Fibre Week and Beyond

Another Fibre Week at Olds College has come and gone, and once again, I have lived to tell the tale.

(For those of you who do not know about Fibre Week, a brief primer: Fibre Week is an annual celebration of all things fibre hosted by Olds College in Olds, Alberta, Canada. The centerpiece of the week is the Master Spinner/Master Weaver programming offered by the college, but the week also includes a short workshop program, a vendors' marketplace, fleeces shows and sales, and a variety of social events.)

I wear two hats at this event: Master Spinner instructor and Workshop Coordinator, so even before I got sick, Fibre Week was exhausting. Knowing this and taking my doctor's gloom and doom as a warning, I worked very hard for the week leading in to Fibre Week to organize myself so that I could conserve energy and reduce pain and impairment as much as possible.

And it worked.

I'm not going to say nothing hurt or that I didn't come home absolutely exhausted, but I did manage to drive there, shop, teach and visit, then drive home with stops to pick up furniture on the way. Much fibre was purchased. Many friends were hugged. I got to see the fashion show, which included this SAORI piece I made...

...and I had the privilege of teaching this really remarkable group of women...

The beds were hard and the food was abysmal, and there were details that we as organizers had overlooked that led to brief moments of stress, but the people and the fibre more than made up for the shortcomings. As they always do. This is why I go back, year after year.

This Fibre Week was a little different, though. Along with all the usual stress and chaos, I received a phone call on the Tuesday night that has, very literally, changed my life. My husband had been laid off from Keyano College, where he had worked for nearly 24 years, due to budget cuts and organizational changes.

I was pretty shaken by the news. I lost all interest in fibre and spinning and teaching at that moment, and just needs to be home with the partner I have shared my life with for the past 33 years. But then, after a good cry, a shot of Jack Daniels (okay, a double...or two), and a pep talk from a good friend, I decided not to pack my bags and rush home. Dealing with that crisis could wait-my husband, though in shock, was fine and we are not suddenly destitute, thanks to wise investments and a generous severance package. And I had a great class to finish teaching. There was fibre to touch and twist. I stayed and finished up my class, then had a meeting to start the planning for next year in motion.

The time and space between me and the news was probably a good thing. I did not get hysterical (after the initial panic, anyway) and, let me tell you, it sure took my mind off my disease! I left Olds feeling relaxed, with that exhausted but happy post-Fibre Week glow.

I've been home a week now. I'm busy getting ready for my next teaching trip, which is just 10 days away. And my husband and I have realized something. Something big. We can go anywhere, do anything. We are not so financially strapped that we need to find work tomorrow or starve. Our kids are grown and educated and responsible for themselves. We owe next to nothing on the tiny home we have loved for 20 plus years and only have 3 more car payments left. We are young enough to do almost anything, from farming to urban life to living on a boat for a few years.

We are free.

And the dreaming begins. 

So tell me. What would you do if you had the freedom to choose any life you wanted?

...because we're making a list!

Re-emergence

    (Image shamelessly stolen from RawForBeauty's Facebook page.)

It's been a while.

You see, I've kind of been going though some stuff. Heavy-duty stuff. Chronic pain, serious medications, physical impairment, crippling existential angst. You know, stuff nobody wants to deal with. Ever.

When I developed chronic tenosynovitis in my wrists and hands and I had to give up knitting, I felt like I had lost a little piece of my soul. So I've sort of shut down, closed myself off. Become a hermit. 

Because I was afraid.

Afraid that I would lose all the other things that I loved to do, like spinning and weaving and cooking. Afraid that without those things, my life would have no meaning. Afraid that I was exaggerating my pain or my disease (the medical term is "catastrophising"). Afraid that things would never get better, and continue getting worse. Afraid that doctors would not take me seriously. Afraid of what people would think of me. Afraid that friends would leave me if they caught a whiff of weakness or neediness. Afraid that I was not good enough anymore. Afraid that a disease had stolen my life.

Afraid that no one would read this blog anymore if I wrote whiny posts about how much rheumatoid arthritis hurts and how it is changing my life every day.

And, you know what? A lot of those things did happen. I had to cut back on the amount of spinning I do (and so a lot less worsted spinning!). And life did feel less meaningful. I was told that my pain couldn't be that bad, because it was "only tendinitis", after all. Things did get worse as the tenosynovitis spread through my body and I developed some fairly major bursitis issues, too, leading to more pain and some mobility issues. Some doctors dismissed me out of hand. Some friends simply disappeared from my life.

