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...

Who? Me?

I don't have a problem. I really don't. It's just that the rest of the world doesn't understand me, that's all.

It all started out innocently enough. A sweater here or there. The occassional sock. Harmless, social knitting. All in fun, really.

Then the kids came, and layettes were needed. And as the kids grew, new sweaters and mittens and socks had to be knit. After all, kids grow so fast. And since I was knitting for my kids anyway, why not knit for others as well? I mean, I was getting paid for it, so I HAD to do it, right?

When the local yarn shop closed, there were a few rough days. Sure, I started eying the cats and wondering how many brushings it would take to get a sweater...but I didn't actually DO anything.

It was Steve who brought the spinning wheel home and said, "Hey, Honey, try THIS." I see now that that may have been the beginning of the end. As yarn was spun, it had to be knit, and as the yarn got knit up, more had to be spun. It was a vicious circle from which there was no escape.

In order to spin faster and better, I travelled to learn the craft. The more I learned, the more I needed to know. I became a Master Spinner. I learned to weave and dye and felt. But the knitting was always there, waiting. A warm comfort at the end of the day. Something to do in the car or the airport. A quick escape from the pressures of family, work, or school. Something to take the edge off.

Only, recently, I have begun to wonder if I may have developed a dependency.

I mean, keeping a mitten in the bathroom cabinet to knit while I was in the bathtub was really just part of the Christmas knitting subterfuge. I couldn't knit that mitten out in public where Julia might see it. That would ruin the surprise of the gift.

Carrying a sock in my purse to work on in doctor's offices, or while waiting in the car for kids, has always seemed so safe and practical. But a couple of weeks ago, after checking my purse to ensure that I had my keys, my cell phone and my knitting, I set out on a series of errands. And at stop number one, I discovered that I had left my wallet at home. BUT I HAD MY KNITTING! So I knit a couple of rounds to calm down, then I went home to retrieve my wallet. Everything was fine.

And the fact that I have barely left the house since the beginning of the New Year has nothing to do with the fact that I have been spinning cotton for 4 hours every afternoon, or the entrelac sock that I just have to knit one more row of squares on. It's because it's been really, really cold and the road conditions are really bad.

But I've noticed that people are beginning to stare.

We recently travelled to Banff for a family wedding at the Banff Springs Hotel. Steve's family doesn't gather together very often, with so many family members scattered so far apart, so it was a wonderful reunion of his siblings and all of their offspring. The weather was bitterly cold, but the wedding was beautiful and the company was warm and convivial.

With the chill in the air, so many tourists were bundled up in their woolly best. Apparently, though, people don't appreciate you following them down Banff Avenue, staring at their heads, trying to figure out the stitch pattern on their toques.

And there was nothing wrong with stashing a sock in Julia's purse on the way to the wedding ceremony. I didn't knit on it until we were having lunch in the lounge afterwards. Well, I mean, the service was really slow. C'mon! Why were people looking at me like that?

Sure, we went back to our hotel room for a rest before the reception and I finished a button band on my llama cardigan while Steve and Brendan snoozed, but I did go to the reception without my knitting. We were late for cocktails, but that was because it took so long to get a cab, not because I wanted to sew the buttons on before we left.

The woman who stood behind me in the Starbucks on the way home, who looked at my knitting and said (somewhat patronizingly, in my opinion), "Oh, aren't you industrious!" gave me pause, though. Industrious? Is that what people think this is?

The other woman, who was admiring my handspun, handknit scarf at the grocery store last week and asked "Where do you find the time? Don't you have things to do?" also made me stop and think--once I calmed down and got over the urge to gouge her eyes out with my dpns. What do you mean "things to do"? Isn't knitting doing a thing?

So I started to wonder if maybe I did have a problem. Not being able to go out the door without something fuzzy in my purse, but forgetting my wallet. Knitting to calm my nerves in social situations. Stashing knitting in odd spots in order to get in a few rows while no one is looking. Just a few rows to help me relax before bedtime. That sounded like an addiction to me. I started considering a twelve-step program.

Then I remembered that the British Royal Navy actually encouraged sailors to knit to keep them from other, less desirable pursuits. That Ghandi taught the people of India that spinning for two hours every day would lead them to independence. That Victorian ladies believed that knitting was a far more suitable occupation for women of good breeding than housework.

