Well, so much for keeping in touch from the road!

I’m back, albeit more than a little jet lagged, so you’ll have to take this post as you can get it (and I’ll cross my fingers that it makes at least some sense).  However, I have plenty of material, so I’m going to be greedy and dole it out slowly over the next week or two.  For today, though, more than anything I just want to reassure folks that I’m alive, and that I haven’t fallen off the planet or gotten permanently lost in the west’s open landscape.  (Seriously, do you KNOW how many places there are out there where running out of gas would mean at least a day’s walk, or a half day to find cell phone coverage?)

It WAS good to be there, and to spend time with family and friends. To sit and visit, to chat about nothing and everything, under no pressure to cover the news or try and download all the latest into a single conversation before you have to leave. I miss them more than I can say.

It was good to be back among the familiar, even when there were changes. To see election information and campaign interviews as they happened rather than filtered through European interests and perspectives, recognizing where medias on both sides of the pond have their own biases and slants. To drive an automatic, to turn right on red, have decent sized parking spaces, to find street signs and addresses clearly marked. To groan about Florida/Georgia humidity and be thankful for air conditioning. To go to church and celebrate in one’s own language in a place and among a people which actually celebrate. To have Mom’s cheesecake. To have access to department stores which carry sizes larger than a 9 and colors other than black. To linger over a Mexican or Tex-Mex meal, and to have 24-hour access to a WalMart which happens to carry one’s preferred antacid afterward.

And doggone it, it was a real downer to have to settle for a Norwegian grocery yesterday after having spent 6 weeks around full-sized American groceries. If you’re wondering about the difference, think of the larger Mom & Pop stores. The ones with 4 brands of ice cream, only 1 or 2 of which come in gallon boxes, and of those in only 3 flavors (krokan, tri, and vanilla). Where they have 6 types of cereal not counting musli, 4 types of canned fruits (pears, peaches, pineapple, and coctail), and not many more types of canned veggies (corn, beans in tomato sauce or red beans, tomatoes, sometimes peas and sometimes green beans).

It’s a joy to walk into a well-organized Publix or Winn-Dixie, to shake your head at your own excitement at finding true sausages rather than oversized hot dogs, Pop Tarts, a real selection of fruits and veggies, more than three types of pasta, and a proper broom. To laugh when you realize that the family member who came with you has decided to not only walk 20 paces behind, but in the next aisle as you ooh and ah over new products and old “friends,” and while you possessively clutch that box of ordinary saltine crackers.

It’s amazing what you miss, and how touched you find yourself when you can pick up a box of Grape Nuts or walk into an office supply store and find not only the labels you need but a thousand versions to suit any need. Or how grateful you feel yourself when you walk through the doors of a large hardware store and have the desk clerk smile, ask if you’re having a good day, and offer to help you find whatever it is you came in for—within 5 seconds of your arrival—then follow through to do exactly that or summon help if she doesn’t have the answers, all with a cheerful can-do attitude.

There are, of course, some negatives along the way. Such as when a fiber order from a vendor never arrives (is never truly sent) and the vendor refuses to answer the phone or reply to your messages (voice and e-mail) and you have to resort to filing a grievance to retrieve your payment. That kind of unprofessionalism is simply unacceptable, and I don’t care whether it’s a small family business or not. While the brick and mortar store is probably more honest because it requires no initiative from the owner, I’ll never again try to purchase anything from that shop or individual, either online or otherwise, and I’ll never never never recommend them to someone else. Nor do I object to telling you who it was in the hope that the vendor will straighten up, although I fear that their reputation is sunk with more than just me. My feeling is that Little Barn should never operate an online shop . . . or perhaps that they should hire an honest and reputable individual to manage it independently of the owner. It’s a shame, because the prices are good, and I truly loathe reporting a bad experience with a vendor. They’re the kinds of things which give your faith in the inherent good in people a bit of a shake.

Then there are the ones you order raw wool from and who fall off the planet after you’ve sent your payment, and from whom you cannot get a response. The CVM was that way, and I’d given it up for fraud and lost, but was thankful I’d only paid for a pound plus postage. Then, six months later, the fiber arrives. Unexpected, and out of the blue. I don’t know whether the individual had a bout of conscience, if someone else found out and applied pressure, or quite what happened. There was no note, and no explanation. Just a very generous pound of wool. These are the ones which, while you’re still a bit cynical, begin to restore your faith in humanity.

And then there are the pure goods. Like getting an unexpected fibery gift of roving from Margaret (who seemed to be under the silly illusion that I just didn’t have enough but I know it was really because she was trying to dig herself out of fleece that had all come back from the mill ). And meeting Donna, who is as genuine and sweet as she seems on her blog, and who brought me some Loopy Ewe mini-batts because she feared I’d be overwhelmed with just raw fleece. And Kate Lowder who nudged a fleece vendor into shipping an order, and then went above and beyond the call to find me a reputable BFL vendor (which turned out to be Robin Koenig and her champion ewe from Black Sheep Gathering, and whose fleece had been washed on the animal before she was shown—which meant that it was incredibly clean when I got it). Seriously, I cannot say enough positive about Kate, and I recommend her to anyone and without reservation.

