Six Short Stories About March

So much has happened in the last couple of weeks that life has become a blur! In lieu of my usual long, rambling blog post, here are some quick snapshots of my March:

1.) I bought A LOT of Angelina fibre. I'm all about the glitz these days, and I set out to order 3 or four colors. But Laura from Legacy Studio kept tempting me. In the end, there are 18 baggies in 8 colors. Oooooh, sparkly!

2.) My son's production of The Rocky Horror Show opened last week, and it's fabulous! Funny, sexy, and waaay over the top! I designed the set (sort of), Steve built it, Brendan produced, directed and designed costumes. A bit of a family affair. Brendan has done a marvelous job of surrounding himself with passionate, talented and...interesting people, and will probably not need his old Mom the next time around, but it was a thrill (and a bit of stress) to be involved with this project.

3.) For some reason, it seemed like a good idea to handcard 60 orange heather rolags one afternoon. Then for some reason, it seemed like a good idea to have a hot bath and rub Voltaren on my shoulders and not do anything for two days.

4.) There was a lot of orange spun. The darker orange is a Corriedale/silk blend. Spun worsted, lace-weight (about 50 wpi), 320 yards. The heather is still being plied, but so far, I have one skein of 305 yards, woollen, about the same grist. There is one more orange yarn in the planning stages, then the project will take shape. One hopes!

5.) To relieve the stress, I spun a little corespun mohair yarn. There are 95 yards at about 24 wpi. The core yarn is lace-weight Corriedale top (with a little left over), spun S and plied Z, and the outer layer is hand-dyed mohair locks that were loosely carded. Mmmmm, soft and fuzzy!



6.) You may have read about Karen Wolverton, co-owner of Lush Canada, painting herself red and laying on a bloody Canadian flag to protest the seal hunt. Well, part of that is a lie. She did not paint herself red, my daughter, the lovely and talented Miss Lexi Boyd, painted her.

Those are just a few things that happened in March. There was also a sweater completed, a soccer tournament (knitting + soccer mom=tink), a birthday, exams, and a minor collapse from exhaustion.

Bring on April!

No Strings

Hey! Remember me?

Yeah, it's been a while. I was trapped in that time-warping black hole that is Theatre again.

On Tuesday, March 10 and Wednesday, March 11 Thickwood Heights Theatrix presented their 24th annual production. This year's show was No Strings Attached, a Pinocchio story with a singing and dancing cast of 58 children ranging from grades 4 to 8. And, of course, a stellar set design by yours truly.

We started about a month ago, with Steve and his crew building sets and me and my crew painting the backdrops...

...while the kids rehearsed in the music room and the gym....

...then we hit the big stage at Keyano Theatre.

Here are The Cricket and her bug chorus, giving Pinocchio what-for.

And there was mayhem when Pinocchio and his buddy Dipstick run off to the land of Hedonia and get turned into donkeys.

My favorite piece of the set, though, is the giant shark that swallows Gepetto. This guy was so much fun to design and build. He is a wooden boat with a copper tube frame covered in an amazing translucent silver fabric from the bargain corner in Fabricland. (I wanted to buy the whole bolt, but cooler heads prevailed.) Mr. Sharky opens his mouth to reveal Gepetto sitting in his boat inside. Too clever, by half, if I may say so myself.

Sadly, Mr. Sharky wound up in the dumpster on Wednesday night, which is the downside of set design. I all gets torn apart and thrown away when the actors are done. Which is sort of a downer for the designer, let me tell you. But, as my very wise husband told me once, " Nobody goes home from a musical humming the set."

I've been thinking about the old metaphor that making theatre is like having a baby, and I see it clearly now. The first few months, you're all excited, but a little nauseous. Then things start to grow, and you start anticipating the future. And when you get to your due date, you are pretty sure you don't want to go through with it. Then it happens, and you're thrilled and exhausted, and pretty sure that's the last time you'll ever do that! After a few months, though, the stretch marks fade and the memory of the pain becomes blurry, and you start talking about when the next one will come along. This is why I have 3 kids, and why I have done the Thickwood Heights Theatrix productions for 10 years now.

(The big difference is that you get into a lot of trouble when you throw your baby into the dumpster! Oh, my poor, beautiful Sharky!)

