Trenchwork

Ok, so I actually have leave to go (i.e., I’m not actually going AWOL), but I’ve gotta admit that I feel as if I’m skipping out on a LOT of things which needed doing first!  And nope, I’m not feeling too guilty about it!  However, since I know that this will be the last post I can write for a little while, I’m going to give it to you in one big gulp, so grab your favorite cuppa and settle in; it’s gonna be a long one.   (Apologies in advance, by the way.)

First things first.  The spindling class was last Friday and a number of you have asked (and patiently waited) for a report.  This is it. 

It went well.  There were some 41 (I think) students, divided into 3 groups—sort of.  Grades 9 and 10 were combined into one large class which met for 2 hours, then there was Grade 8 for an hour, then a break for lunch.  Then Grade 8 was joined by Grade 7 for the next hour, and finally 7 had an hour all to themselves.  One of my new spinners helped out with the first group, so that gave us 3 adults working with 22 (?) kids, and only 1 of those kids had ever touched a spindle before.  That lone soul was—you guessed it—the son of my new spinner, and he’s doing brilliantly!  Talk about a consistent, fine single!

The combined 7 and 8 grades were a bit of a challenge, but Scott took the continuing 8th graders into their plying while I started the 7th graders on their spinning, and then we both worked with the 7th graders in their last hour.

And yes—I was toast by the end of it all.  I think Scott survived a bit better, but there’s no way I could have done it without his and Janet’s help.  Thanks, guys.

So, how did they do?  Well, about as I expected.  I took in all the novelty yarns I’ve run up over the past couple of months, plus the bag of small sample skeins so they could see some different fibers, plus a number of my own yarns, and a gallon ziplock bag each of washed Teeswater, Wensleydale, and Babydoll Southdown.  Most of these kids have only seen Norwegian White type sheep, and I wanted them to get the idea that wool is not wool is not wool.  There is simply a world of fiber possibilities out there, and if we look at wool alone, the possibilities are nearly endless.  I also wanted them to understand that as spinners, they controlled the entire creative process of their yarn—starting with their choice of fibers.

They dealt with that well, and they were fascinated by the raw wools, although I had to laugh when one gal grimaced and rolled her eyes when she felt the Babydoll Southdown.  The fiber is clean and well scoured, but it has a spongy feel and she was convinced it was  dirty and nasty. The Wensleydale, however, she liked because of the smooth curls; it feels more like hair.  Seriously, kids are a riot.

Each student chose a braid, and as expected, not all of them finished that braid.  Most of them did not, in fact, and I was relieved that I’d chosen well by not including a full 2 ounces of fiber in each braid.  At the end of the day, there were 46 braids left, which gives them enough for another spinning day or two, or for next year’s crop of students.  I’m rather pleased about that.

And how they spun . . . As expected, some did very well, and some struggled.  But at the end of the 2-hour block, every single student had spun a yarn.  A couple or three needed to finish plying, but the rest left with their yarn plied, skeined, and tied for washing, many of them wearing their new skeins as bracelets and headbands.

The only other thing which caught me off guard was their confusion about where that fiber and yarn came from.  Scott told one group that I’d dyed the fiber for them, and that seemed to surprise them so much that they applauded.  I’m not entirely certain what that says about their first impressions about me, though. (grin)  It didn’t occur to me to tell the others that I’d dyed those fibers; I didn’t feel a need to.  But one entire group and several students asked me what some of the yarns I’d brought with me cost.  I told them that those yarns weren’t for sale, and then we had a “who’s on first” conversation for a little while until I realized that they were trying to figure out how much I had paid for those yarns; they wanted to know how much it had cost me to purchase those yarns.  When the light went on and I understood what they were asking, I told them that I had not bought those yarns; I had spun those yarns myself.  I had to repeat myself a couple of times before that bit of information really sank in, and then there was a rather long silence while they adjusted their conception of spinning, and their ideas about me.  I was no longer just someone showing them something; I was the person who had done that.  Since they now knew the person who’d spun those yarns and knew that it wasn’t a professional who did it for a living, the concept of spinning their own yarns seemed to become much more accessible to several of them.  So much so that a couple of them asked about the spinning group meetings—and I’d love to see some of them there.

That, however, is the scoop on the class, and yes—I’m fairly pleased with how it all went.