There were the two anonymous gents at the Metcalf Wood Industries who reassured me that I wasn’t as lost as I thought I was and pointed me in the right direction.

There was Laura Steere of Infinity Acres who found me the luscious fleece from this little Huacaya Alpacca sweetie:

. . . and then promply went out and, in 100-degree heat and impossible humidity–sheared the silky white ringleted fleece of a Suri Llama when I asked if she had a pound she could spare and bouyed my niece and I up with glasses of cold water. How nice could you be?? And heck yes I took the whole fleece!

There was Tony in the produce section of the Winn-Dixie on Magnolia and Park in Tallahassee. A tall, clear-sighted fellow who was intrigued by my desire for onion skins and who talked to me about it and his time in the professional basketball leagues in Europe for a good 15 minutes. He even offered to save the skins for me.

There are people you meet and for whom you automatically wish not just well, but best.

Then there was the fellow at the Woolery who replaced the Little Barn order, and had it in my hands in 2 days flat. The fibery vendors who followed through, like Vicki at Kendig Cottage and Terry of Bizyhands on Etsy who sold me her gently-used Victoria and threw in a lovely hand-dyed roving so that I would have something to practice with.

I truly do believe that people are generally inherently good, but after a couple of negative experiences, it’s awfully nice to find the folks who prove the rule rather than the exception.

POST WASH WEEK: An After-Action Visual

(ETA:  click for bigger or ID labels on the Flickr image.)

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.

It’s been a rather disorganized week with a lot of bits and pieces of different things, not the least of which was a couple of days sitting in a queue with the usual immigration bureaucracy (admittedly one of the most questionably organized public offices I’ve ever had the [mis]fortune to encounter).  But this morning . . . this morning totally made my day.  Check this:

Now, I know that photo doesn’t really make sense when you see it like this. So let me enlighten you. It’s a Shetland fleece from a ewe named Chloe under the care of the Moores on Stonehaven Farm in the marvelously-named town of Halfway, Oregon. Seriously, is that not the coolest set of names you’ve heard in a while? They read like a story. (If you’re curious, there’s a link to the farm on the blogroll to the right.)

And before I explain the fleece, I have to tell you that Lois Moore is a lovely, lovely person to work with. When I asked for a fleece which would let me meet Master Spinner requirements (i.e., NOT heavily skirted; we need the belly wool as well), she went rooting through her newly-shorn fleeces until she found one she’d not yet skirted much, bundled it carefully so that I could unpack it in its proper shape, and shipped faster than I could have hoped for. She talked to me about the fleece, asked questions to be sure she was sending me something I could use and would like, and went above and beyond what I could have asked for. Besides, doggone it, she’s just nice!

But the fleece . . . Don’t laugh, but I brought the box in and opened it, looked at it all sitting nestled in clear organization, and then panicked and had to let it sit for a few minutes before I pulled it out for fear I was going to muss it up. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I pulled it out and unrolled it, and everything fell neatly into place. Can’t you see the shape of the sheep? Need a closer look? Check out this staple:

Isn’t that just lovely crimp?? And the photo doesn’t show it, but it’s actually nicely shiny. This is a mioget fleece, but that unwashed staple doesn’t do the color justice. Try this washed pair:

Yes, I had to wash a lock and blow it dry to see what it would look like. But even that photo doesn’t quite show you the depth of tone. It’s a variegated light moorit (yellow-brown) fleece, and the washed lock shows a lovely warm oatmeal range of color with some dark hairs here and there.

As for the condition of the fleece . . . Oh. My. It feels wonderful, but I’m sooooo impressed with how clean it is compared to what I’ve worked with before. There’s a tiny—and I do mean “tiny”—bit of VM here and there, but it’s all stuff which will be a snap to remove. There are a couple of packy bits here and there where you’d expect to find them on an uncovered sheep, but even those will wash up nicely. There are nearly NO second cuts here, the fleece is actually fairly open, and I simply cannot wait to see how it spins up. It’s a slightly larger fleece than I expected, and weighs in at about 4 pounds. Once the Master Spinner requirements are met, I’ll have enough for a nice-sized project just for me.

Tomorrow is the spinning group meeting from noon until 4, but then guess what I’m doing? (Hint: I picked up some nesting buckets this morning as well.)

I expect the spinning group to be smaller than usual tomorrow since one is ill, two are working, and two others have family and other conflicts, but we’ll have fun anyway. There’s one more scheduled meeting at the end of the month and then they’ll have a break from regular meetings until September in order to accommodate summer travel schedules.