I also pitched in backstage as the make-up designer and artist, and to offer moral support to my Miss Julia, who played Pinocchio. I believe I may be taking the stage mother thing a little too far, but I have yet to yell "Sing out, Louise!" for real.

All in all, it's been an exhausting couple of weeks, and I have been away from my spinning wheels so long that there is dust on them!

So, to sum it up, I have spent the last 3 weeks making No Strings!

(Ba-dump-dump Ching!)

Beyonce Stole My Bling!!

In a fit of creative genius, I sat down to spin an art yarn a couple of weeks back.

Inspired by a pack of red sequins, Dorothy's ruby slippers, and the Queen of Hearts...

...BLING! Though I often wrestle with the merits of art yarns, this one is a beauty, spun up strictly for the fun of it. The fibres involved are Ashford Corriedale top and nylon/polyester metallic thread, along with hundreds of little red sequins. A soft thick'n'thin Corriedale single was plied with metallic thread threaded with the sequins, then I plied again with the metallic thread, using an uneven ply and the technique for making "cloud" yarns to create spots of metallic red twist throughout. The end result was a little overplied, but a good hot bath and a hang with a little weight fixed that up nicely.

Oooh, the soft-focus glamour shot! Sexy!

So, as my lovely little bit of glitz was hanging from the knob on the door of my entertainment unit to dry, I was watching the Oscars. Not a bad show, overall, until the tribute to the musical movies of the past. I was about to go fix myself a snack until it was over when this little number caught my eye:

What's that Beyonce is wearing? And why is my sparkly yarn dangling from it?!?

I actually had to glance over to the side of the entertainment unit to make sure the yarn hadn't just crept into the TV. It was till there. I was stunned. How could this be?

It seemed a little strange to me that 50 g of fibre only made 95 yard of yarn. Could someone have snuck in and stolen some for Beyonce's costume? Surely, Teagan the Wonder Schnoodle would have protected the yarn from intruders--or licked the intruders to death--so the theft scenario seems implausible.

Could I be psychically linked with Beyonce? I have been listening to the song "Single Ladies" a lot lately....but no, that seems pretty implausible too.

The only conclusion that I can draw is that Beyonce's spies have been watching me spin this yarn and they told the costume designer about it. It couldn't possibly be just a coincidence. No way!

So from now on, I have to spin with the blinds drawn.

Or stop making such damn sexy yarn!

The Rebirth of Knitting Cool

ATTENTION ALL KNITTING GRANNIES!!

This little news story came to my attention via Ravelry this morning. There was some mildly indignant discussion attached to it, with many knitters pointing out that knitting has been growing in popularity since long before the economy tanked and not as a response to the current economic woes. Or that not all knitters are grannies. The biggest beef, though, seems to be with the closing comment that "this is one hobby that doesn't take a lot of dough". Many of the forum posters point to this statement as clear evidence of the reporter's ignorance of our craft. Speaking as someone who is currently knitting with a yarn that cost me $25 a skein, I would have to concur!

There are a great many of us fibre lover types who seem to get quite agitated when non-crafters misrepresent our beloved techniques. (Don't get me started on the whole spinning wheel thing in Disney's Sleeping Beauty! ) The stereotypes of knitting grannies and frilly little toilet paper cozies abound out there. But this weekend, I had the pleasure of seeing two movies that countered those stereotypes. Two movies about "cool" fiberistas! I was blown away!

We have been working hard to get caught up on our movie viewing around here. We're usually big movie fans and see lots of great and not-so-great flicks, and now we have about a dozen movie channels on cable, but we've fallen woefully behind. We have, however, accumulated all of the summer blockbusters on DVD and have been chipping away at the pile.

Friday night, we watched Wanted, starring James McAvoy, Morgan Freeman, and Angelina Jolie. I'm a bit of an action movie fan anyway, but everyone told me that I had to see this one. Now I know why--it's about the most kick-ass gang of weavers ever! I will not give away the plot details, but suffice it to say that there is a little preface that tells us that 1,000 years ago a group of weavers established this elite assassination squad. I actually had to skip back and check the DVD because I thought I had misread. But, no, it said weavers. And, let me tell you, if more weavers acted like the characters in this movie, nobody would ever mess with us again!

So, that was pretty cool.

