Another Avocado in My Salad

The solar-dyed, avocado pit- and skin-dyed gift basket I recently completed sold within minutes of me posting it on social media. It wasn't even in my Etsy shop yet. I wasn't done with the similarly dyed treats I planned to include in the basket.

My social media erupted with inquiries. Everyone wanted me to make another one. Immediately. No one seems to understand how long solar- and avocado-dying takes!

I began natural dyeing in 2013. I added avocado skins and pits to the dye menu that December. Although I gave up on most natural dyeing after a couple of years (because the colors fade too fast), I've never stopped avocado pit- and skin-dyeing.

When I first began dyeing (with professional commercial dyes, and possibly as far back as 2009), I used a skein of cheap black acrylic yarn to tie my hanks of thread and yarn. Within a couple of years, I realized I could use the prepared-for-dyeing (PFD) cotton yarn as ties, then after a couple of years, make something creative with all the dyed ties.

It took a couple of years of dyeing to have enough ties to create my first "leftovers" scarf. It's going to take longer to make another ball of avocado-dyed hank ties big enough to make a basket.

For the last few years as a full-time caregiver, including four pandemic years of full-time working at home as well as full-time caregiving, there wasn't a whole lot of time for dyeing. I kept an avocado dye jar going most of the time because it can sit in the living room window to absorb sunlight all year long. It takes six to nine months to extract the pigment, and it can take another six months for fabric, thread or yarn to absorb the dye.

Avocados have off and on been a regular part of my family's diet. But with only two people in my household for the last seven years, it takes a while to build up enough skins and pits to dye one hank of thread or yarn. I sometimes will use a second or third dip in a dye pot to obtain lighter shades, and some of the second and third dips have required second and third dips to soak up enough pigment to even be noticeable. I've heard some dyers estimate it takes them a year to save up enough skins and/or pits to dye one hank of yarn.

I've considered a couple of times asking one of my favorite restaurants if I can pick up their discarded skins and pits at the end of the day once in a while. You can freeze the (cleaned) pits as long as needed until you are ready to grind them up for dye, but you need to get them in the freezer same day. Skins, however, need to be processed a little more quickly. So, you can't ask a restaurant to save up a week's worth of discards. The skins and pits in a bucket for a day is pushing the limits of viability.

Now that I'm on my own, I could ask if I could pick up pits and skins each night... But that would entail the commitment of at least the next couple of hours each time I obtain dye material cleaning and processing said dye material.

All avocado meat (the tasty green inside) must be removed. If you miss even a tiny bit, that can cause the dye jar to mold. It also causes the dye to turn brown instead of that lovely shade of brownish pink everyone craves.

I have a kitchen scrub brush I use to clean my pits and skins. I have to be very gentle with the skins. Too good a scrubbing can shred them before all the green yummy has been removed, and the small pieces are even more difficult to clean. Ask me how I know that...

I bought a cheap blender years and years ago to grind up my avocado pits. I grind on the porch, and the blender gets stored in the garagge, so no chance it will ever be accidentally used in food prep. One of the standard, all encompassing dye rules is never reuse any of your tools for food preparation once you've used them for dyeing. None of my dye tools ever get stored in the kitchen.

To grind pits, it takes about four to five hours total because the frozen pits I have saved (usually for about a year) to thaw. The extraction process is messy, and clean-up takes a bit. Once the dye jar has enough ground pits in it for a single hank of yarn or thread, the dye jar sits in sunlight from six to nine months, sometimes longer. The longer you wait, the deeper and richer the hue will be.

Skins take about 30 minutes to clean and tear into small pieces (usually one or two avocados at a time), and this cleaning needs to be done fairly quickly after the avocado has been cut open. In solar dyeing, pigment begins appearing in the fluid within a few hours, but you don't use the dye fluid until it has soaked in the sun for months.

Now that I'm cooking for just one, it takes me longer to use up enough avocados to dye one 100-yard hank of crochet thread. I have asked two friends to save their pits and skins for me (and I've explained I need them same day and can come get them if they let me know), and I might ask a restaurant about the possibility of getting their discards one time, just to see if and how that would work. But, for now, to make another ball of scrappy avocado yarn is going to take a long time.