But in the meantime, I’m spinning funky yarns to use as demo yarns for a group of teenagers in a few weeks. I’m willing to bet that they’ll think a smooth vanilla yarn is downright boring—particularly if it doesn’t look much different from what they could buy in any LYS—but a novelty yarn or two might catch their interest. So there’s this:

Is that just not the funniest stuff you’ve seen in a while? It’s 4 ounces of Merino, hand-dyed by Spunky Eclectic in the fiber-of-the-month flavor, “Mud Season.” There are 40 yards here, using the wrap-and-roll method in the current edition of Spin-Off that you’ll find on the front cover. This yarn is a bit more “bubbly” than I’d like, and I found that if you’re going to use that method, then you need to keep three things in mind.

First, your single needs to be pretty consistent both in the thin spots and in the thick spots. In other words, the thin spots should all be about the same thinness, and the thick spots all about the same thickness.

Second, because you’re pushing the plied single up on your core yarn, you’re using a lot of single yardage in a very short space, so you want your thick spots to be fairly far apart. If they’re too close, they’ll all run together and you lose the bubble.

Third, you don’t really need a major distinction between the thin spot of your single and the thick spot. There should be an obvious difference, but if the thick spot is 2 inches long, you don’t need the difference to be dramatic. The thick spot is wound nearly on top of itself during the ply, so all thickness builds exponentially. Too big and you get a Bazooka-sized bubble (like some of these) rather than a simple kernel. And, obviously, the longer the thick spot, then the bigger or longer your bubble, depending on how you “build” it in the ply.

This type of spinning uses a LOT of fiber for a fairly short yardage, but that’s a given. How soft the yarn is will ultimately depend on how firm your single is (keep it soft), and how snugly you ply the single onto your core yarn. I don’t mean how firmly you push it up, but rather how tightly you guide the single onto the core. If you give it a wee bit of room to play, it will be a bit softer and fluffier. Ply it at a straight 90-degree angle with a guiding finger under the join and it will be firmer and a bit stiffer.

It seems to me that the key to the yarn here is that—aside from those other issues—you don’t let it overply; make a point of getting rid of the extra twist. One note to that point . . . In addition to setting your spindle to spinning clockwise (assuming your wheel is plying counterclockwise), if you look at the video on the magazine’s website, you’ll see that she’s actively untwisting the core yarn with her subordinate hand while she’s plying. Even if you shift your wheel to a slower speed, you’re going to build up extra twist. “Helping” your spindle spin by pushing the twist down toward it does, er, help. But you still may have to stop at intervals and release extra twist to keep from overplying.  There’s a balance between how quickly your wheel is plying in one direction and how quickly your spindle is removing twist in the other direction.  If the wheel is moving faster than the spindle, you’re going to need to release twist at some point, even if you just hang the yarn from a hook and let it dangle. 

Finally, do as designer Sarah Anderson suggests and slightly full the yarn in the finishing process. It makes a difference, and the yarn does soften as it’s handled.

But doesn’t it make you think of that bubbly seaweed?  Bladderwrack?

Fordi Bloggspinner ville ha et bilde som viser alt sammen.  :-)

(NB! Nøster er større enn vanlig; jeg bruker den Strauch Jumbo nøstemaskin. Den på venstre er vanlig størrelsen—og er halv brukt.)

NB! The balls of yarn are larger than standard; I use the Strauch Jumbo ball winder. The one on the left is one which is half-used, and which is now about the size of a standard ball of yarn.

Edited to add:  To answer Margaret’s question, yes, that is indeed a little sheep stitchmarker.  :-)  Nearly all my stitchmarkers come from the wonderful Karen of Beadmarkers, and that one is one of these:  http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=9282661

I know, I know; I’m way behind schedule on the blog.  Things have been just busy enough that it’s had to sit idle, and I’m spending part of the day today catching it up.  I know I owe a LOT of folks e-mail, so you’re next on the list. Hang tight; I’ll get there shortly.  In the meantime, in order to reassure everyone that I’m alive, here’s an update.  Um, a rather long update.

There has been work.  One class ending and another starting and 4 others ongoing, and a realization that I need to find a way to steal time from something in order to get some writing of my own done.  While I still find myself a bit nauseated when I sit down to work with anything which had to do with the doctorate, I at least am at a point where I can write again.  But in order to do that—and that’s the only way that an academic can make herself competitive—I may need to adopt a more limited approach to fiber pursuits (or perhaps just a more organized one).  In the meantime, however, there’s been plenty happening.

Spinning group.  The public spinning group met for the second time a week ago.  We didn’t have as many as we had had in the first meeting (14), but we did have 8, and that 8 included one new fellow who happens to be a weaver, blacksmith, and art teacher.  I’m looking forward to the point when he finds himself more comfortable in the language, because I frankly think the other spinners will find him fascinating.  Now if we can just recruit his wife, too . . .  ;-)  However, aside from those 8, there were three others who had planned to be there but could not attend at the last minute.  My feeling is that we’ll stabilize at about 8-10 regulars with an increasing number of them on wheels and not just spindles.  But I’m concerned about the push for a wheel . . . Somehow, it seems as if some of them have the idea that spindles are good for play but they’re not “serious”; in order to be a “real” spinner, you need a wheel.  I wish I could convince them that they’re entirely wrong on that point, but since I spend most of my spinning on a wheel rather than spindle, I suppose I’m not a stellar example.  In other words, I just need to find a way to introduce them to Abby Franquemont!