And I remembered that this is my job! People pay me to knit them sweaters and shawls, and to teach them how to spin and knit for themselves. If someone brings their laptop home from the office to finish a report, they are admired for their work ethic. If someone carries their Blackberry in their coat pocket and checks it in the grocery store line-up, they are dedicated to their work. I am simply doing the same thing with my work.

So, I have come to the conclusion that I do not have a problem.

And now that I have that off my chest, I'm going to go work a couple of rows of ribbing to settle my nerves.

Behind the Wheel

January 7 is an auspicious day on many calendars. It is the birthdate of such luminaries as Nicolas Cage and David Caruso. It is the date upon which Harry S. Truman announced the creation of the hydrogen bomb, which would end World War II and plunge the world into a full-blown Cold War. It is the date upon which the HMS Beagle weighed anchor in the Galapagos, where Charles Darwin would develop the theory of evolution.


The Japanese celebrate Nanakusa on January 7th. This is also Christmas Day for those who follow the Julian Calendar, known in Canada as Ukrainian Christmas. (I will be having my peroghies and holubsti when my cold clears up!) This year, Muslims will observe Ashura, a day of remembrance, on January 7th.



And for those of us who spin, January 7th is St. Distaff Day. This is the day that European women traditionally returned to the work of spinning after the Christmas festivities. The men did not return to their work until Plough Monday, which could be as many as 6 days away, which meant that they had a lot of time on their hands to harass the women at their work. This was generally referred to as merriment. I personally think that this was just further proof that men have never grasped the concept that the only thing standing between civilization and them standing naked in a field bashing things withs sticks was a woman and her spindle.



Of course, in the shiny new year of 2009, we have Wal-Mart and The Gap to keep us well attired while we bash things with sticks. So why do we still have spinners? Someone asked me that question lately, and my immediate response was "Because spinning is the basis of all civilization!"

There is much debate regarding how long humans have been twisting plant and animal fibres to make string. Most historians and archaeologists will agree to 10 000 years, but many speculate that spinning goes back further. Neolithic goddess figures, dating back 20 000 years BCE have been found that appear to be wearing skirts of twisted string. These goddess figures have little other detail, but the twists of the spun string on their skirts is clearly represented. Why would cave-dwelling mammoth eaters take the time to carve twists into the string if they had not observed them daily and regarded them as significant?

We know from Egyptian tomb paintings that women spun and wove the fine linens that the mummies were wrapped in. Researchers have found mummy wrappings as fine as 500 threads per inch, just like a set of Ralph Lauren sheets. But handspun.



Greeks and Romans treasured their sheer linens, and many of their goddesses are associated with spinning. Demeter,the goddess of the harvest, was also associated with the hearth and spinning. Athena, the goddess of wisdom, was a weaver. The Moirae, who determined the fates of men, were three mystical beings who spun, measured and cut the thread of destiny. The classical mythology of the Greco-Roman period is rife with tales of spinning and weaving, from Jason's pursuit of the Golden Fleece, through Penelope's weaving and unweaving of her wedding veil while she waited faithfully for Odysseus to return to her. And all the string was handspun.


Vikings sailed to the New World with waterproof sails of handspun greasy wool. The ships that Columbus brought to that same New World five-hundred years later likely had sails of hemp or linen, but still handspun. Nations rose to power, and collapsed, according to their textile industries. The pursuit of silk and pepper led to the Crusades; the Spanish Empire grew to rule most of the New World and Europe on the strength of silk stocking and Merino wool. All spun into string by women who were not paid for their labor.


And handspun string was not only reserved for great feats and fine artifacts. Every stitch of clothing worn by prince and pauper in every culture and nation in the world was made from string spun almost exclusively by women. Unpaid women, who squeezed the spinning in between tending the animals and the home garden, raising babies, cooking, and cleaning. Women who spun because they knew that otherwise their families would be naked in a field, bashing things with sticks.


Over the millenia, the simple spindle evolved into the spinning great wheel. Then the great wheel was streamlined to fit into small cottages and a treadle was added to speed the process up. Then , in 1764, James Hargreave invented the Spinning Jenny, which allowed a single operator to spin 8 spindles of string instead of just one. Ten years later, Samuel Crompton attached the Spinning Jenny to a water-driven turbine and the mechanization of spinning began. Suddenly, the home spinner was obsolete. Mass production of muslin made fabric cheap and accessible to all. Factories wove the cheap cotton cloth, chemical dyes were invented to dye cloth more economically, and clothing was mass-produced. The Industrial Revolution came along, and the world has never been the same. Twenty thousand years of handspun string and its crucial role in holding society together disappeared practically overnight.