So I wallowed in my hermitage.

But some small spark kept me fighting. I just didn't realize how hard I WAS fighting until yesterday.

Today I see that when I cut back on spinning, it opened up more time for weaving. I see that my definition of a meaningful life is evolving, and different things give my life meaning today. I found a few compassionate medical professionals who verified that my pain was real, that it was indeed part of the journey through rheumatoid arthritis, and that there were treatment options. I have learned that moving slowly and cautiously still gets me from Point A to Point B, and that it gives me time to stop and smell the roses as I go. I have learned that doctors are fallible, and if one does not hear you, you just have to go to the next one and speak a little more clearly. And I learned that I really do have some pretty amazing friends, who love me in spite of my pain  and my newfound slowness.

So I'm beginning to see the last 6 months of my life less as a period of hiding and hermitting and more 

as a period of metamorphosis. I have been in a cocoon, buffering myself from the outside world as I grow into the new life I have to live. I am still changing, still struggling to accept limitations and alterations. I am having a hard time letting go of old beliefs and expectations. 

And here I am, slowly emerging from my cocoon, unfurling fragile and wet wings, hoping that they will be strong enough to allow me to soar. We shall see if I am ready to share my story and return to this blog.

I still have much to sort through, so bear with me. I am still learning what it means to live with chronic illness. I am restructuring my life, my entire world view. It's not easy, and it sure ain't pretty, but I'm tired of hiding and hoping it will go away. 

Let's see where the road leads.

The Truth About "True Woolen"

I've been laying low and spinning for the past few weeks, with sporadic bursts of baking and holiday gatherings thrown in to keep things interesting. I've been pondering the projects I am taking on, preparing for my 2013 workshops, and writing. And all of this means I have been thinking way to much about the minutiae of our craft.

So I was deep in this place of over-thinking when the dreaded phrase that never fails to raise my blood pressure came up again. This phrase is one commonly used in technical spinning circles, but it's definition varies from expert to expert. It is a phrase that strikes terror in the hearts of spinners everywhere. And it is a lie. This phrase is "TRUE WOOLEN".

Spot the "true" woollen. C'mon, I dare ya!

 As spinners, we all want to do it "right". We want to make our yarns in the best traditional manner we can. But few of us actually understand the physics and mechanics of making the yarn, even the most experienced of us. We rely on the experts and gurus who have taught us for the correct language, the proper terminology, and the correct definition of the terms. As a teacher, I have seen dozens of people who have spun, successfully, for years suddenly throw everything they know out the window because a famous teacher told them that they were doing it "wrong".

Now, I am not a fan of the "there is no right or wrong" school of spinning, either. I do believe that some techniques are more effective than others, and that learning these techniques and refining them will make you a better spinner.  And, sometimes, you have to learn the less-effective techniques, too. Learning the "wrong" thing will often help you understand the "right" thing. There are several very effective ways to make yarn, each with its own virtues and shortcomings, each with a very specific outcome. It is learning which techniques works best for the result you want that sets you free to be a great spinner.

As I see it, the problem does not lie in the "right" and "wrong" techniques. It lies in the language we use to describe these techniques. And some of the most misleading and inaccurate language exists in the phrase "true woolen".

Here's what's wrong with that phrase: "true woolen" is far too often used to describe a drafting technique rather than the yarn. Woolen and worsted are words that describe YARNS, not techniques. I cringe every time I hear someone say, "I'm working on perfecting my worsted drafting." or some such other twaddle. (Though I will admit that I frequently joke that "that's some of the worsted drafting I've ever seen!") I reiterate: worsted is NOT a drafting technique. Nor is woollen. They are the resultant yarns.

Briefly, to clarify: A woolen yarn is one in which the fibres, after spinning, plying, and finishing, lie in a non-parallel arrangement. The fibres, when examined, will be jumbled in all directions, pushing outward and making a fuzzy, lofty yarn. A worsted yarn, on the other hand, is one in which the fibres, after spinning, plying, and finishing, lie parallel to each other. These fibres will be arranged in a smooth, linear manner, pulled close together and pushing up and down along the length of a smooth, compact yarn.

For the uninitiated, worsted is on the left, woolen is on the right.

What determines whether a yarn is woolen or worsted is NOT how long your drafting zone is, or how fast or slow you draft, or whether you double draft or not. It is how the twist enters the fibre and how it stays there. There are several steps to creating a woolen or a worsted yarn, which I will not go into in detail here today. Let it suffice to say that selection and preparation of fibres, spinning techniques (including spinning wheel set-up!), plying, and finishing techniques are all factors in making these different styles of yarns successfully. And the more of these steps that are appropriate to the style of the yarn, the closer to "true" woolen or worsted we get.