Our new fellow has asked if I’d do a little spindle workshop for his classes–about 46 junior high students–and of course I’ve agreed.   I’ll dye the fiber for them when he has it, but that means I need to make up about 30 CD spindles.  There’s been a lot of that happening lately, and thanks to Lucinda I have the grommets for them!  However, between now and then I also need to spin up some very funky yarns so that they can see that handspun does not necessarily mean a smooth yarn.  It can be as wild as their imagination, and my gut feeling is that that approach will appeal to more kids.  So, the next few weeks are going to be spent in wild experiments.

The previous spinning group meeting netted another spinning demo, and that took place on Saturday.  There was a rotating crowd of about 25—about half what they expected, but the beautiful weather is probably the reason for the lower population–and I had a blast.  CD spindles and fiber in hand, I had 6 kids at about 5th grade spinning away and making their own beautiful, lumpy-bumpy, thick-thin yarn, and one adult who had tried a wheel some time ago and didn’t get it then but was now making a surprisingly even fingering-weight single.

It would be an understatement to say that I’m proud of them all, but doggone it, I am.  Especially the little kids.  They took their yarn sample and showed them off to mom and grandmother and were entirely pleased with themselves and their accomplishments—and I cannot blame them.

With the demo in mind, I had dyed up fiber again:


The second is a resist dye using blue and red, but while I like the colors, I don’t like handling the fiber to rearrange the ties, and I don’t like the way the fiber comes out packy afterward. This technique would be great with yarn, but I won’t do it again with fiber.

The demo and the growing spinning group has had me thinking about a sample book for a while, beyond the fleece sample book for the Master Spinner program. With that in mind, I’ve been doing little spins in the spare moments.  Part of the reason for that is to organize my own notes, but the other reason is a bit more practical.  See, a lot of the spinners here have only spun or seen spinning with plain old Norwegian sheep fleece, and you and I both know that there is an entire world of fiber out there (which my stash will now attest to).  It dawned on me that if I span up some test skeins in different fibers, then they would be able to actually see and lay hands on a few of those possibilities.  That’s where Mary came in.  She had sent me a fiber swap package with a lot of different sample fibers, and they were exactly what I needed.

From top to bottom, there was a flax-silk blend, soybean tops, tencel tops, bamboo, black diamond/carbonized bamboo, a viscose-silk noil blend.  The flax-silk blend has a nearly cotton fabric feel to it, and I have a feeling that it would make a great structured fabric.  The soy is impossibly soft, and the carbonized bamboo is a different texture than the normal white bamboo.  But the carbonized stuff . . . Oh, my goodness.  It drafts like a dream, and has a cool, soft feeling that I love.  This stuff begs to be spun laceweight and turned into a shawl.  The viscose-silk blend makes me think of a plush teddy bear; it’s textured (there’s no way to spin it smooth) and cuddly and soft.  The mohair-Corriedale boucle wasn’t in the package, but I span it (not necessarily well) to show that they too could create their own boucle . . .

There was Egyptian cotton (which, incidentally I love and could barely stand to sacrifice even a little of for a test skein), and flax spun wet and then dry.  The wet-spun flax is smoother, tighter, crisper.  The dry-spun flax is fluffier and a bit more hairy.  It has a bit more texture than the other.  Of the two methods, I found I preferred spinning the flax wet than dry; it was easier to draft.  I am, however, amazed at how much it softens as it’s handled.  When I’d washed and let it dry, it was pretty much like twine; it was stiff.  But as I’ve moved it about and twisted it into a skein, it’s grown increasingly soft.

From top to bottom, there’s an ounce of Class A Pygora goat from Peppermint Farms which I received from Nicole . . .   The fiber was predrafted into something close to pencil roving and I span it semi-woolen.  But I’m amazed at how lofty and squishy this yarn turned out to be, and how soft it is despte the fact that it’s the coarsest class of Pygora.  It feels very much like a soft mohair to my hand.  (For more info about Pygora goats and their fiber classifications, look here:  http://www.pygoragoats.org/Fiber/Fiber_Types.html)

The middle fiber is a truly funky yarn using the dyed Wensleydale locks Mary sent.  The singles are an Ashland Bay merino-tussah blend I had on hand, and the locks are twisted into the yarn during the ply process.  I gave it an abusive wash in order to lock things further in place, and it’s actually very soft to the touch and makes me think of a rather odd collection of flowers.

The bottom fiber is a blend of alpaca and silk throwster’s waste.  Mary had sent a small bag of dyed throwster’s waste, so I carded it into some fawn alpaca I already had on hand.  It spins up into a textured yarn, and while you have to watch to be sure the alpaca and the silk don’t separate, it’s wonderfully soft and colored.  I have to admit, though, that I wasn’t keen on the carding process.  Silk is incredibly strong, and if it gets tangled and hung in a clump, it nigh well needs an act of God to loosen it up into draftable form.  In other words, I just need to practice.