Spinning had historically never been truly treated with respect. It was often referred to as a feminine pursuit or as a means to occupy idle women to keep them out of mischief. In the same way that other women's work, such as child-rearing and nursing the ill and dying were historically marginalized, so was spinning. In German and the Netherlands, men took a shot at controlling the cottage weaving industry, forming Guilds that granted license to qualified men and making it illegal for women to weave, but they never touched spinning. That was women's work, and thus , beneath them.


Women have continued to spin in developing nations since the Industrial Revolution. Not everyone has access to manufactured goods, or the resources to purchase them. Babies need blankets, husbands need warm hats, young brides need finery, whether there is a Wal-Mart nearby or not. Indigenous spinning traditions thrived in India, Tibet and Peru well into the 1970's and are now being eagerly revived.


Mohandas K. Ghandi promoted spinning as a step toward autonomy from Colonial rule for the eople of India. The wheel in the centre of India's flag is a charkha--the traditional spinning wheel used by Indian women. To many Indian people, that wheel is the symbol of independence and freedom. And with the growing craft revival in North America and Europe, it is becoming an increasingly relevant symbol of individuality.


Modern spinners tie the world to the very roots of civilization. As we begin to discover the environmental, fiscal and social costs of mass-production and our credit-card, fast-food economy, more and more people are turning to the simpler joys of the hand-made. And with the current climate of global economic concern, I suspect that even more will start looking for the independence and freedom that the DIY lifestyle offers. Which is where it all began. With a couple of women sitting in a cave, twisting nettle fibres together while the naked boys were out bashing things with sticks.


It is time for spinners to stand up and claim our heritage. For women and men to come together to appreciate this timeless and gentle craft that connects us to the roots of what makes us human. The unseen craft that raised us from caves to condos, discovered new worlds, preserved ancient cultures, and kept us warm and clothed while we were doing all that stuff.

Spinning is just one way we express our individuality. It is a connection to the past, it is a road to the future. It is women's work, raised to art. Men are spinning. "High art" is being created. The world is a warmer place when there are spinners. We are in control of our destinies. We are behind the wheel, so to speak.


So, on St. Distaff Day, as I sit back down at my wheel after a couple of wonderful weeks of revelry with family and friends, I am going to take a moment to thank all the women who have worked to make the world a warmer, safer place for the ones they loved, and to all the men who have appreciated them and the work that they did.

Oh Lord It's Hard to Be Humble...

Well, actually, it's pretty easy--just when I get cocky, I lean over the stove to reach the oil and burn my chin on a hot frying pan. Honestly. I did that. Then I dropped a 5 kg bag of sugar, which exploded. Then I dropped an open canister of coffee grounds. So humility is my middle name today.

However, this does come on the heels of a great week last week. The Christmas knitting is progressing nicely and is (so far) ahead of schedule. I made a really fabulous yarn that I cannot share just yet, and it dyed beautifully!

And this came in the mail:

The brochure for the next ANWG Conference in Spokane. My name is in there, along with names like James Koehler, Sarah Swett, Judie Overbeek, Bobbie Irwin, Kris Abshire, and Anne Field. All artists and teachers whose level of work I aspire to. And I am in their company, at least on paper! Little old me!

I've been working hard lately to become a "real" fibre artist and teacher. After years of squeezing spinning in between driving kids, making meals, volunteering at schools and other motherly chores, I woke up last week to find that I am actually doing what I wanted to do for all those years. I am no longer a Mom who knits on the side, I am a Master Spinner, handknitter and weaver with commission and teaching work stacking up for 2009 and beyond. I know exactly how Pinocchio felt when he realized he was a real boy! And the weirdest part is that it happened while I wasn't looking. I just opened my mailbox, and there I was, in the ANWG brochure.

So call it hubris if you will, but I had to share my wee moment of triumph that all my hard work has paid off. I'm all grown up and doing what I have wished I was doing for the past 20 years.

Or you could take this as a warning: Be careful what you wish for--you just might get it.

I did!

No Present Like the Time

So much going on, so little blogging!