Woolen yarns are best spun from non-parallel arrangements of fibre, such as roving or rolags. However, there are ways of spinning parallel arrangements, such as sliver or top, to achieve a woolen result. It's just easier to start the way you intend to continue. Non-parallel arrangements will obviously be easier to turn into non-parallel yarns, and vice-versa for parallel arrangements. Drafting techniques that allow the fibres to stay non-parallel (i.e. by not pulling them out straight before allowing the twist in) will obviously keep those fibres in that configuration.

And it is at this point that I get a little testy. There is pretty much one way to draft a worsted yarn: by pulling the fibres straight and guiding twist in with your lead hand. There are several ways to draft a woolen yarn, all variations on a theme. We attenuate (pull the fibres into a thin line) and allow the twist to go where it will. We do not guide the twist in, we do not control or compact our fibres with our lead hand. We pull those fibres thin over a space of a few inches, or we can pull them out to the full extension of our arm. We can pinch fibres to control the rate at which the twist grabs them, or we can let the twist travel unimpeded. (We call the first "supported long draw" and the latter "unsupported long draw".) We can use a Scotch-tension wheel, or a bobbin-led, or a double-drive. Or a spindle. No matter how fast or slow we draft, no matter how long we pull back, these techniques all achieve the same result: a non-parallel yarn.

Adherents of the "true woolen" draft insist that we must draft quickly and with little control, relying on "double-drafting" (another bugaboo--don't get me started!) to smooth out our yarns. They sneer at slow, controlled drafting, or at "supported" drafting as being less than traditional and resulting in inferior yarns. They tell us that other methods make our yarns "too tight for woollen", or worse, the dreaded "semi-woolen".  They tell us that woolen yarns must be, by definition, uneven in the singles, lumpy and slubby. They tell us that we cannot make a lace-weight or thin woolen, that woolen must be thick to be lofty. They are wrong, or at least inaccurate, on all counts. The simple fact of the matter is, if you do not guide the twist into fully parallel fibres over a short, controlled space, you are making a woolen yarn. Tight, loose, even, uneven, thick, thin, semi-, hemi-, or demi-, WOOLEN.

 I think it is time to put a stop to this nonsense. We have got to stop labelling one drafting method as a "true woolen" technique, and we have to start looking at what the language of our craft means. Let's stop using the word "woolen" to talk about drafting and start using the proper words like long-draw and short-draw. Let's stop quibbling over "supported" and "unsupported". Let's make the yarn that we want to make, in the best way that works for us and stop putting false labels on the way we do it.

Lets make yarn that is true for us.

An Act of Shameless Self-Promotion

For those of you in the Vancouver/Lower Mainland region of British Columbia (or those of you who can get there on this short notice), I would like to remind you that Fibres West is coming up next weekend.  Why? Because I will be there, teaching, and my classes still have space.

So, in a blatant act of shameless self-promotion, I am here to say:  COME TAKE A CLASS!

My class sizes are quite small right now, but the organizers have decided to go right ahead and run them anyway.  I love small classes, because I get more one-on-one time with each student, which is great for you, too. And the organizers have agreed to keep registration open right up to the start of class time, so you impulsive types can just show up in the morning and join in!

The classes I will be teaching next weekend are:

Friday, March 16, I will be offering an abridged version of my most popular workshop, Spinning Super Socks.  We will cover fibre selection, worsted-style spinning, spinning to a specific twist per inch, and self-striping socks.  The cost is a low $90 for registration, plus a measly $15 paid to me for materials.

Saturday, March 17, I will teach Simply Elegant Spindle Spinning.  Learn how to spin, or improve your spinning, on a suspended (drop) spindle.  Perfect for yarn lovers who are ready to take the next step, or for those of you who wheel spin and wish your wheel was more portable.  This class is relaxed and gentle, and a lot of fun. (And it will be taking place on St. Paddy's Day, so who knows what shenanigans may ensue!) Registration is $90, and materials are only $10.

Classes both days run 10-4, with a lunch break.

So, if you have some free time on your hands, or were considering taking a class, or really, really want to get your hands into some nice fibre, go to Fibres West's website and check out the details.  And if you don't want to take a class with me, there are several other fine classes with space available, too.  And vendors.  Did I mention that there will be vendors? 