Here they are . . .

There’s one fiber sample missing here, and that’s hemp.  I realized I overlooked it on Sunday and haven’t had a chance yet to spin it up.  However, there’s a reason why I’m showing this photo, despite its darkness, and it’s because of the stuff at the bottom.

When I started spinning, I started saving a tiny sample of each new fiber, plus (if I remembered) a wee bit of the yarn I made from it. Those two samples were tucked into a ziplock sandwich bag and attached to a page where I noted any observations about the fiber, the preparation, where it came from, thoughts for future spinning and use, and so on. But I know it’s difficult for new spinners to visualize yarns and new fibers, so for the demo and training purposes later, I span these samples into test skeins, then added the fiber sample and any notes to the skein. I have a notebook with plastic sleeves which will let me bundle them all up safely, and I can add my own fiber notes from past spins to the collection.  I’ll introduce the book to the spinning group at the next meeting so that they can get an idea for their own organization now that they’re starting to experiment with more than just the Brown Sheep Yarn mill ends I’ve used to get them started!

On other fibery fronts, there’s been progress on the grey.  About 1500 yards worth, and I still have about a pound of fiber pending.

There’s even been this–

Please note that ball on the right which is actually connected to knitting needles (although I need another set; these are too short) and that those knitting needles actually have something on them and one of Karen’s stitch marker to mark the start.  Don’t faint!  But . . . Yep—the Cobblestone is officially cast on.  Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean the thing will be finished before next Christmas, but hey–it’s begun!

In the midst of the grey and little samples, there’s been a wee bit of color:

You have to see the original fiber to really understand what drew me to it, but it’s a wonderful space-dyed crayon series of fuschia, blue, and yellow, with “bleed” spaces in purple, orange, and green—and all in bright, pure colors.  In the midst of all the grey, it was just what the doctor ordered.

(photo borrowed from Louet’s site)
Fiber: Louet’s Northern Lights “Circus” (from Kendig Cottage)
Weight: 8 ounces
WPI/Ply: 10/chain
Yardage: 272 yards

Much to my surprise, the yarn actually spins up rather nicely; it’s a moderately soft but firm yarn, and not all of that can be credited to the spinning.  I chose to chain ply the singles because I was afraid that a straight 2-ply would create a muddy effect I didn’t want.  I find I’m not particularly keen on barberpoling, so chain plying allowed me to at least control which colors ‘poled—and that meant that I could allow ‘poling within multiple shades of one color, with a bit of overlap here and there to create small transition spaces.  I’m actually rather pleased with this yarn; it’s fairly even, and I didn’t overspin the singles as prep for the ply (which I have a tendency to do if I know I’m going to chain ply; don’t ask me why).

And to leave you with a non-fibery photo, we’ve had snow.

Lots and lots of snow.

Of course, we’re now having rain, so would you like to guess what things will look like by the end of the week?

Sigh.  Seriously, I do fine with snow.  I even like snow.  It’s the ice that really puts me into a spin.  Er, literally.  I took a fall a few weeks ago, and while the football-sized bruise has finally gone, the knots are still there.

And you know you’re in the presence of a fiberholic when she looks at that bruise in all its stormy glory and her first thought isn’t that it’s really a good thing she’s not keen on miniskirts, but rather that wouldn’t it just be too cool if she could duplicate those colors in the dyepot?

Natalie of The Yarn Yard and Donna of SpinningDayDreams have gifted me with a “You Make My Day” award. How totally generous of them, and nope—I don’t think I’ve earned it. Particularly given the fact that during busy periods I live in a figurative cave and were it not for the occasional blog post to reassure folks that I’m alive, friends and family would have sent Vito to my door several times over. I know I’m supposed to pass it on (although Donna gave me permission to bail on that aspect if I wasn’t up for it [thank you!]), but you’ll have to wait a bit for that.

Things have been busy, but I’ve been doing bits and pieces at intervals. Fifteen or thirty minutes at a go really can add up to something.

Like four full bobbins for DH’s sweater. At this rate, however, it may be his Christmas present for next year. If you’re wondering what the yellow tags are, they’re reminding me which bobbin they are (i.e., which order I’ve spun them in) so that I can ply the oldest against the newest—and actually know which is which.

(PS: SInce I wrote this post in increments, bobbin 5 is now finished and 6 is on its way. You’ll just have to settle for seeing 4. ).

There was a test spin to help a friend figure out the quality of a new BFL source. I made an ugly yarn, dyed it, and nope—I an’t gonna show ya! (Hey, a girl’s gotta have some self-respect here!)

There was some dyeing for new-spinner starter kits.  It’s a good way for me to experiment with dye without throwing away fiber, and since I’m gearing it to new spinners, each dye job for this purpose uses about a dozen or so 2-yard strips of roving.