The next night we watched Zach and Miri Make a Porno. (WARNING! Not for the faint of heart! Pretty damn raunchy, actually.) I am also a Kevin Smith fan, though I totally understand that not everyone appreciates his sensibility. But, as we are watching away (and laughing our asses off), I commented that there were a lot of conspicuously handknit scarves and hats (some of which, frankly, were pretty bad). Then Miri says that she got to try some clothes because she gave a sales clerk a deal on wool. SHE WORKS IN A YARN SHOP! The movie is crass, but hilarious, and remarkably sweet. I loved it a lot. So we're watching the deleted scenes, and there is a scene where Miri is getting dressed while Zach starts the car. She runs into her room, and there, right beside her bed, is her stash!

I think I actually squealed a little.

I've also heard rumors of knitting content in Lars and the Real Girl, but I'm having trouble getting my hands on a copy.

And, lest we forget, Marge Simpson is a knitter. As is Emerson Cod on Pushing Daisies.

So, for every Ford truck commercial that tells us that you can settle for a lesser vehicle "if all you're hauling is yarn" (Clearly, the folks at Ford have never seen my stash!), there is Angelina Jolie catching a flying shuttle with her bare hand. And for every knitting granny, there is Seth Rogan wearing a chunky blue scarf and talking about pornography. The cool is beginning to balance those stereotypes.

And, for those who still wish to cling to the image of knitting or spinning or weaving as the domain of little old ladies, may I remind you that we are little old ladies with pointy sticks. And we know how to use them!

Zen and the Art of Hand Knitting

I have come to the conclusion that I just cannot follow some one else's pattern anymore. Or, rather, that I will not follow some one else's pattern. It's not that I don't want to. There are so many great patterns out there! But I just can't seem to do it.

Case in point: my Almost Annetrelac Socks.

Oh, they look great, but the closest I came to following the pattern was to look at the picture. You see, this yarn (Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock) was given to me for my birthday, with the proviso that I make myself some socks. Yay! And after a fall and winter of making socks for others, it seemed like a thing to do in January. But I was tired of knitting basic socks, and, frankly, I thought that both the yarn and I deserved something a little spankier. So I started perusing patterns on Ravelry and Knitty.com. The Annetrelac Socks from Interweave Knits Holiday 2007 fit the bill. I wound the yarn into balls and pulled out my Lantern Moon rosewood dpns and away I went.

Now, I will admit that I did skim over the text of the pattern. I cast on the wrong number of stitches out of habit. So, instead of starting over and adjusting to the pattern, I made the right number of base triangles to suit the smaller number of stitches. Once I started working, I found myself stopping and thinking "Oh, crap! I should check the pattern!" Which I did, then discovered that I would have to tink out several squares of entrelac to get back to where the pattern said I should be. So I tucked the magazine away and knit on.

The socks are great--I'm wearing them as I type--and they look just like the Annetrelac Socks (as well as any number of other entrelac socks out there), but there was no actual "following" of patterns involved.

This is certainly not an indictment of the pattern--in fact, I read it over before I sat down to blog and found that, aside from the fact that I cast on and worked with my own number of stitches, it was pretty much what I had done anyway. So did I follow it, or not?

Well, I figured, socks are one thing. I mean, aside from stitch patterns, knitting a sock is knitting a sock (hush up you Kat Bordhi fans!). Perhaps a larger project would be different. And it just so happens that I was looking for inspiration for a shrug. So off we go to Ravelry's pattern search again. And, lo and behold, a perfect shrug pattern, from Knitty.com, presented itself. I printed it off, balled my yarn and cast on. And frogged out. And cast on. And frogged out. And cast on, and knit 4 inches, forgetting to decrease. And frogged out. And cast on and knit 6 inches before I realized that I really didn't like the way the lace pattern was working out in the handpainted yarn.

So I pulled out my Barbara Walker Treasuries, and Nicky Epstein's Knitting On the Edge, found a lace pattern I liked, cast on and away I went. There are 7 inches on the needles and it's looking fab. And I am happy with the knitting.

Okay, so maybe this was more a case of choosing a pattern that didn't suit the yarn. But it also reminded that I just don't like following patterns. Even as a novice knitter, I would alter patterns by substituting yarns, changing the ribbing, adding a stripe or a cable. As the songs says, I did it my way.

It hasn't helped that I have been reading a great deal about the nature of craft and its place in history lately. That sort of reading always seems to lead to a bout of navel gazing, making me ponder each thing I do in way too much detail. Some authors seem to trigger more pondering than others and the current crop are far too effective in that department!

