not good, but not insurmountable, but the process of bouncing back does cramp the toes a bit.

In yet more news, still good, the boy has begun trying to roast coffee - and his first attempt, in the little cast iron skillet on the grill, with a small bag of Columbian Supremo was a raging success in my opinion. He says there are things he can improve on, so I guess it will get even better from here! Mmmmm Java!

Bad Planning . . .

So that last post was supposed to lead to a new post a few days later . . . but as I said, the boy has size 15 feet.

And why, may you ask, is that important?

Because it's taking freakin' forever to finish his socks!!!!



This is the first boy sock, finished early in the fall. Right now the second boy sock has about three white bars to go before I reach the point where I can start the red toe. Count back from where the red joins the grey at the toe, one, two, three . . . that's about where I am.

Never again will I knit boy socks on size 2 needles!! I swear to goodness!

It hasn't been cold enough for him to need them but maybe once, but honestly, I just want to be done. And I like knitting socks!

Ahem . . .

The boy has size 15 feet . . . the importance of this will be revealed soon. There will not be a quiz.

Happy Thanksgiving

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. It's also Nov. 23. Dad would be 59 tomorrow. In honor of the fact that Thanksgiving is also Dad's Birthday, the ENTIRE family and assorted friends are gathering with us for Thanksgiving dinner - and since it's been a family tradition since long before I was born, we're having chocolate cake with chocolate icing for dessert. It's different, definitely not your typical pumpkin related pastry, but it's us. And with a crowd of 30ish, I'm making two of them.

Sadly, and perhaps ironically, I really don't like chocolate cake, but this is for dad's Birthday, and we didn't grow any collards this year, so we had to do something.

Happy Birthday Daddy. We love you.

Happy Thanksgiving everybody! I'm thankful for you, and all my other blessings.

Q

Yeah So . . .

I haven't posted much of great interest lately, or much lately at all.

To tell the truth I've hit a bit of a wall when it comes to ideas/concepts to discuss . . .

I do have lots I'd love to post about in the knitting/general craftiness category, but as all of them are Christmas presents, I'm left to document them now, and I'll post them after the first of the year.

I started doing this, way back when, because it would keep me writing, which I don't really like to do, and don't feel very good at. It certainly has helped, except for the great improvement part - just need to find something to talk about.

Inspiration is bound to strike soon.

Big Ball of Yarn

A few weeks ago the boy's parents came to visit us for a few days. I took them on a tour of the station, and we went down and had Rally's with the boy at the shop. They had fun checking out where we worked, and all in all it was a great visit. Thankfully for us, they didn't want to be kept entertained every minute of every day, so we could just relax and enjoy each other's company. It was really good to see them.

Now, about my title. The mother in law decided one afternoon that the fact that she'd been here three times now, and hadn't been to a thrift store was a crying shame. So I took her down to my favorite thrift store. We had a great time. She found 20 some odd Records (you know, that vinyl disc that our parents played music on??) straight out of the 80's for the sister in law to use for the upcoming spirit week at school. There was some great stuff in there. I on the other hand, knowing that I had $10 in my wallet, and that I could spend it, but not much more, decided to look for wool sweaters. I got three - none of which were big enough for me to wear, but that's not the point. We were going to unravel them.

Well, I came to find out, that two of them were made from such a fine gauge of yarn that trying to get them unraveled was a losing battle. Bless her heart, the mother in law worked to unravel one body section, but it came out in so many pieces, I'd be felting them back together forever. So I decided that that sweater and it's twin were a lost cause. Since we haven't touched the twin, I'll take it back as a donation, so someone can at least wear it.

But the larger of the three had a thicker yarn, and came apart beautifully. When I left for work Saturday night we'd undone the front and the back and one sleeve, and had three quite sizable balls of yarn. When I got home, the boy had finished unraveling the last sleeve, and had decided to take his new found knowledge of felting yarn together and make a GIANT BALL O'YARN!!!!