There was this generic rainbow batch (which is about a third of the batch; the rest is already gone):

There was a dusty rose which went long before I remembered to take a photo (you know those 14 spinners from about a week ago? Guess what they were spinning?).

And there was this new addition (which will undoubtedly disappear at the next spinning meeting):

There was some soy silk, which is slowly appearing on a light Bossie:

and some Bombyx silk which went into the same dye bath and which was spun up into about 150 yards of a thick and slubby yarn:

The grey has made me long for color, and somehow those dye jobs helped, but weren’t quite enough. So I dug out a recent Spunky Eclectic fiber club parcel. Amy calls it “Party Dress” and it fit the bill.

It’s a superwash Corriedale which I chain plied rather badly and still netted 300 yards at about 11wpi. While I’ve been trying to stay in the 10wpi groove for DH’s grey, I found myself spinning this one progressively thinner. Am I the only one who finds most superwash incredibly easy (and impossibly tempting) to spin thin?? I had to remind myself several times to not go too far off or I’d lose touch with DH’s grey; I need to remember how that grist feels in order to maintain it. But I definitely ended up with too much twist in several areas, and wasn’t paying close enough attention when I plied it to keep those kinks out.

I’ve been thinking that I actually haven’t accomplished much on the spinning front lately, other than orientations. Maybe, however, I need to re-evaluate that. It’s amazing what you can get done in 30 minute intervals here and there, or while you’re preparing lecture notes and reading student writing. Those breaks have been worth their proverbial weight, particularly since reading right now consists of Wuthering Heights, Silas Marner, Jane Eyre (are you seeing a trend?), Great Expectations, The Return of the Native, Sense and Sensibility (which finally ends the Victorian readings), The Ghost Writer, and Lighthousekeeping,  along with a small collection of shorts.  For the Americans, we have Mumbo Jumbo finishing this week, and Love Medicine starting next week. On the Norwegian reading front, there’s the last of Kristin Lavransdatter, and Ut og Stjele Hester by Per Pettersson. The good news is that I don’t have to read them all at once, I’ve read all but 2 of them before so most are reviews, and I have only the Americans in class this week and next. In other words, I have a break.

That book chair I found and posted about? It’s perfect!

By the way . . . the Victoria? There is indeed a new-to-me oak version (thanks to Bizyhands on etsy) sitting politely in a quiet corner in Atlanta, awaiting my arrival in June.

Seriously.  Enabling?  It’s the fiber world’s by-word.  Get a single spinner, knitter, dyer, crocheter, or individual who has a hobby/living/passion/obsession in any way connected with fiber, then put that spinner/knitter/whatever in a random crowd and wait five minutes.  In that five minutes, our fiber hobbyist will have found every other fibery hobbyist within the reach of a NASA radar assembly, and managed to encourage at least one fiber greenhorn  to try, buy, experience, experiment, or otherwise plunge into the seductively fascinating world of fiber and that . . . gee, ain’t it the best thing since sliced bread?  And then fiber hobbyist and newly enabled drift off into their respective worlds, each feeling happy and satisfied and envigorated.

When fiber gal tells her DH about the success of the whole thing, he smiles, agrees that it was wonderful, and privately (and totally silently) commiserates with the unwitting and momentarily innocent SO of the newly enabled enthusiast.  A CD spindle, he knows, soon leads to a commercial spindle, which of course seems to multiply since there must be spindles in different weights and styles.  A pair of 4 ounce bags of generic wool soon multiply exponentially into many pounds of wool, silks, synthetics, blends—and which seem to occupy every possible spare corner of storage.  A single wheel seems to suddenly have morphed into three, and of course each must have its own accessories.  A simple plastic ball winder transforms into a jumbo which can handle at least a pound of yarn, there’s an umbrella swift tucked under the sofa, a drum carder nestles under a corner table, and a niddy noddy hides in a drawer.  A wicker basket sprouts a bizarre assortment of nøstepinnes, dowels, cotton yarn for tying skeins, yarn ends and measuring devices.  Stainless steel pots, a spare microwave, measuring cups and spoons are stashed with a growing supply of dye ingredients.  Screens are stashed in the garage and sawhorses no longer seem to be used for sawing but for supporting screens full of washed fleece.

So DH smiles, nods in the appropriate places and makes the appropriately supportive noises.  And he thinks with something akin to relief of the fact that she’s contemplating her own little herd of Angora rabbits rather than dwelling on his near fatal blunder of observing—out loud—that alpacas didn’t seem to take much space and a pair could probably be housed on as little land as they had in the back yard.  Fiber hobbies should come with a warning.  He shakes his head, and wonders if he shouldn’t start a support group for the SOs of fiber enthusiasts.

“Hello.  My name is George.  My wife is a knitter.”

“Hi, George. ”

“Hello.  My name is Mary.  My husband is learning to spin.”

“Hi, Mary.”

Seriously.  Those of us who are the significant others of the Georges and Marys of the world probably should come up with some sort of support network for those folks.  Or at least give our enablees a brochure for their SO.   You know, something along the lines of:

So your wife is a spinner.