Right now, the culprit is Soetsu Yanagi, a Japanese Zen Bhuddist art critic from the early 20th century. He was a great proponent of the preservation of traditional craft in Japan and Korea, with a soft spot for pottery, but his comments on craft, handwork,and art, should be inspiring to artisans in any field.

Yanagi writes about craft as "true art", springing from instinct, with none of the pretensions of fine art. Once the craftsman had mastered the form of the craft, anything is possible and instinct dictates the actual execution of the product. There is expression of the individual through the process, not through the brilliance of the intended message. And it is the improvisation of the individual maker that makes each piece a work of art, rather than the cleverness of a preconceived design.

So, as I read this, and I struggle with the words some other clever knitter has laid out to lead me through her/his design, I find my own Zen state of being. This is what I make, and this is how I make it. It is what it is.

And I'm okay with that.

Confessions of a Loomwad**

The course of true love never did run smooth.

William Shakespeare
A Midsummer Night's Dream

Let me begin today's tale with this statement: I am not a Weaver. Oh, I weave. And I'm reasonably proficient on a rigid heddle loom. But I do not Weave with a capital "W". I understand terms like "beaming on" and "Bronson lace" like I understand the term "nuclear fission"--I can use them all correctly in a sentence, but I have never actually executed any of the acts they describe.


Now, let us travel back to August of 2008. Gasoline cost $1.50 a litre, the Beijing Olympics were in their full glory, and Barack Obama was a gleam in the Democratic Party's eye. And I travelled to Gibson's Landing to teach at their Fibre Festival.


I had a wonderful time, and I have blogged about the fabulous festival, scenery and seafood before. But what I haven't revealed until now is that I developed a bit of a secret crush while I was out on the Coast.


I blame Jane Stafford for introducing us. It started as a casual conversation about weaving, but then, I had to meet "the loom". Oh, sure, she's just a little table loom, but she was so pretty. And who could resist the smooth action of those rollers on the pattern shafts. And the fact that she could fold down, even fully dressed, to fit that little spot in my studio between the chair and the fibre storage. And the price! Oh so tempting at an introductory cost of $750.



I had met JP.


I walked away smug in my belief that no one needed a shiny little table loom when they had a sturdy and faithful rigid heddle (aka RH) waiting at home. After all, who needs eight shafts to do plainweave?


But then I started thinking about warps set at 30 epi, or even 50. Fine, hanspun silks making subtle patterns. Linen napkins with a little lace insert. Portability. I dreamed of weaving with a boat shuttle instead of a stick. I felt guilty about these errant thoughts, but I couldn't stop thinking about JP.


Oh, I fought it. For months. Then, at the last minute, I placed my advance order. Jane, the one who was facilitating this sordid affair, assured me that the object of my desire would arrive before Christmas. Oh, how could I wait that long?!?


The days flew by in a frenzy of spinning and knitting. All the while, my faithful rigid heddle stood waiting to be warped for last-minute Christmas tea towels. But I dreamed of multiple shafts and Texsolv heddles and delayed my weaving projects. I needed to spin more cotton, anyway. Really.


As Christmas Day came closer, there were delays. But, just as I was about to abandon all hope, JP arrived the same day we were packing the car to go away for two weeks. I dropped all packing and organizing to release her from her crate. And I sat and stared. I knew I would have to wait a little longer to consummate our relationship, but I am patient. So I delivered her, still not fully assembled to my studio and left her there to get acquainted with the other equipment.


I came down with a cold on my trip, and it seemed like forever before the day came when I had the time and energy to assemble JP But it came. There were difficulties. It turns out that assembling the shafts on a loom is only slightly more complicated than building Ikea furniture. But I persevered. And there she was.


I could hardly wait to weave! But here is where the tale takes an ugly turn.


I do not have a proper warping board, but that's okay because I have a clever little set of warping pegs. Or, at least, I did. I spent the better part of the day tearing the studio, then the living room, then the basement, apart, looking for the cross pegs. Gone. Nowhere to be seen. Apparently swallowed by the same black hole that consumed my 10 mm dpns in early November.


But I had to do SOMETHING! With that lovely little loom sitting there, tempting me, I couldn't wait days, or even weeks to replace the pegs, or to get an actual warping board. I figured I was clever enough to get around this.