Isn't it cute? I'm thinking of knitting a pair of slippers for myself, and felting them so they're sturdy and warm. Whatever's leftover I'm going to save for a sweater project, when I find some more yarn for the illusive hooded sweater.

It's much thinner than the yarn I use alot right now see:



So it will knit up into a thinner, drapier fabric, and that means that the comparitive size of the ball makes for way, way, way more yardage. I'm excited. I will have to play this game again. The small green ball is about $3 of peruvian wool, nearly 200 yards. The big ball is about $3 of blue merino, unknown yardage.

Thoughts

"The most important thing about a person is what that person thinks when they think about God." A.W. Tozer

We often speak of the God of the Old Testament and the God of the New Testament, as if to say that they are separate beings. In our minds we juggle the concepts as they battle each other. We struggle to blend the image that the Old Testament portrays with the image portrayed in the New Testament - Holy and Just with a dash of jealous and vengeful vs. a loving Father who made the greatest sacrifice to save us. Who wins?

I know I tend to lean towards the Old Testament God when things are going well, figuring he's going to "get me" soon, like some sort of supernatural boogey man, and something bad will happen; I hope for the New Testament God when times are tougher, that he would come love on me.

But really - there's only one God! The 1001 rules God is the love and grace God. It almost doesn't make sense, but the thing of it is, it's true. There is only one God and He's never changed.

Now hold on just a second! How can that work? How can He be the one God and be the same "yesterday, today, and tomorrow?"

The answer lies in the fact that God does not exist in a vacuum: He created us so He could love someone - not something, like I love warm socks, but someone. And by loving someone he's created a relationship, and relationships are dynamic.

God is our father, and like a father's love must take different forms as a child grows and matures, God's dealings with us have changed as we grew more mature, and in order to cause us to mature.

With a toddler, you spend your every waking hour (it would seem) saying "No." I think of the 10 commandments and some of the subsequent laws as a long list of No's. As the child gets a little older they start applying this - imposing their own No's on others, even their parents. Hence the Pharisees and the Saducees and all the regulations added in our attempt to use what we thought was the right way to live.

But at some point a parent needs to break that cycle and show the child grace and a little trust, both because the child is maturing and ready to understand and to push the child to further mature. This is where we are in the New Testament and beyond - God is now the father of a teenager/young adult - we screw up a lot, but we're beyond the spanking stage. Now he must love us until we learn the ways of that love.

It's not God who has changed, it's us. But we're still in that teenager/young adult stage - we're conflicted and we only accept things in parts. We still try to impose regulations where we shouldn't; we go too far in love sometimes and allow ourselves to do things we shouldn't. We get angry and sullen when we're frustrated. We try to do damage to ourselves. We try to fix some of our problems on our own, so we won't have to own up to them. We're on the cusp of beginning maturity, we're complicated, and we're loved.

And we think that we are the only constant in the equation, but we are constantly changing - He's always been the same.

A visit

The boy's parents are spending a few days with us this week. We just hung out this morning, as all of us were feeling restful. They got in pretty late last night, and they were not happy because some of their luggage hadn't made it here with them. We got that today, so now all is well.

Tomorrow I think we're going out to lunch, and then I'm going to show them around the station. Then later we're going down to take the boy some dinner, and have a mini tailgate party down at the shop.

It took us a little work to get the apartment back in to "company" shape, but it's nice to be all neatened up now. Hopefully, I'll have good tales to relate after the visit.

I have a desk again!!!!!

We were so productive this weekend, it was great! We cleaned out the second bedroom, and claimed the desks that my grandmother had wanted to give us. No more big scary project looming over our heads, and now there's a place for the boy's folks to sleep when the come tomorrow night. Ah, motivation.

I'm so happy to have a desk again!!!

Playtime

We do not stop playing because we grow old.
We grow old because we stop playing. - Anon.

Besides my impatience in waiting to play with some of the new features offered by Blogger in Beta, my goal with this blog re-design was to make the site more conversational - to tie together a community of blogs and comments. So to start things off, I'm branching off of a friend's blog.

