So here is what became of our Marlahan Mustard [Dyer's Woad] yarn….
The green part is dyed with the seeds, the beige with the flowers.
I enjoyed a day or two of petting it, and then put a price tag on it and took it to the farmer's market with me.
Now, here's where the magic happened...
A few people came by and admired it and I told them its story. They were amazed and amused. You see, Marlahan Mustard is a real pain in the patoot to a lot of ranchers and farmers in these parts. People have strong opinions about it. Some people even have personal vendettas, and pull the stuff up whenever possible. I even heard firsthand from a friend this week that his wife even goes on their neighbor's property and pulls the plants because she hates them so much. She is now in ill health and he doesn't want her wandering around pulling weeds, so he does it for her.
One of the reasons some people really hate it, is that evidently not only is it invasive, it puts out chemicals that actually prevent other plants from germinating wherever it grows. Now, that's just plain nasty. I must agree.
Anyway, back to our story. After the little bag had been fondled and talked about several times, who should come wandering up to my table but A. When I explained about dying the yarn with Marlahan Mustard, she lit up like a Christmas tree. SHE was on a committee to start a Marlahan Mustard festival and awareness event of some kind. She had even composed a SONG about the noxious weed, which she promptly performed for me on the spot!
Needless to say, she had to have the little bag and I had to say goodbye to it. But here's the thing, I am just so amazed at how certain bags are just 'made' for certain people. It has become a source of joy and wonder to see who will choose what, from my humble wares. I feel a bit like I am making things ahead of time, just to the specifications that will delight someone I don't even know yet. It's magical.
I feel so blessed.
So if you ever come to the market of a friday afternoon, you'll know where to find me. I'll be where people are singing songs about noxious weeds.
Shhhhh….*****Don't tell anyone, but you know, I feel a little bit like I'm living in Bogwillow*****
The green part is dyed with the seeds, the beige with the flowers.
I enjoyed a day or two of petting it, and then put a price tag on it and took it to the farmer's market with me.
Now, here's where the magic happened...
A few people came by and admired it and I told them its story. They were amazed and amused. You see, Marlahan Mustard is a real pain in the patoot to a lot of ranchers and farmers in these parts. People have strong opinions about it. Some people even have personal vendettas, and pull the stuff up whenever possible. I even heard firsthand from a friend this week that his wife even goes on their neighbor's property and pulls the plants because she hates them so much. She is now in ill health and he doesn't want her wandering around pulling weeds, so he does it for her.
One of the reasons some people really hate it, is that evidently not only is it invasive, it puts out chemicals that actually prevent other plants from germinating wherever it grows. Now, that's just plain nasty. I must agree.
Anyway, back to our story. After the little bag had been fondled and talked about several times, who should come wandering up to my table but A. When I explained about dying the yarn with Marlahan Mustard, she lit up like a Christmas tree. SHE was on a committee to start a Marlahan Mustard festival and awareness event of some kind. She had even composed a SONG about the noxious weed, which she promptly performed for me on the spot!
Needless to say, she had to have the little bag and I had to say goodbye to it. But here's the thing, I am just so amazed at how certain bags are just 'made' for certain people. It has become a source of joy and wonder to see who will choose what, from my humble wares. I feel a bit like I am making things ahead of time, just to the specifications that will delight someone I don't even know yet. It's magical.
I feel so blessed.
So if you ever come to the market of a friday afternoon, you'll know where to find me. I'll be where people are singing songs about noxious weeds.
Shhhhh….*****Don't tell anyone, but you know, I feel a little bit like I'm living in Bogwillow*****