First of all, I just had to share this. Standing in Starbucks waiting for an extra-hot soy latte, I glanced over at the shelves with their merchandise and spotted this:

Yup, a cable-knit coffee mug!! Needless to say I bought the two on the shelf. The perfect mug for the coffee-addict knitter! (Now I just need a couple more for company...hint, hint!)

The Christmas decorations in the Starbucks stores are also fibrey this year--balls of glittery green yarn arranged with red glass balls. And there is a poster with a knitted background. Knitting meets lattes--Utopia at last!

So, we're home from the big city and settling in for the next few weeks. The weather has been unseasonably warm, but there is a good layer of snow on the ground to spur on the Christmas knitting. As usual, I am freaking out at the number of planned projects, but I have kept it relatively simple this year. No fair-isle sweaters or elaborate shawls (not that anyone on my Christmas list is much of a shawl-wearer), so there will be a minimal amount of midnight knitting, I hope.

I often ponder the whole handcrafted thing at this time of year. With all the commercials telling me that what they really want is cell phones and big-screen TVs, I am madly knitting gifts for my family and friends. Why?

This began as a necessity back in the days when I had small children and a limited budget. A pair of handmade mitts or a scarf were reasonably affordable, and tucked in with some home made cookies, kind of unique and personal. Then it became tradition, and people would start hinting at Thanksgiving about the hat or sweater they might like to get for Christmas. They still do, so I know the gifts are appreciated.

Over the years, there have been several mad Christmas Eve collar-knitting sessions, and a few boxes of yarn presented as "some assembly required" gifts. But all in all, I love knitting the bulk of my Christmas gifts. And no matter what the commercials try and tell me about the "perfect gift", my hands are busy making something to keep someone warm and cozy. No matter how many tales of knitters who slave for months to have their gift greeted with "oh, is that all", I know that my gifts are useful and (usually) appreciated. It's kind of my job to spin and knit, so I sometimes feel like I am stealing office supplies and giving them as gifts, but then I realize that I could be selling these things, but that I have given them to someone who is special to me.

Case in point, the Skelly Socks. A few months ago, I ran a little competition amongst some friends to name our local knitting community, with a pair of handknit socks for the prize. The knitters didn't pick any of the suggestions my friends gave, but the entertainment value of this group of hilarious women competing for a humble pair of socks was priceless. I decided to surprise them each with a pair of socks on their birthdays (though after the first birthday, the surprise factor was somewhat ....gone). I had culled color preferences and shoe sizes, so I bought various sock yarns and spun a few others. And I always have time to knit a sock or two. Karen got handpainted purple and black socks, Ruth got hot pink superwash merino, and Lisa...well, Lisa got Skelly Socks.

The body of the sock is mostly basic black Kroy sock yarn, but the skellies are handspun Corriedale top from Louet held together with Aurelia Wool's Retro Topaz Corriedale blended top while drafting, then Navajo plied to make a sturdy sock yarn. The color combo was inspired by Halloween, rich and autumnal.

And I am happy to say that I made waaay too much yarn, and have enough to knit another pair of socks! For me! Mwahahaha!

As I knit and spin things for others, like the socks, or the current Christmas list, I think about the person I am knitting/spinning/weaving for. I could be making a piece on commission, or selling these things on Etsy, but I'm making them for the people who make my life better. I can afford to go out and buy stuff now, but I still knit for friends and family. I am giving the gift of my time and skill, wrapped in warm thoughts and good wishes. It makes me feel like my time was well spent. Which is more than I can say about my money sometimes.

Now don't get me wrong, I will also be buying gifts. And I do not judge others who buy gifts for me--I know that time and thought have gone into their choices too. But I have also been granted a gift--the ability to create--and I want to share that with others. That's why I teach, and that's why I give handcrafted gifts.

Plus, it gives me an excuse to stay home on cold, wintery days and knit. And now that Starbucks has embraced the glory of knitting, can the rest of the world be far behind?

Whoa! What happened there? Last time I looked, it was the beginning of October and I was preparing for a trip to Vancouver. Then I woke up this morning and it's mid-November. How the hell did that happen?

Well, I suppose that if I think about it, I can account for some of it....

I finished up the selection process for the workshops for Fibre Week 2009 before we left for holidays. Let me tell you, this is a tough job! There were so many fabulous proposals and so few spaces, it gave me a sleepless night or two. I think the line-up is very interesting--watch the Fibre Week website for information as it becomes available.