Several of the inquiries I've received after trying to explain what I've just written in two short sentences (i.e,. it's going to take a very, very long time) respond, "Can you have it done by next week?"

So, if you've made it this far in my ramblings, first of all, THANK YOU!!! Second, that's why I've written it. Next time someone asks if I can have another scrappy basket done in a few days, I can send them a link to this blog post.

People have asked how I get so many shades. Avocado dyeing differs in final results due to avocado variety, what time of year the avocados were harvested, what kind of soil they are grown in, the weather in the region of growth, the ripeness of the avocado when cut, the temperature at which the dye is processed, and how long the dye jar sits. There likely are hundreds of other factors that determine what the final color will be.

Avocado pit- and skin-dyeing is such a cool process, but it can't be rushed. And, no, I cannot finish another basket by next week. I'm not sure I could have another one done by next year. But, I do WANT to keep dyeing, and I do WANT to make another scrappy basket. I'm not sure it would be as rewarding a pastime if it was faster. I think the years it takes to create a project like my avocado basket are what make the final product so desirable.

Linking up with Alycia Quilts.

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Change of Heart

Typically, when I ask AI to render an image to illustrate one of my blog posts, it takes several renderings before I can finally get something at least a little close to the artwork I can see in my head. Not this time! AI got it right on the first render!!! (The AI-generated exploding laptop video below took three tries, and I gave up after that.)

Sometimes, the frustration of working with AI is not that much different from trying to eek a bit more life out of a 2016 laptop.

Why do I even trust this stupid piece of machinery anymore??? I have a 2022 model I'm using right now to type this. (Besides the fact that the new computer is on a standing desk, and sometimes, it's just nice to sit...) The old laptop is no longer supported. It can't run most of my programs. And it crashes so darned often!

The main reason I keep the old laptop is because it runs a legacy version of Photoshop, which runs filters and actions I purchased years and years ago. The new laptop doesn't support that version of Photoshop, and I can't run any of my purchased filters on the new laptop. New versions of most of these filters were never created. There are all kinds of tutorials on YouTube demonstrating how to create the effects, such as kaleidoscopes, which was (and still is) my favorite Photoshop filter. I've actually learned how to manually make kaleidoscopes. But I like the old filter MUCH, MUCH better. I used to play with that thing for hours.

I have two apps on my phone that create kaleidoscopes as I take photos. They are fun to play with, but the control just isn't as refined.

And then there are the Fractalius filters. I don't use them as often anymore, but I loved having them so I could use them when I had the inkling to do so. I've purchased them again for the new computer. They've never worked. I've tried every mode of help I can find, and we cannot get the filters to work on my newer laptop.

So every once in a while, I resort to editing photos on the old laptop. It's something I can do quietly while Lizard is watching television. Here is my most recent old laptop Photoshop Fractalius image.

I've also become very accustomed to responding to emails on the old laptop for the very same reason. I can do it quietly while Lizard is watching TV. I can do Bible study on the old laptop because it doesn't interfere with Lizard's nightly Star Trek obsession. Last April, I realized I could keep notes from General Conference on the old laptop while Lizard and I watched the live stream together. I planned to do the same thing again during the October General Conference.

I began having difficulty accessing the internet on the old laptop three days before Conference began. No big deal, really, because I don't do much internetting on that computer other than email. I just need it to save what I create to my private network so I can later access it on the newer computer. I should have taken that hint to not be so trusting of old technology. But did I listen to the prompting???

By the third speaker during the first Saturday session, I'd lost internet access on the old laptop (the TV was still fine, so I knew it wasn't an internet outage). Not a problem, except that I couldn't save my notes to my network. I decided to reboot to see if that would make a difference. I had to take notes from the next two speakers on my phone because the old laptop takes so long to start up. When I finally got back onto the old laptop, I still couldn't access the internet. So I couldn't email my phone notes to myself to copy and paste. I had to retype them. I was frustrated. But I had my notes. I had to repeat this process in the afternoon and then again in the evening. I was growing in frustration, but I had my notes.