On Saturday I had the last orientation meeting with the daughter of one of the gals in the knitting group.  She had come to me with questions for an essay she was working on, and I’d put a spindle and fiber in her hands as part of a way to answer those questions.  Her mom sent me a note that evening telling me that Z had gone home and promptly declared that she wants a wheel for her birthday.

I’m starting to feel as if I’m a corrupting influence!  At least it’s toward fibery pursuits. 

After I thought about that one for a bit, I realized that I was going to be away for a couple of months, and the Babe I use for training purposes would be sitting idle.  And it struck me that perhaps Z’s parents would be interested in renting the Babe (cheap) for a couple of months.  At the end of that time, Z would know for certain whether she really wanted to spin on a wheel, and her parents wouldn’t have agonized about whether to get her one only to find that the novelty had worn off before the wheel was more than a couple of months old.  This way, she’ll have a chance to decide for herself what she wants to do—and her parents will have a chance to evaluate the situation and explore options.  At least, all that made sense to me.

It made sense to them as well, and after a second tutoring session, Z went home with the Babe safely tucked into the back  seat of her mom’s car, some training fiber, and eight ounces each of BFL, Shetland, Corriedale pencil roving, and Brown Sheep Yarn superwash she’d bought at cost from my stash. By the time she finishes all those, she should have a good foundation to work from, and I’m really looking forward to seeing what she’s done at the end of the summer.

In the meantime, there’s been some odds and ends on my own spinning front.  I’ve washed up half of each of the pound samples.  I’ve spun samples from all sections of the full Shetland fleece, and decided to put it away until I get back so that I can take my time to comb it carefully.  It’s simply a beautiful fleece, and turns out a lovely rich coffee color that I adore.  I span a sample skein from the black Shetland lamb in the grease, and decided two things:

1. I love that fleece.  It’s healthy with no milk tips, it’s black as night, and it’s very very soft.  It would make a stunning shawl, and since I don’t have time to do that now, I’ve put it aside for when I come back.
2. I do not like spinning in the grease.  Both of Lois’s fleeces were very clean, so I didn’t have to worry about nasty stuff, extra VM, and so forth.  This is, in fact, the only fleece in my current possession that I would have considered spinning without a wash first.  However, even with the fleece and instruments warmed, and the lanolin very fluid, I don’t like the drafting process in full grease.  A little lanolin is one thing; a lot creates trouble for me.  Nor do I like the way my hands and tools pick up any dirt because the lanolin acts a bit like glue, or how I have to scrub my equipment down afterward.  I know there are a lot of people out there who enjoy the experience, but I’m afraid I’m not one of them.

I’ve begun carding the fleece I’ve washed, but I’m simply not going to get it all done before I leave.  I’d intended on having it all carded and spun, but that sooo isn’t going to happen.  So it’s going into the suitcase in whatever condition I have it—carded, combed, or not—and I’ll just be thankful that it’s clean!

The Teeswater lamb was first.

This sample came from Barbara Burrows and caught me by surprise. I lost a bit of the lock structure rubbing out the tips in some sections, but the locks are incredibly soft and very shiny. I have three curly wool samples in this batch: Wensleydale, Cotswold, and Teeswater. Of the three, the Wensleydale has the crisper and stronger curl, while the Teeswater and the Cotswold have less of a distinct ringlet curl and more of a heavy wave of the sort you might see in a light permanent.

The Teeswater is softer than either the Wensleydale or Cotswold, and this particular sample has much more shine, although it’s not precisely fair to judge lamb against adult fleece, particularly when one of the adult fleeces is colored. It is, however, downright silky, and I can easily see how it is used as a substitute for mohair.

The staple length is fairly long

and close to 5 inches in this case, if you stretch it out.

It combs and cards easily, and because of the silky nature, VM simply falls out during the process. Truthfully, it’s lovely to work with.  This one is carded and half is combed and pulled into sliver; it’s in the suitcase.

By the way, Barbara? She and her daughter, Kate, are both pleasures to work with.   You know precisely what you’re getting, when you’re getting it, and there’s no confusion or risk of being burned on a fleece purchase. Kate even helped me straighten out a purchase from another seller. I couldn’t ask for more.  Seriously.

The Old English Babydoll Southdown was next.

(click for bigger if you like)

This particular sample came from a nice gal named Patty and a 2-year old ram named “Care Bear.” How cute is that?? Isn’t that name just incredibly appropriate for that breed with their little round faces and smiling expressions?