Sure, at a certain age, our bodies get too old for certain activities, but somehow, I don't think we were made to stop playing in some fashion. - Hanski

And she certainly has a point.

When do we reach an age where we are too important for play? And perhaps more importantly, why does the thought possess us that we're too old to play anymore? I believe it must occur around the same time that we lose all of our youthful bravado and confidence in ourselves. So, for most of us, middle school. We are suddenly caught up in trying to fit into someone else's mold of coolness or perfection, and we let go of anything that stands in the way of our fitting in. There's an element of depression to it, as we cast aside parts of ourselves, parts we loved and valued, and feel embarrassed that we ever loved them. It kills the spirit.

And with that our sense of fun, our love of play is gone. Sometimes forgotten. We can look back and wax nostalgic about the joys of our childhood. We can deny that which we find embarassing (I used to own Barbies, for example, don't die of shock).

Or perhaps we can latch back into our playful side - and start having fun again. We can start up regular games of ultimate frizbee. We can indulge our imagination with books that are far below our reading level, but have the kind of innocent creativity lacking in most adult fiction. We can spend as much time as possible playing with children - inspire our inner child. We can try hard not to squash the imaginative fun of future generations.

Or we can shamelessly watch old episodes of the Muppet Show - it still makes me giggle. Yes, I giggle.

Nuggets

-The Shower Experiment-
The new Scrubbing Bubbles Automatic Shower cleaner is a wonderful invention. I know, I bought one . . . for an experiment. The plan was to use the two bottles of cleaning solution up and see what we thought. If we didn't think it worked, such is life. If we didn't like the solution, I had a substitute to try. Well, the device works pretty well, and though it doesn't cover every square inch of our rectangular tub/shower it does hit the toughest spots and help keep them clean, so I don't have to devote an hour and some serious sweat equity to cleaning the shower. However, the solution they made for it, sucks. That's not to say that it doesn't get rid of the mechanic's grime and mildew - it does. But I'm not sure I can say it leaves the shower clean. If I stood in the bathroom while it sprayed the shower, my face would burn for a good three hours afterwards. The cleaner built up on the boy's soap and got in his eyes - he wasn't happy. I'm not a fan of having to clean up after my cleaner. So, I rinsed out the bottle and filled it with white vinegar - shower's still clean, and nobody's getting burned. Do you think I could convince them to sell the sprayer with an empty bottle? Didn't think so.

-Cleaner Laundry-
On another vinegar related note - I'm also a big fan of the Downy Ball - for delivering the white vinegar to my laundry after the wash cycle is over. I own two downy balls (the apartment building has two washers) but I've never bought Downy in my life, and I probably never will.

-Spiders-
Spiders are great - so long as they are outside where they belong. The same goes for crickets, but roaches get to die anytime I see them.

-Protestants-
I have joined the ranks. As one who was "sprinkled" as an infant, one of the steps for me to join the church that the boy and I have grown so fond of was an adult baptism. So I got dunked Sunday - I'm a protestant now.

-Knitting-
I've been doing a good bit of it lately. Sorry there are no pictures, I should take some. However, since the vast majority of my work lately has been for Christmas presents I can't post some pics 'til later. I have been playing with Kool Aid dying - man if that isn't fun! The colors are great, and there's no wet wool smell. There was, however, the faint scent of cherries.

-Stairs-
Are not really my friends. I have trouble walking up and down them successfully. But, on the upside, I now have this stylish, sophisticated, sexy little black ankle brace that is making my left ankle feel so much better. How much talent does it take to twist both ankles but only sprain one of them? That's how much talent I've got right now.

-Health Food-
Yeah, so I'm not a fan of "Health Food." And those so called "healthy options" like artificial sweeteners, artificial butter etc . . . yeah, keyword: artificial. Artificial = Bad. It's funny though - I must be turning into an adult; I'm choosing to eat healthier and I actually like it. I've basically stopped drinking soda. I prefer coffee or iced tea. I've found that I like the taste of brown rice and whole wheat pasta over their bleached counterparts. I love vegetables, even ones I used to avoid. I've even craved salads - for me that's wierd. I'm still a fan of chocolate, cake, and cheese flavored potato chips, so I guess the world is not completely on it's ear.