So head on out to Abbotsford.  Take a class.  Shop.  Revel in the fibery goodness. Or just drop by and say hi.

(But, seriously, you should take my class. Really.)

January Blues

No, this is not a post about post-festive-season depression.  It's a post about being in a colour rut. (Though a rut is a depression of a sort...)

You see, I've been doing a studio tidy this past week.  I really haven't touched things since getting home from the Tucson/Sedalia trip, aside from shoving piles back and forth to make a tiny space to work in.  I hadn't even unpacked some of the things I had purchased on that trip!  But now that things have slowed down, I was beginning to find the climbing over boxes and shoving of piles annoying, so it was time to tidy.

The job is not quite done--there are still all the circular needles to sort and put away, and a pile of UFOs to frog and store, and one more bin of odd balls that have no home--but the studio is a viable work space again.  But now, as I sit in my comfy spinning chair, I look around and can't help but notice an alarming trend.

I've got the blues.

The blues are waiting to be spun...

...in a variety of painted tops and rovings.

The blues are spun and awaiting knitting...

...in the form of 780 yards of Merino/yak/silk 3-ply, about 1600 ypp/20 wpi.

The blues are freshly dyed...

...in the form of the Paco-vicuna I posted last week, dyed rather spontaneously with a random (and, therefore, unrepeatable-d'oh!) mix of Ciba cobalt and Telana turquoise dyes.

More blues await knitting...

...in the form of handpainted yarns lined up for commission pieces.

The blues are even lurking in other yarns...

...like this 110 yards of bulky corespun made from a batt named "Calistoga" blended by Sayra at Atomic Blue.  Sure, it's mostly greens, but that blue is there.  Mocking me.

The blues are even evident in the UFO pile...

So, am I in a rut?  Or am I, like Picasso, just going through a Blue Period?

In any event, it's January, and I have the blues.  Lots and lots of blues!

Optimism. Or Not.

I'm sitting here this morning feeling all mellow and relaxed and really not caring that I have Important Real Life Things to do.  Things like going to the store to buy soy sauce and baking powder.  Things like getting my glasses repaired.  Things like folding those two loads of towels on the couch.

Instead, I'm sitting here, knitting away on a sweater for Steve and pondering.  Pondering what to do with this...

...340 yards of Paco-Vicuna (28 g), about an 18s/52 wpi.  It is going to be something lacy, of course.  Possibly an Emily Shawl (Rav link).  But the real question is to dye or not to dye.  The natural colour is a lovely, rich, warm beige that I hate to cover up, but beige and I decided to part ways a few years back when my hair turned white.  Blue would be better, but the natural is so pretty.  So I knit and stare and ponder.

And very now and then I get up and check on this...

...Big Pile o' Mo.  Because checking it every five minutes will make it dry faster.  I spent part of yesterday washing marvellous kid mohair locks in natural colours with the vision of a fabulous monochromatic tail-spun yarn that will become the most glorious scarf in the history of the Universe.  But mohair dries in January at about the same rate molasses flows in January.  So I check and I ponder the marvellous yarn yet to come.

All this knitting and checking and pondering has led my mind down a few stray paths, too.  Which brings me to the topic of today's sermon.  Optimism, or the lack thereof.

I am an optimistic person.  Not like Pollyana optimistic, where everything is wonderful all the time.  I do have a little to much skepticism for that, and 50 years of living in the Real World had taught me a lesson or two on tempering optimism with caution.  But I'm essentially a glass-half-full kind of person.  (See the above hopeful delusion that mohair will dry quickly in January.)

This does not mean that I don't notice the bad things.  Or that I don't complain.  I do both.  Lots.  But I get over it, or find a way to turn it around.  I make a joke and move on and embrace the joy in life.

But lately, it has struck me that I am in a minority.  (I may not actually be, but it just seems that everybody is so full of gloom and doom.)  My Facebook and Twitter is full of complaint and misery.  Some seem to delight in reposting news stories of death and mayhem and tragedy of operatic proportions.  Others are sharing the suffering of their New Years resolution diets or the dark days of January (for which I actually do feel some sympathy).   A few are trying to pick political fights-Albertan and American (Neither contest is looking like it's going to be pretty, even to us optimists). There are even a couple who have made disparaging comments on the positive posts of others.  (It may be getting close to time for a Friend Purge...)