Sunday morning, the same thing happened. This time, the laptop would not even save my notes from the first two speakers. I'd made the fatal mistake of saving all of my conference notes from each of the sessions in one document. I was scared I was going to lose all my notes from Saturday, too. I took photos of the computer screen before I attempted to reboot, then checked my new laptop to see if I had anything at all on the network. The network copy had only the first two speakers from Saturday. I was beyond frustrated. I was ready to yell. I wanted to throw the old laptop out the back window.

While this was happening, Ulisses Soares was speaking. Even though I was frustrated and even desperate in trying to save my notes, I was listening. I was modifying my behavior as he spoke because of the things he said. I never yelled. I didn't slam anything. I did cry. Boy, did I cry. But I acted with temperance, something that doesn't always come naturally for me these days. I shut down the old laptop. I moved the newer laptop into the living room and set it up so I could retype all my notes I'd photographed with my phone. I finished taking notes from the morning session of conference, then spent the break retyping what I'd lost. I then "rewound" the morning session of conference to listen to Elder Soares again to make sure I absorbed every single thing he said. And I'm glad I did. I needed it. I need to listen to this talk every single day until I can change my heart and my instincts. I want to be more Christlike. And I'm thankful for the lesson this experience has taught me.

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Night Lights

10 October 2024

I've longed for clear skies when aurora borealis has been forecasted for my area since May of 2024, when I caught my first glimpse of very pale pink in the night sky. We finally enjoyed full-fledged northern lights in October of last year. Best night of my life!

1 June 2025

We've had many chances during this solar maximum for the last 13 months. On the best viewing nights, however, we're either overcast (of which I can't complain because we need the rain) and/or Lizard isn't up for a road trip to break free from cloud cover.

1 June 2025

Areas outside Denver's obnoxious light pollution got amazing views Sunday night. Some areas enjoyed dancing colors in the sky Saturday night, too. I couldn't see even faint color, thanks to Denver city lights.

31 May 2025

On a whim, I decided to see if my cell phone could pick up the Milky Way. I'd tried back in 2018 with a real camera, and light pollution pretty much killed that attempt. It was fun to reminisce that night with Lizard. That was a week before his Parkinson's diagnosis. We knew something was wrong, but we didn't know yet what. We were trying to make the best of it, just in case the diagnosis turned out to be ALS.

11 August 2018

I'd forgotten to take a real camera with me this time. All I had was my cell phone. I tried a couple of shots, then came home to heavily edit them. I couldn't believe how awesome the shot turned out, even though it needed a ton of manipulation and isn't the clearest or best Milky Way shot. It turned my night of disappointment into the most giddy feeling I've had since the October northern lights!

1 June 2025

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Just Ride

2024

I was trying to finish up a snowflake while Lizard loaded the bikes onto the car. We had been around the block on our bikes a couple of times last month, but hadn't really gone for a good ride in months. Since winter weather set in. I hate taking breaks that long because I know Lizard will have to start all over again from scratch when he gets back on his bike. And the tiniest bit of stress will make him feel like he can't ride.

I should have known something was wrong. It normally doesn't take snowflake-finishing long for him to put the bikes on the rack. When Lizard came back in the house, he was completely stressed out and ready to give up. I told him to sit down and rest for a bit, and I'd finish loading the bikes, not knowing what a mess I was getting myself into. He sat down, and I could tell I was going to have to go into cheerleader mode to get him to go once the bikes were loaded.

The first bike was backwards and completely caught in the rack. In four short months, Lizard had forgotten how to load the bikes. I should have offered to help when he couldn't remember the code to open the garage door. I should have known Parkinson's had stolen more than just the code he set up 15 years ago. The brace for the front wheel was completely tangled in the spokes of the back wheel. I didn't know if I'd be able to safely extract the bike, and I didn't know if the wheel would still be true.

A little more than half an hour later, I had the bikes loaded, and I went back into the house to tell Lizard we could go. He was asleep on the floor. He often lays on the floor to stretch, but he typically puts his exercise mat down first. Weather was expected to move in within the next three hours. We'd vowed to ride every day for the past two weeks, but Lizard has been having great difficulty sleeping at night again, and he's too tired every single day. This was the first day he'd been awake. Until he wasn't...