-State of the World-
Speaking of which, what is up with the world lately? I mean really - three school shootings in less than two weeks? And this last sicko?? Guns, zip ties, KY?? Seriously! And while it amuses me greatly that tonights 90 minutes of news included a school shooting, adjustable breast implants, and the Illinois bathroom Jesus - I'm really tired of stories about school shootings. How about we just talk about the bathroom Jesus for a while.

So . . . that's what's been going on in my head . . . my apologies if you read all of it - take a tylenol.

A New Neighbor

We have a new neighbor. She took up residence in our kitchen window the other day, and I intend to leave her there, as long as she wishes to remain. She is a barn spider, araneas cavaticus, and since I was raised in this country as one of the last members of generation X, that means I am compelled to call her Charlotte A. Cavatica, so I do.
Meet Charlotte.

I took the picture, and then scoured the internet to find out what kind of spider she was, before I could decide on a name for her. Charlotte had come to mind at first, but I wanted to know what she was, in hopes of a less cliched name for her. No such luck, once I saw the latin name, I was stuck. But it suits her I think.
Isn't she pretty? I love the way her legs fade to a redder hue near her body. I wish I could get a picture of what she looks like with the light in the window behind her at night, but the camera wasn't doing so good at getting a good exposure with a shutter speed fast enough to fight my unsteady hand. But I still think she's pretty.

More Adventures in Baking

To continue on the baking theme . . . I did bake a few loaves of sourdough the other day, I just didn't get a chance to post pics because I ran out of time.
After adding flour and water to the starter, I had a dough ball

This I kneaded, and let rise for one hour. Then I folded it like a letter twice, and let it rise for another hour. Another set of letter folds and it was left to rise for a couple hours. I then formed it into a round loaf and placed it upside down in a colander lined with a towel. After another three hours or so, I carefully turned this out onto a baking sheet and put it in the oven. This made a loaf of bread.

I'm not entirely satisfied with the process, neither it's length or how the bread turned out - I don't like my crust that dark - but the bread tastes just fine.
Next time I think I'm going to forego the round loaf and make the loaves in my bread pans, for easier sandwich construction. Also, I'm going to turn down the heat in the oven a bit, and bake a little longer, which will make a less burnt looking crust.
I ended up with four loaves of bread from that baking day and we already had one in the freezer from some I'd made earlier - so I won't need to bake again for a little while. Now I'm trying to decide what to make next.
Whatever I do, the next baking day needs to include some more ciabatta - or chewbacca bread (the boy "re-named" it) - for sandwich buns. It makes a great panini, and we're betting it would be good as texas toast and hamburger buns.

A Surprise Today

I decided, that while I was over at mom's doing laundry, I would take the camera and peruse the garden for interesting things to shoot.
Well, mom's surprise lilies were up - we're not positive what they are, or how they got there, but they're pretty so we don't complain. See?


Well, this particular surprise lily included an added surprise, you might have noticed it in the last picture, but I managed to snap a better one . . . the lily had a little friend!

And just for flavor, I just want to share . . . A warm, soft, fluffy towel that smells lightly of lavender just makes a day so much better, even if it's already good.