Even the Real World seems to be in a bad mood.  On two separate occasions this past week, strangers in check-out lines started conversations with me.  Normally, this would delight me, but these conversations were just openings for them to vent their spleens to a stranger.  (And, as a side note, to the man who believes that photoradar is just a cash grab by the Municipality because they nailed you 3 times on the same stretch of road:  STOP SPEEDING and the Municipality will stop grabbing your cash.  Just sayin'.)  Cashiers and servers grumble about the winter weather, which, in my opinion, has been exceptionally mild this year.  Well, okay, they reply, then say "but just wait, we're gonna get nailed."

You know, when you dwell on the negative, pretty soon it's all you see.  I'm pretty sure that there are a lot of people out there who are missing some pretty awesome adventures because all they can see are the roadblocks.  There is a silver lining to every cloud, but there seem to be a lot of people noticing the cloud to every silver lining these days.

So is it just the January Blues?  Or is everybody depressed because the Mayans are going to end the world this year. (Or because the Family Radio Network failed to do so last year?)  Or is this because there is too much bisphenol-A in our drinking water? Or do this many people just see the glass as half empty?

Well, you know what the optimist in me says to that?

"Glass half-full. Glass half-empty. Who cares?  We've still got wine either way!"

Postcards from the Road: Tucson

Greetings from Tucson!

Well, actually, greetings from the Albuquerque airport.  I've (reluctantly) left Tucson behind to travel onward to Sedalia, MO.  I say (reluctantly) because Tucson was FABULOUS!

My visit began with a warm airport welcome from my hostesses for the week Jill and Lura and only got better and better.  Except for one day, but we'll get to that.

Little did I know that plans had been made for me upon my arrival.  The visit began with a trip to the woodshop of spindle maker extraordinaire Ken Ledbetter...

...which was literally stacked floor to ceiling with spindles-to-be. 

I was given a sneak-peak at his new Russian and Tibetan spindles, as well.  And yes, the spindle collection was enhanced!

Then we scooted over to an arts and crafts sale where Lura was selling some of her glorious weaving with her partners Mary and Barbara, who joined us for dinner before I was whisked away to the Tucson Music Hall for a performance of Shrek: The Musical.  All in all a wonderful day, and I felt most spoiled by all the treats.

That would have been enough to make any trip worthwhile, but the week went from great to indescribably fabulous the next morning when we travelled in to Crizmac Marketplace and met the Master Spinner class.  What a wonderful group of women!  It was a joy to teach such an enthusiastic, inquisitive, and daring group of students.

The facility, as most off-campus facilities do, presented a wee bit of challenge for Level One, which is a pretty wet and messy level.  The shop itself is lovely...

...and filled with charming and colorful Fair Trade goods from around the world, with a particular emphasis on Mexico.  Our classroom was a little warm on some of the hotter days, and it was a little cozy washing our fleeces...

...but we all survived.  And will live to laugh about it.  Eventually. (And Level 2  would fit in there nicely...)

Tuesday was a day of woolen and worsted, carding and working with fleeces.  The route home that day included a stop into Kiwi Knitting Company's fabulous little shop, just across from the historic Rincon Market.  Kiwi is the home to this fabulous yarn-stormed bicycle...

...which is apparently driven by this guy...

...knit by Jill Holbrook.

We did stuff Wednesday.  I know we did, but I can't really remember what.  Master Spinner stuff, I'm sure-I have a lesson plan somewhere to prove it.  But Thursday, I remember very well.  Too well.

I like to do the Level 1 dye day on the Thursday of the week.  We have covered all of the key topics by then, and everybody's brain is overfilled and leaking a little, so the change of pace is very welcome.  Usually, dye day is physically gruelling, but kind of fun.  Well, for me, it was just plain gruelling.

You see, I woke up in the night with a wee tummy-ache.  Which became a REALLY BIG tummy-ache.  By 2 a.m, I was worshipping at the great porcelain altar.  By 6 a.m., I was pretty sure all I had left to throw up was my own innards, but the fun continued until nearly noon.

Meanwhile, there were 10 people waiting to learn to dye with natural materials.  So, green about the gills as I was, I trooped in, pointed vaguely in the general direction of some dye pots and turned them loose.  Apparently, they figured it out...

...and fabulous colours were made.

I took a nap.

Then I was given the miracle cure.  There is a local food chain called Eegee's and they sell a frozen lemonade drink called, oddly enough, an Eegee.  An Eegee was what I needed.  That and 12 solid hours of sleep.  And I was up and atom again on Friday morning for a day of blending and spindle spinning with the gang.