So I rigged up an inverted stool, which I weighted with a heavy file box, as my cross end, then attached the remaining lone warping peg to my rigid heddle and wound away. I was not pretty, but it worked.



The only problem was that my cross was at about the 24 inch level from the ground, which required a little bend from the waist each time I made it. After 160 wraps, this did cause a small ache in one's lower back, which will lead one to reconsider the brilliance of this system the next time one decides to make an impromptu warp.





However, a warp was run, 6 yards of cotton at 15 epi for a set of 3 tea towels. (Can you see the optimism in this plan?) Here it is before my first attempt at tying on the warp:





...and here it is after:





Now, let me make it clear that I do not blame JP for this. It was my clumsiness and inexperience that made our first attempt to weave a fiasco. There were tears shed. Where was the wondrous relationship I had dreamed of? I looked longingly toward RH for support. And I was reminded that things did not go smoothly for us at first, either. There are yards and yards of orange 8/2 cotton in the bottom of a bag that are just too tangled to do anything with, but that I still can't bring myself to throw away, to remind me of my first tentative foray into weaving. So, I dried my tears, and set out to wind another awkward warp.

Teagan The Wonder Schnoodle, who had borne witness to all of this madness, began to whimper as I set out to wind the second warp. Knowing that animals can sense impending disaster, I hesitated for a moment. But such was my obsession that I threw caution to the wind and warped on.

Aside from the fact that I had a cat flipping the end of my cross off the stool leg every time I turned my back to run the warp the other direction, this warp went a little faster and smoother. I began to consider the first one a "practice warp". ( Note to self: always buy twice the weaving yarn required so you can "practice" your warp. Or learn to warp?)

And off I set to beam on and thread my loom.

It took a few tries, but I got the warp tied onto the apron and the lease sticks in place. It took a little longer to untangle the warp and feed it through the raddle, but it got done. That was one whole afternoon.

The next afternoon was spent threading heddles --I used four shafts, but threaded for plainweave. Which was confusing enough, thank you. But I have only discovered ONE misthread (so far).

And weaving has begun. Not Weaving, but cloth is being made on a loom by my own two hands. Which is good enough for me. And JP seems content enough, too.


For those of you who may be concerned that my poor RH has been thrust out into the cold, don't be. She has been whispering to me about a tapestry project with all those novelty yarns that I've been spinning lately. And as I type this, Jane is cozied up under RH's stand.


I have, however, noticed that my Schacht wheel is looking a little forlorn with her empty bobbins over there. It's okay, Sweetie, I have lots of love to go around. Let's find that bamboo and
spend some quality time.


**Blame The Simpsons for this word. In one episode, the family goes to the museum to see an exhibit entitled " Looms, Labor and Liberation: A History of Women Weaving" and, before they can get into the museum, the banners change to read "Weapons--Sponsored by Kellogg's". When Lisa and Marge go "aww", the guy hanging the banners says "Sorry, loomwads, there's a new exhibit in town."


This same episode also contains the classic line: "WEAVING?? Homer, you're my father. You're supposed to protect me from things like this!"

Wool 101

I'm sure that, by now, many of you are aware that the UN has declared 2009 The International Year of Natural Fibres. The purpose of this declaration is to raise awareness of natural fibres, their place in a sustainable environment and the natural fibre industry around the world.

For those of us who play with string, natural fibres are keys to the kingdom. While man-made fibres like acrylic and polyester have their uses, those of us who work intimately with fibre know that nothing compares to the warmth of wool, the softness of cotton, or the luxury of cashmere. But I find that a surprising number of fiber crafters know relatively little about the fibres they work with, other than their own personal tastes, or the say-so of a friend. So, to that end, I introduce:

Get To Know Your Natural Fibres

For the next year, I will endeavor to post useful information and useless trivia that will broaden your understanding of the fibres we work with, and some of the more obtuse fibres, as well. This will be, by no means, a comprehensive study, nor will it be conclusive, but rather and overview from my experience and reading over 25 years of knitting, spinning and weaving.

So, without further ado: Chapter One: Wool 101

While many people refer to any yarn as "wool", wool is actually the hair of a sheep. Wool is probably the most commonly used fibre for spinners and knitters in North America, Great Britain, and Europe. This is because it is readily available, easy to spin and knit with. and well-suited to the climates of these areas.