Breathe.  Relax.  It will all be ok.  Just remember to breathe.  Some rules which might help you . . .

• Trust that while it all looks insane, she has not lost her mind.
• She may forget basics now and then in the excitement of a new toy or fiber, but she has not forgotten you.
• Love of an agonizingly soft fiber does not mean she loves you any less.
• Now and then the house may smell like hot vinegar baths while she dyes fiber or yarn.  Don’t fret; it’s not permanent.  There’s a cake on tomorrow’s menu.
• The new dust bunnies which seem to have reproduced on their own are also temporary.  They’ll get picked up on the next vacuum run.  Eventually.
• Consider how clever she is to have learned this thing, how creative she is to have made something new, and how much you’re going to enjoy that thing she’s making for you when she finally finishes it—even if it’s the ugliest of its kind you’ve ever seen.
• Consider the possibility of fiber pursuits being a lesser evil.  There are certainly worse obsessions.
• Trust that eventually—hopefully—she will acquire some sort of balance with it all.
• Above all, remember to breathe.  Everything else falls apart if you forget to breathe.

I thought about all that last Saturday, when we had the first open-house spinning meeting.  So far, I had recruited 6 new spinners.  Six.  I’m proud of them, and they’re a foundation for something new and wonderful.

I didn’t know how many to expect at this first meeting.  I’d made the appropriate connections with the regional Husflidslag consultant who had then sent the information on to the heads of the local chapters.  I’d briefly announced the meeting on Spinnerens Hjem and Hobbyboden.  I’d dropped off a flyer with the three local yarn shops:  Garnhuset, Jens Hoff, and Husfliden.

But there was no way of knowing what to expect.  As far as I knew, I could be the only one there, although I’d gotten word that there would be at least three others, and a number of other folks wanted to come as well.  But you and I both know how those things go; people often say they’d like to do something but life and other interests intervene.  So, I packed my starter-spinner box of fiber and improvised spindles, the Babe in case I needed a training wheel, my Rose and some Spunky Eclectic fiber club fiber and half prepared to have a quiet afternoon of solitary spinning if none of my new recruits showed up.

They showed up.  Of my 6 new spinners, 4 were there.  Plus Wenche (a relatively new but fast-learning spinner who has begun her own online shop), that made 6.

But we didn’t have 6.

We had 14.

Fourteen.

The six of us (plus one daughter of about 8 who got to help her mom by treadling Wenche’s Baynes while her mom handled the plying process), plus 8 new faces.

I was astonished.  Fourteen.  I keep turning that number over in my head and feeling absurdly pleased.

In the group, there were 3 experienced spinners, two of whom were older, and I was fascinated to see some of the things that had changed between their spinning history and mine.  They were taught to spin singles counterclockwise (S) while most new spinners today spin their singles clockwise (Z).  Accustomed to spinning Norwegian fleece (which usually means Norsk Hvit/Norwegian White), they worked toward less twist rather than more, particularly in plying.  The older of the three used “snelle” where the younger population seems to be using “spole” for “bobbin.”  There are changes, and I’m mightily intrigued.

But 14 for a first spinning meeting . . . Of course we won’t have all fourteen back; some will have discovered that spinning isn’t for them, and those SOs will sleep soundly never knowing how big a bullet they may have dodged.  But the others . . . I can see at least 8 of them becoming regulars.  Two of my earlier recruits have purchased wheels—and they’ve only been spinning for a few weeks on spindles.  One is on the hunt for a wheel.

One of the new folks asked if I’d do a demo for her knitting group in March, and perhaps let those who want to try their hand at it experiment a bit.

And I’m wondering whether we should print those brochures and attach one to each spindle . . .

I’m still buried, so you’re liable to see sporadic posts for a bit yet.  And I’m dreaming of a vacation in sunlight and warmth . . . When I caught the bus just after 7 this morning, it was still  dark.  The only salvation is that we—for the moment—have a bit of snow on the ground, and it makes the difference between pitch dark and just dark.  The university building is largely glass, however, which means that while you have “street lamps” on the main corridors, all the internal light seems to be sucked out into an external emptiness—which just makes it feel even darker.  It’s impossible to not feel as if you are in the building at midnight, and if you happen to be there before the place gets busy, that feeling is emphasized in a major way.

I want sunshine, and more than 6 hours of half-light daylight.

DH now has his vacation schedule, which means that I can now figure out when the next stateside trip will be, and in the midst of work when I should—really really should—be entirely focused on student writings, Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Lee Ann Smith, and Charles Chesnutt, I find myself drifting off into summery, sunshiney thoughts, checking plane fares, and daydreaming about fibery fun.

I had hoped to be able to coordinate the trip with one of the major fiber festivals stateside, but that’s impossible.  There simply are none in the places where I’ll be at the time I’ll be there, and I won’t say how much I envy those stateside friends and spinners/knitters who have the opportunity to go.  I’m determined to make it to one eventually, but clearly that’s not going to happen this year.  So I’m half planning to make a detour via a brother and The Woolery on the way into the country just so I can ooh and ahh and goggle and add to my wish list other fibery things from a full sized fiber shop.

