Funny thing about dyeing, especially of the botanical sort; things so often go awry. Last week, I very carefully rolled up some botanicals that were leftover from a flower bouquet. Eucalyptus (of the little round sort and apparently not of the dyeing sort) and a whole bunch of runuculus petals of a delightful orange.
The cloth was well mordanted and I rolled real careful like India Flint says. The ideal was to let it sit for a month or so. "Ahem," thinks meself,"I'll steam them." I also sort of ignored the part about pressing the leaves for a while. I clearly didn't have the tape wrapped around my classes tight enough.
It was a busy day and evening with the nearly-weds arriving and the bridal shower on Saturday. There were jokes about what Mom is cooking and naked fear on the face of the son who was afraid it was some kind of icky sausage he'd be expected to eat.
Miss Bess and I lay foot-to-foot on the sofa that evening gabbing away. I really REALLY thought that I'd turn the pot off.
Well, not so much. Burnt bundle bottom. I let it soak outside till Sunday, opened it up and discovered nothing much had happened.
But in the spirit of transparency and the hopes that you realize that this blog is for real and not being carried about by fairies. I offer this story.
We are off to NYC for a long weekend old friends. Back on Tuesday (or Monday if I'm feeling energetic).