Babydoll has a very short staple

and a very spongy texture. I’ve carded some and combed some just to see how it behaved, and aside from the note that it needs a fine pitch set of combs, and very gentle carding, it handles either nicely. I have a feeling, however, that this will be one of those wools which will feel as if it’s spun woolen regardless of whether it’s spun worsted from a worsted prep or woolen from a rolag. We’ll see what happens.

The only other note I really want to add here is that it has a truly impressive amount of lanolin. I lost a full half of the weight in the wash, and I still see one or two locks that managed to retain a little of the grease, despite my best efforts. The problem, of course, is not so much that there’s a massive amount of grease as it is that that grease and the short, crimpy staple traps the dirt. As I pull the locks open prior to carding, the sand and VM falls out, but I can see that some of it is still there. This was not a particularly dirty fleece; it’s just a part of the nature of the beast, I’m afraid, but a series of good shakes and thwaps in the process makes a big difference, and the rest will fall out in the spinning process.

This one is already in the suitcase.

Finally, there’s been some dyeing. Not acids, this time, but natural dyes.

(click for bigger and tags)
The photo doesn’t do the colors justice, and I can’t seem to get a good shot of the skeins. The yarn is a handspun merino at about 18wpi, and there are 10-15 yards per skein. I’ve labeled the photo, but going from left to right we have:
*original undyed white;
*sandalwood (it’s actually a medium salmon color);
*yellow onion skins with an iron after bath;
*yellow onion skins with a tin  after bath;
*yellow onion skins (the tin version is only a figment brighter than this one, and both are a rich rust color);
*dandelion flower with an iron after bath (it’s actually a soft sage green);
*dandelion flower with a tin after bath (a bit brighter greenish yellow);
*dandelion flower (a solid greenish yellow);
*dandlion root (I read somewhere that the root would give a pink.  It didn’t.  It’s ecru.);
*lichen, tentatively identified as cavernularia hultenii (a lovely soft camel color);
*birch leaf (a nearly neon yellow green);
*osage orange (a yellower and less neon version of the birch, much to my surprise);
*annatto;
*alkanet (a lavender grey);
*madder (not too different from the onion skins);
*madder with tin mordant (only a hint brighter than the plain);
*madder with iron mordant (a rich chocolate).

For all of these except the last two madders, I used an alum mordant.  Of these, I had a couple of surprises.  I expected green from the birch.  I did not expect it to  glow in the dark.  The lichen is a grey and black color, and I expected a nondescript grey dye.  I did not expect the  lovely brown it gave.  I expected osage orange to give a deeper color.  And I definitely did not expect the alkanet to smell like feet.

No, I’m not kidding on that last.  Feet.  Stinky feet.  Definitely makes you thankful you have ventilation.

So what did I think?  Well, natural dyes are fun.  They’re an adventure and I do have a lot more exploring to do.  But you know, I really do appreciate the orderliness and precision—and colors—in acids.  In other words, I don’t think natural dyeing will take priority for me, and it certainly won’t replace other methods.  But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate them—and enjoy them.

And that, friends and neighbors, is all the news of the moment.  On Tuesday morning (Monday evening for east coasters), I hop a plane for stateside for a month of friends and family.  I’ve pulled out the suitcase, but so far have only the fibery elements figured out.  Typical, eh? DH is flying over at the end of the month, and then we’re going be tourists and wander around a bit before we go back to family and then fly home again.

In short, the computer is going with me for some personal work and some writing time, but ‘net access will be unstable and I’m giving myself permission to not fret about mail, blogs, or forums for the next 2 months.  All listserv mail is being turned off for the time being, and I’m looking forward to NOT being chained to the machine and communications.  I’ll try and give you a post or two along the way, but don’t worry about sending Vito after me until after 15 August.  I’m planning on spending time with my family, meeting a few spinners in real life, visiting a proper grocery store (do you KNOW how exciting it can be to just walk down the aisles of a normal Winn-Dixie?!?), relishing a bit of sunshine even while I die in the heat and humidity, boiling some shrimp, and otherwise just generally enjoying the down time.

I sincerely hope you’ve all planned a little respite for yourselves!  Life is simply too busy, too full of stress, and too chaotic for us to live at the usual pace all the time.  Even if it’s just a little one, give yourself a break when you can.