With another storm expected in a couple of days, I thought we'd better ride while we could; we might not get another chance until the following week. I woke Lizard and told him the bikes were ready.

2024

Nearly an hour later, he was in the car and ready to go. We got to the trailhead, and I took the bikes off the rack. He typically does that, but I didn't want him to stress again. Good thing, too, because he soon was stressed out and ready to give up again because once again, just like each time we've tried to get back into the routine, he couldn't get his leg over his bike.

2023

I tried holding his bike for him and guiding his foot, which was super Parkinson's rigid, over the back tire and onto the pedal. The entire time, he kept saying he was done and wanted to go home. This had happened multiple times last year, and each time, I was able to cheer him into not giving up. It was SO much harder this time. But I finally got him back on his bike, and he was able to pedal upright, with better balance than he has when walking. That also is normal. His bike has been like his wheelchair for the past five years. He often can ride immediately once he's able to get on the bike, as if he'd never been off it. It's just a matter of getting back on the bike.

2024

I suggested we ride around the parking lot first, to make sure he was going to be able to ride, as well as turn around, which he'd have to do if we made it onto the trail. He was extremely slow, but he was riding. Until it came time to turn around. We'd gone barely a mile when he said his legs were gone. Sometimes he can get a second wind, if I can keep him on the bike. But I wasn't able to keep him on his bike. He struggled getting off while I dismounted as quickly as I could to help him. He sat on the ground and said he was done. He said he'd walk his bike back to the car. He didn't want to try getting back on the bike. He already knew he couldn't do it.

2024

A couple of times last year, he was able to get back on his bike by standing on a curb, so he was just a bit higher than the bike, enabling him to get his leg over the bike. I walked both bikes to the closest curb, about a quarter mile away, while he slowly followed behind, the standard Parkinson's gait. Shuffling his feet, arms not moving at all, extremely hunched over. Beaten. Defeated.

"I can't speak anymore," he said when he finally reached me. "I can't read anymore. I can't wrench on my bike anymore. I walk at a snail's pace. And now I can't ride anymore. I can't even get on my bike. My life is over."

It was the most he'd said in weeks, perhaps months, and I could understand every word. He tends to be loud enough for me to hear when he's angry. I told him to turn that fire into determination and get back on that bike. He coughed up all kinds of excuses for the next ten or so minutes. Meanwhile, other cyclists rode by, each pausing and asking if we were okay. I would explain he has Parkinson's and is trying to get back on his bike. Each passing cyclist would compliment Lizard on his determination and progress, but then ride off. I suppose it's uncomfortable to try to help someone when you perhaps don't have the slightest clue how to help and are afraid you might help cause an injury.

I tried the entire afternoon to stay cheerful, loving, patient and believing. I kept telling him I knew he could do it. I would remind him of the times he wouldn't let me give up. Trying to get up the Grand Mesa during Ride the Rockies, when he came up behind me and gently pushed my back, cheering me to "Push! Push! Push!!" The time he had to encourage me across a stream deeper than I was comfortable crossing while descending a 14er... while lightning was chasing us back to our car. The time he coached me up an arch in Rattlesnake Canyon when I had never, ever rock-climbed.

"You can do this!" I kept telling him. "You've got this! I believe in you!"

I silently prayed. Oh, how I prayed. I begged God to please not let this be the end of his cycling. It's his only remaining passion. Please don't let him give up yet. Please help me to get him back on his bike. I know he can do this.

Meanwhile, the temperature had dropped about 15 degrees, and the wind had become pretty furious. Such conditions do NOT help anyone get back on a bike. Lizard finally asked if he could have a hot chocolate with almond milk if he was able to get back on his bike.

2023

"Of course! The perfect reward!!! Now let's try to get back on the bike. I think you can do it if you stand on the curb."

It took a while, but Lizard got back on his bike. And he rode all the way back to the car. And around the parking lot three times before announcing his legs were beginning to come back to life. His legs weren't the only thing that came back to life. He remembered, finally, how much he loves riding his bike. Now it's my job not to let him forget. No matter the weather.

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