A small lesson learned

1Today we remember as a country. We remember a day when we all felt the pain of a now iconic tragedy that struck us from behind when we weren't looking.Yesterday we remembered as a family. We remembered a day when we felt the pain of a still somewhat fresh tragedy that struck us from behind when we least expected it.Today is the five year anniversary of the plane crashes on September 11th. Yesterday was the six month anniversary of my dad's death.
And I've been thinking today, about pain and tragedy, in an altogether not depressing or morose context. I'm feeling incredibly blessed to have not experienced the numbing pain of a major tragedy too early on in life. I feel like I was spared that depth of painful experience until I was mature enough to handle it. One never thinks oneself capable of handing the pain before it happens, I certainly never would have guessed I could. And yet, I think of all of the versions of me that I've been as I've grown up, and I'm glad it's the post-freshman-year-of-college me that's been faced both with the tragedy of 9/11 and with the loss of my dad. The other me's weren't ready for that. God is good.
After the towers fell I felt tired and numb for a few days. I didn't know what or how to think, and I felt like napping a lot. Now I can look back and see some of the good that has come out of it all, though I still don't know quite what to think about all of it.
After I found out dad had died, God and I had a very animated conversation in my truck, in the Home Depot parking lot. Then I had mom to look after, and there were certainly tears, but I had something to do, I had a "mission" of sorts. Now I look back, and 7 out of 10 times, I smile. Sometimes I still cry. Like today.
I can't even hazard a guess as to what would have happened to the pre-college me, in this type of situation . . . I'm just glad I'm the me I am now. Like I said, God is good.
___________________________________________________________________1. I have yet to go to bed, so it is still today, despite the fact that it is past midnight.

Baking Day

Not too much going on in the gardening arena, and nothing to photograph of the knitting projects right now . . . but I did bake today. I also cleaned the bathroom, but that's not half as exciting, even to me.

So I decided a couple days ago to make a Ciabatta (Italian for slipper, bakenese for crusty italian bread with lots of holes in it)

This process starts with a biga

Meet Biga:



After a day or so, that's what happens to a small amount of flour, water and yeast, left in an oiled bowl.

So I mixed that with some more flour, water, and a little more yeast. Then I put it back in the oiled bowl to rise. This is when I went and cleaned the bathroom, made the bed, put away the laundry, and finally got out of my pj's. After a couple hours, I poured the blob out on the bread board, and poked it and stretched it so it finally looked like this, when I put it on the cookie sheet:

After another hour and a half or so, it looked like this:

Then it went in to a very hot oven, and came out like this:

Meanwhile, I had to bring a fan into the kitchen, because it was getting quite warm. I let the loaf cool a bit, and then sliced into it:

After that I decided it was time for lunch:

Nevermind the fact that it was around four o'clock. I had breakfast around noonish, so it worked out nicely. So, I noshed on fresh bread dipped in olive oil and balsamic vinegar, olives stuffed with garlic cloves, hardboiled eggs, and carrots while I put these pictures on the laptop. It was a good day.

Sourdough Saga

I'm making a new sourdough starter - so this time I thought I'd document its growth.

Day 1: 9/2

Added - 120g organic whole wheat flour, 120g water
Removed - nothing
Aroma - wet wheat
Consistency - a moistened and stiff dough



Day 2: 9/3

Directions - there will be no visible change in the color or texture of the starter. Do nothing.

This was the day we spent up on the Northern Neck helping my grandparents, I have no pictures, though I assume it looked much like it did day 1, maybe a little bigger.


Day 3: 9/4



Removed - 120g starter (approx half the original amount) before feeding
Aroma - slightly wheaty, with an unknown note
Consistencey - a moist dough
Added - 60g flour, 60g water



Day 4: 9/5

(no before picture, my apologies)

Removed - 120g starter (approx half the original amount) before feeding
Aroma - cheese, more specifically, white cheddar cheese puffs
Consistency - thick pancake batter
Added - 60g flour, 60g water



Day 5: 9/6



Removed - 120g starter (approx half the original amount) before feeding
Aroma - Cheese with a trace of fresh paint
Consistency - thick pancake batter
Added - 60g flour, 60g water



"You will now have about 1 cup of active starter. (You may feel the impulse to give it a name. Give in to it . . .)"

If anyone would like to suggest a good name for my starter, I'd appreciate it. I want to give it an interesting name. Now I must keep feeding it daily for two weeks.

For the record - I have been working from "The Bread Bible" by Rose Levy Beranbaum.