We wrapped up the class and all (well, mostly all-some had other commitments) went out to dinner together.  Where we were joined by wonderfully supportive spouses and by another Master Spinner student, Carl, who had been in my class in North Carolina a few years ago...

...Carl is an Arizonan (Arizonanian? What do you call folks who live in Arizona?) now and dropped by for a visit with his family.  La Parilla Suiza had no idea what had hit it--15 people all talking spinning and sipping margaritas.  A great wrap-up to the week!

I had planned to spend Saturday touring around Tucson, but you know what they say about best-laid plans.  I spent Saturday napping and knitting and staring and regrouping.  And now, here I am , on the way to Sedalia.  I know Sedalia will also be fabulous, but it's gonna have to work pretty darned hard to top last week in Tucson. (I would, however, be thrilled if we could avoid the day of blech this time around, okay?)

Big hugs to my class from Tucson.  Thank you all so much for being who you are.  I hope you are resting and recouping after a pretty tough week, and that those of you who have to travel are having safe journeys. 

Now, get cracking on that homework!

Ain't No Cure

...for the Summertime Blues.

No, I'm not gonna raise a fuss, I'm not gonna raise a holler.  I'm just immersed in a world of blues.  The colour, that is, not the emotion.

So much has gone on since my last post.  It's been another month of whirlwind travel, bracketed by various plagues and pestilences.  There has been garden upkeep, and the madness of Fibre Week planning for 2012.  There has been SOAR preparation, and the first of 4 local workshops.  There was a kidney stone (ouch!), and a knee injury (ouch again!), and a really nasty cold.  But in between the chaotic moments have appeared wee moments of spinning, knitting, and dyeing.  And it seems that the colour of choice is blue.

First, though, the travel.  I turned the big five-oh last month.  When my family asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I told them that I wanted to be with them.  That's all.  So they put their heads together and came up with a plan to whisk me to Vancouver, where my two older children live, then take a family trip to Gibsons.  It was FABULOUS!

We spent the big day out on the ocean, kayaking around Gibsons and Keats Island...

...and I had my 4 favorite people in the world with me.  (The fourth is wielding the camera for this picture!)

We may have been a little silly...

...but it was just what I needed.

And now I'm 50, and I've got the Blues.

Blues like this one...

...handspun Blue-faced Leicester/silk blend, mordanted with copper and dyed in logwood.  Logwood usually gives purples, and you can certainly see the purple cast in the yarn, but the copper sulphate mordant darkens it to a stunning navy blue.  (The mordant also serves to make the notoriously unstable logwood a little more colourfast.)

I'm currently transforming this yarn into Sivia Harding's Harmonia's Rings Sweater...

...in what passes for free time around here these days.

The blue theme continues onto the spinning wheel...

...with this lovely little yarn.  The fibre is a batt that I purchased from Lynne Anderson of West Coast Colors at Fibre Week, and the blend is 60% Merino, 20% yak, and 20% silk.  Yes, indeed, it IS as yummy as it sounds, and Lynne's batts are a wonder to spin.  (In fact, I relieved her of a few more while I was out on the Coast!)

Then there is a little novelty yarn that was inspired by Jacey's workshop...

I really love coils, and this fibre just called out to be coiled.  The blues lean toward aqua, but, hey, blue is blue.

Then, there is this today's little distraction...

...a lovely little batt from Atomic Blue.  (Blue by Blue!)

So there you have it.  From sitting on blue seas...

...to sitting under blue skies...

...spinning and knitting with blue fibre, I clearly have a case of the Summertime Blues.

WHOOSH!

That was the sound of the last month flying by!

Holy cats!  Have I been busy!  Doing awesome things.  Here is a highlight package:

I went to a workshop with Jacey Boggs...

...shown here splitting top.  Yes, you heard me.  Splitting top.  We made yarns that should seem wrong to a technical spinner, but were actually really right.

You see, it turns out that under that wacky "art yarn" surface lurks a highly technical spinner, with a fascination with how things work and why.  I kinda had to bite my tongue a couple of times to keep from finishing her sentences for her, because her philosophies and mine are almost identical.  (She also dislikes the label "art yarn".  With good reason.  That phrase has been applied to a lot of bad spinning.  Bad spinning is not art, it is bad spinning.  True art yarn is not bad spinning, but Jacey calls her yarns "textured yarns", which works for me.)

Plus we made funky yarns.

Oh, and Jacey, if you see this, I DID add enough twist to the core for my art batt corespun...