But to say that something is "wool" is like saying something is "blue". There are over 250 recognized breeds of sheep around the world, each with different fleece characteristics. And not all sheep are created equal--while all sheep produce a fleecy coat, not all fleece is suitable for use in textiles, and those that are suitable fit a wide range of uses and techniques. So how do we know what it means when a label says "wool"?

Let's start with the basic structure of a wool fibre. Wool is a protein fibre, comprised of the same molecular structure as human hair. Like human hair, wool grows from a follicle on the skin, with the root end being thicker than the tip end, as there are more cells closer to the follicle.

The structure of an individual strand of wool fibre has three layers, as shown in this cross section:

To save you the eyestrain of trying to read the tiny print, the centre hollow core of the hair is called the medulla, and this is one of the reasons that wool has such good insulating properties. The next layer out is referred to as the cortex and is comprised of tiny, densely packed round cells. The thickness of the cortex will determine the fineness or coarseness of the wool. The outer layer is called the epidermis or cuticle and is made up of tiny scale-like cells that point upward toward the tip of the hair. These little scales are what makes wool feel itchy.

In this photo, you can see that some individual fibre have a medulla and others do not, and on the right, you can see the layers of scales that make up the cuticle. Different breeds of sheep produce different types of cuticles, which makes the fleeces feel itchier or rougher in some breeds.

You can see the differences in these three illustrations. Starting at the left, the drawing with the small, low-laying scales would be from a fine, crimpy wool. The centre drawing, where the scales are broad and flat and appear to spiral up the hair, would be from a lustre longwool. The drawing to the right would be a coarser wool with larger scales that curve outward from the surface of the hair.

All of these different scale structures give the specific fleeces of their breed very distinct characteristics, which I will discuss in another post. However, there are several characteristics that are common to all types of wool.

The best known characteristic of wool, of course, is it's insulating property. Wool will retain warmth while allowing air exchange, which makes wool ideal for warm clothing in northern climates, as well as for quilt battings, insulation for homes and warm floor coverings.

Any knitter can tell you, wool is very elastic. That is, it can be stretched, then return to its shape-up to 30% of its length in some cases! This means that wool garments will be cushy and crushable without creasing, as well as keeping their shape after washing and wearing.

Wool's elasticity will also make a garment very durable. The fact that the fibres are elastic keeps them from breaking under tension or bending. Broken fibres are the source of most wear and tear in garments, including worn spots, pilling and tears.

Wool is also hygroscopic--which means it will hold and conduct moisture. Wool can absorb up to 30% of it's weight in moisture before it feels wet, and moisture will be wicked away from your body if you perspire while wearing a wool garment.

Wool is flame-retardant. It will burn when exposed to directly to flame, but will stop burning once the flame has been removed. The insulating characteristic of wool also makes it useful for smothering a flame by cutting off the oxygen, but I wouldn't recommend trying it because nothing stinks like scorched wool!

Wool takes dyes well, and responds equally well to chemical and natural dyes, giving brilliant colors in most yarns. As well, wool comes in a wide variety of natural shades of brown and grey, giving an almost endless palette of earth-tones.

On the downside, wool is prone to shrinkage under certain conditions. Abrupt changes in wash- water temperature, agitation, and extreme heat will cause the scales on the surface of the fibres to contract and the fabric will become denser and smaller. Fortunately, we know this will happen and can prevent it by gently washing our wool in lukewarm water and hanging it to dry. Or we can take advantage of this characteristic to make felt--which is loose wool compressed into a fabric by abrupt changes in wash-water temperature and agitation!

Wool also has a bad reputation for being scratchy, or even causing allergies. You cannot be allergic to wool, at least, not in the technical, medical sense. Wool is comprised of the same molecular compound as human hair and fingernails-keratine. You can be allergic to other factors in a fleece, such as the lanoline and suint (sheep sweat), or contaminants in the wool, such as straw, dust, or even some of the chemicals used to clean fleeces, but the itch that comes from clean wool is a result of the scales irritating the skin. And in people with sensitive skin, this can lead to hives and rashes, just like an allergy. (I know, I have a daughter will sensitive skin--she breaks into a rash at any coarse fabric, or a new soap. She can still wear my handspun Merino yarns, though! Apparently, she was simply born for a life of luxury.)

So, now you know a little more about wool. And I'm itching to get my hands on some, so I think it's time to stop typing and start spinning...