I’ve also realized I’ll be stateside for a month before DH arrives,  totally free from work for a change, and with no students—and no wheel.  A spindle, of course, but no wheel.  And I cannot travel with my Rose, nor the training-purposes Babe.

You do know where this is going, eh?

(photo blatantly borrowed from http://louet.com/spinning_weaving/victoria.shtml )

That’s the Louet Victoria.  It’s the only wheel I’ve found which does what I want to do and still fits within international carryon luggage size restrictions.  Have I bought it yet?  No.  Am I planning to?  At the moment, yes.  Particularly since I could arrive in Atlanta, pick it up, spin to my heart’s content in the two months I’m there, and bring it back for use with group meetings and travel here.  I want a portable wheel, but there’s no sense in buying one which is too big to be a carryon, and I refuse to check a wheel—partly because I need the space for other stuff.  You  know, clothes, fiber, chocolate chips, fiber, toiletries, fiber  . . .

And looking ahead to that wonderful month of no work and all play, I’ve reserved a Romney/Montadale fleece from SkyLines Farm so I’d have something to play with.  Specifically, Dottie, thanks to Melissa’s help in choosing.  And there are a number of others which I simply love to look at—rich, variegated colors and beautiful crimp—but let’s conquer the world one fleece at a time, shall we?

In the meantime, I’m working on turning my corner of Norway into a spinning zone.  Saturday’s intro to spindles and spinning brought back 1 established spinner, 1 learner from the previous meeting, and three new spinners.  That makes 6 new spinners, if we keep them all.  Since I’ve already heard from three and know they’re in the market for wheels (before the spindles have even gotten cold!), I think we’re on our way. 

2 February, Saturday a week, will be the first open-house regular spinning meeting, held at the local school. I’ve no clue whether to expect 1 or 10, but one must start somewhere.

In the meantime, I’ve found this:

(photo borrowed from bookchair.com )

It’s a Book Chair.  It’s the best book stand I’ve ever found.  It sits level, is sturdy, and holds a book open without a lot of straps or fidgeting, or allowing the book to shift and twist.

The best part?  I’ve found I can spin and read at the same time with it.  Admittedly I’ve only tried it for a page or two, but since I tend to spin by feel as much as by sight, I don’t have to watch the fiber in the same way I must when I knit.  So those books and texts which I have to plow through before I can talk to students next week?  They’ll be accompanied by the quiet hum of the Rose.

Actually, I’m rather pleased with myself.

Finally, a Beta. Some of you know that I’m rather sensitive to wools. Generally speaking, I only handle the fine wools. But one of the Spunky Eclectic fiber club fibers was a package of Lincoln which had been sitting in the stash. One evening when I could read and write no more, I pulled it out and span it.

The colors aren’t quite true here; they’re actually nearly Eastery in real life. And the spinning is impossibly  irregular.  The fiber was just too hard to handle (literally; not difficult, but hard) for me to do it justice, and since I wanted the learning experience, I span it anyway even though I knew it would be a mess.  It’s fairly even, but is unevenly spun, is horribly unevely plied, and it’s not something I can ever use.

I did learn a few things, though.  First, the shine of that fiber is incredible.  It’s easy to forget that pure wool can glisten.  And, of course, the tighter it’s spun, the smoother the surface and the more the light reflects—the shinier it is.  It did NOT like being spun woolen.  I tried that at first, thinking that it would soften it a bit.  Wrong.  Wrong wrong.  It ended up both fluffy and prickly in those places.  Spinning it worsted smoothed the ends into the singles and gave a smoother yarn, and increased the shine.

I haven’t even bothered to measure twists or wraps on this one.  For the eight ounces, there are 97 yards.  That’s as specific as it gets this time.  And since I cannot bear to handle it, I’ve gifted it away to a friend’s sister-in-law who happens to be an artist and who might have a use for it, even if she just uses it to tie up a few veggie plants.

I can’t take the credit for the idea of using flooring in the bag. That tip came from a Norwegian knitter who goes by the nick of Wia in Hobbyboden (hobbyboden.com), and is one of my new spinning recruits. 

Her blog is here: http://wiashobbykrok.com/blogg/.  Take a glance at her first spinning experience here:
http://wiashobbykrok.com/blogg/?p=162 .  It’s in Norwegian, but you can see the pictures if you cannot read the text.

We also have Britita:  http://britita.blogs.no.  Her first spin is here:  http://britita.blogs.no/2007/12/11/min_forst_spinneopplevelse~3427781

And Marit:   http://strikkeri.com/ (the blog is here:  http://blogg.strikkeri.com/ ).  Her first spin is here:  http://iloblog.strikkeri.com/blogg?Home&post=7.  Marit is so hooked that she’s already considering a wheel!

Seriously?  I’m proud of these gals.  And I’m looking forward to seeing them—along with a few new folks—on Saturday for another spinning intro.