...lovely balanced corespun.  I think I have also developed a new love for those crazy batts that have always seemed so pointless.  (The ones we used in the workshop were from Atomic Blue, and they were amazing!  I will be spinning some more of her batts.)

When the workshop was over, I was wending my way homeward when I was kidnapped and taken to a Pirate Island...

...that I really didn't want to leave.

Actually, Liz...

...and Mark were very gracious hosts, who plied me with steaks and wine, then put me to bed in "The Hilton", a guest house on family property on Protection Island just off of Nanaimo.  I was treated like a queen, and I really didn't want to leave.

But leave I did.  I headed back to Vancouver and spent another couple of days wandering the beaches and hanging out with my fabulous kiddos.  Then home.  For 5 whole days.

Back on the road, this time to Fibre Week at Olds College.  My Alma Mater and one of the highlights of every year.

This year, I volunteered to step in to run the Kids Camp as well as teaching the Master Spinner Program.  It seemed like a good idea at the time...

...and it turned out to be as exhausting as it sounds.  But fun.  I managed to keep 6 kids, ranging in age from 7-12,  relatively busy--look at everything we did in 2 days!

Then I tidied the classroom and taught Level 3 of the Master Spinners Program.  I had a fabulous class.  Again.  (Really, I have never had a Master Spinner class who were not fabulous.  Seriously.  Master Spinner types are just fabulous.  That's all there is to it.)

We did all those Level 3 things that we do.  There was tpi, cotton, and nature dyeing...

...with spectacular results!

There was the dreaded making of mawatas from silk cocoons, complete with the icky little critters inside...

And much fantastic spinning going on...

The best part of Fibre Week for me always happens outside of the classroom.  The fashion show, the vendors, the people.  There is always so much going on, and the opportunity to make new friends, and touch base with long-standing friends (notice I did not use the word "old" about my friends!).  I had the great pleasure of getting to know the remarkable Sivia Harding, along with getting reacquainted with Patsy Zawistoski and Joan Ruane.  I got to hang with friends like Rosemary Harris, Marg Sjostrom,  and Jean Curry, all of whom are now my fellow instructors. (Jean teaches for the Master Weaver Program, but we like her anyway.  *winky face*) I shared a glass of wine with former students who are all preparing to face Level 6 next year and become Masters themselves.

Then, bang!  It was over.  I drove home.  I slept for the better part of two days.  Then I just had to spin.  So I spun, and spun, and spun.  And today, I dye. 

I have a few more days of relative peace and quiet, which I will spend... you guessed it:  spinning.  You see, I have this batt of Merino/yak/silk that followed me home from Fibre Week.  And the sun is shining.

The patio calls...

Excuses, Excuses

"Why hasn't Michelle been blogging?"

"I hope she's okay--do you think she was hit by a bus?"

"Has she been travelling?"

"Maybe she slipped through a wormhole, and is now living in another dimension where there is more time in a day?"

"If so, she should have time to blog..."

Yes, I can hear your thoughts as you ponder yet another drought on this blog.  The truth is that I have been busy.  Doing...stuff.

Stuff like knitting this shawl...

Queen Anne's Lace by MMario KKnits (Ravelry link) out of the yarn that I featured in this post.  Obsessively knitting all 165 rows of the chart, each row different enough to drive a sane woman mad.

Or stuff like knitting this shawl...

Swallowtail by Evelyn Clark.  Made with Kid Seta mohair/silk blend.  For no apparent reason, except to answer a question for a friend. 

Or stuff like spinning and plying 300 g of alpaca/silk/cashmere blend into 970 yards of  sportweight yarn, with another 300 g to go.  Or stuff like spinning three bobbins of singles in BFL/silk blend, worsted weight.  Or stuff like knitting and frogging and knitting and frogging my apparently never-to-be-finished Penelope top. 

Of course, I've been doing all of the usual stuff, too, like cooking, and laundry, and driving a teenager to and from work.  And dealing with the destruction construction crew that is doing the renovations on the outside of our townhouse. And walking the dog and getting the garden ready.  You know, stuff.

Important stuff.

"I think Michelle sounds a little defensive, don't you?"

"Yep, I think she is listing all of these things she has done to hide something else..."

ALL RIGHT! I CONFESS!!

I have been doing all of this stuff, I really have.  But the real reason I have not been blogging is, well, because I have a new love.  Her name is Esmeralda, and I have been spending every spare moment with her...

It's true what they say about riding a bicycle by the way...it's as if I've never stopped, even though I haven't been on a bike for over 20 years.  I had forgotten how free you feel, with the wind in your face and your feet pedalling like mad.   I had forgotten how far you can go under your own steam, and how the world looks from the seat of a bicycle.  I'm just a wee bit enamored of the whole thing right now.

So, I do apologise for not keeping you updated on all of my doings for the past month, but...

Found Time

I am home, safe, warm, and sick.  Well, okay, I'm recovering from being sick.

And I was suddenly faced with 2 weeks of time that I had not previously had at my disposal.  Found time, as it were.

After my little adventure in Vancouver, I flew home to -35 degree temperatures and a fabulous head cold that laid me flat out for three or four days.  Then, just as I was feeling better, that nasty little virus came back for another swing at me.  I did little to nothing for my first week of found time, except for sleep.

I have, however, been checking my emails and Facebook, and I do have to send warm thanks to everyone who wrote or checked-in.  Your support and understanding has been amazing, and I know that things will work out in the end.

Having said that, this has become my new theme song:



I am up and about again, and as my sinuses dry up, I have been spinning.

I finished up the stunning sock yarn that I started from fibre dyed by the incomparable Sarah Wilson (theytoldmesew on Etsy), in colors specially chosen for me...

...3-ply BFL/silk blend, 6 tpi, and 18 wpi.  It is being knit into a lacy sock that plays with the almost luminescent quality of the yarn. 

Then I finished up the second bobbin of bison/Merino/silk/qiviut blend from Ancient Arts Fibre Crafts and plied it up...

...2-ply, 5 tpi, 20 wpi, and as cushy and as soft as you would expect from the blend of lovely soft things that went into it.

Then, for no apparent reason, I decided I needed some woollen Cormo...

...2-ply,  5 tpi, 12 wpi, cushy and soft, too.

There is now some baby alpaca/silk/cashmere on the wheel, because once I started spinning I didn't want to stop!

Except, of course, to cast on a second lace shawl.  Because one set of insane little charts is not quite enough to drive me mad.  Actually, the aforementioned Sarah Wilson asked me a simple question about Swallowtail, and I had to cast it on to work the answer through...and I just kept going. 

I haven't just sat and spun for ages, let alone knit not one, but two shawls.

It's a good thing I found all this time laying around.  Better use it up quick before someone else comes along and claims it.

Messin' With Ur Space/Time Continium

There is nothing wrong with my life that couldn't be fixed by a clone and a wormhole.  It's that simple.  If there were 2 of me and we could both bend space and time, everything would be peachy...

(Please note that the misspelling of "continuum" in the post title is the lol cat's, not mine!)
I've whined before about the lack of time in any given day, and I shall whine again.  I occasionally always bite off more than I can chew.  This time around it is 3 Master Spinners classes in 3 cities in 3 weeks.  Which means I am prepping for 3 full weeks of travel, organizing 3 separate classes, in 3 different (and unknown) venues, working with 3 different coordinators. I'm sourcing and shipping materials and rounding up resources and equipment.  And packing, packing, packing.  (That's 3 weeks worth of packing.  Get it?!? Hah!)

On top of that, I am finalizing contracts and workshop information with 2 other festivals and negotiating a couple of local natural dye workshops.  My inbox resembles Grand Central Station right now.

Add to that the addition of my new exercise regimen, intended to help my knee heal without surgical intervention, and all of the day-to-day joys of domestic living, and the day is over before it starts.

One thing that I promised myself I would do in 2011, though, is find time to spin.  Every day.  And, no matter what else is going on, that time is found.  Every day.

Unfortunately, I have not seen the fruits of this dedicated effort until this week...

...which, I suppose is what I deserve for starting the year off with 1300 yards (1188m) of laceweight worsted 2-ply.  For those of you into stats, that is 175 g, 12 tpi, with a Count of 12s, 147RTex/2, 36 wraps per inch.   For those of you not into stats, that is lots and lots of fairly fine yarn.

It is, as my friend Marg says, a skein of great beauty.  The fibre is from Kimber Baldwin at Fiber Optic, 80% Merino/20% silk, gradation dyed from deep indigo to gold...

...with the colors blending brilliantly in between.

And what do I see when I look at this cake of yarn?  A swirling vortex...or...A WORMHOLE.

I have cast on and am now knitting Queen Anne's Lace from MMarioKknits (Rav link) to play up the swirl of colors from dark to light, and if I may say so, the yarn is brilliant.

So, I am well on my way to having that wormhole I need.  Now to work on the clone...