Then it was off to Vancouver for 10 days. Long story short: Fabulous trip! We did the touristy things, like visit the Vancouver Aquarium and Stanley Park, as well as just relaxing with Lexi. We attended her graduation from Blanche MacDonald and celebrated with a fabulous seafood and sparkling wine dinner. The weather driving through the mountains was brilliant, and we had a very scenic drive. And, of course, there was much car knitting done...

...like a scarf for Brendan. Two skeins of Arequipa held together throughout, and following The Yarn Harlot's one-row scarf pattern. Mindless enough for in the car, but pretty cool results!

And a pair of flip-top mittens for my Mom. The yarn for these is a handspun semi-woolen Merino/Suri alpaca/silk worsted weight that I spun from combing waste left after blending the same fibres on the hackles. The Merino and Suri were white tops, and the silk was a handpainted sliver, so there was a subtle pastel stripe throughout the yarn....

...and the mitts are super soft and smooth. Mmmmmm....

The pattern is one that I have memorized and knit so many times that I can't even remember the source--possibly an old Paton's booklet from the '80's. Pretty much my "standard" mitten.

I also worked on a top-down sweater in Mirasol Miski (baby llama), but it is currently on hold because I changed my mind part way through and needed to order some more yarn to finish it. I finally tracked down the right color this week, so I should get that one back on the needles next week and blog the whole sordid tale when it's done.

There was also a really swell pair of skeleton socks that didn't get photographed before they were given as a birthday gift. Lisa has promised me pics, so more on those later, too.

We got home from those adventures the week before Halloween, so we just rolled straight into party preparations. We always do a big haunt and party, but time and knee constraints made us trim things a bit this time around. We still managed to have our haunted house set up by Wednesday, and the weather was spectacular! We had far fewer kids than we have ever had, but it was a nice evening, with time to chat with neighbors and a relaxed move into our party. Much lower key than in a lot of past years, but just right for a road-weary household still trying to get our feet under us.

You will note that the creepy lady on the right is wearing a handspun and handknit shawl, made from last year's Halloween-inspired yarn.

This is what it looks like in the daylight. A very simple triangle shawl...

with a spooky skull-beaded fringe to add a Halloweeny touch! Very cozy and it made the evening of lurking outside quite enjoyable, not to mention stylish!

The next evening was the Keyano College Foundation's Gala, and Steve surprised my with tickets. Aside from the fact that this led to a wardrobe crisis and an emergency shopping trip, it was a fantastic evening! Plenty of good food, free champagne, hob-nobbing, all topped by a live performance by Randy Bachman. It's pretty fun to sip champagne and eat duck breast while grooving to vintage Guess Who in an evening gown! Definitely not something I do every weekend!

Once I came back down to earth, and got the house cleaned up from the Halloween bash, I had spinning to finish up....

...including a little side trip into insanity! This is a merino multi-colored top single, spun soft and slubby and then coiled around a cotton core. Not my usual smooth, skinny yarn at all, but much fun to make. The only problem is, I have no idea what to do with it now. I guess I'll just look at it and admire how cool it is for now!

So now I'm making "practical" yarns--sock yarn on the Schacht, lace-weight bison on the Kromski and a worsted Merino/cashmere blend on the Ashford. The Christmas knitting has begun, and will soon probably consume the better part of my days. The weather has finally turned wintery up here, with plenty of snow and ice, so I have had a wonderful excuse to lay low and spin and knit all day, then make a pot of soup for supper.

There is a lot of spinning in my future, as potential teaching jobs are beginning to pile up for next summer. Samples to be made, and ideas that have been floating through my brain to be actualized. There's never enough time! If some one can tell me where it all goes, I'd really appreciate it--I need to go and get a bit of the past month back!

Pink and Pinker

It's been a busier week than usual around the old homestead. We're preparing to head off on yet another journey--this one out to Vancouver to help the lovely and talented Miss Lexi celebrate the completion of her make-up course. As part of the preparations, though, I have taken a couple of evenings to finish up the travel knitting from the last set of trips.



A pink shrug for Miss Julia. Angora and merino....mmmm. I had a hard time grabbing it to photograph because Julia was sitting here holding the sleeve as I cast of the collar ribbing and had it on as she scooted out the door. Not even an evening to block it! And then she was surprised that the angora shed! Oh, well, I know it was much appreciated.

Then there were the socks that I was knitting for Ruth. They were supposed to be ready for her birthday on August 30, but she seemed happy enough to receive them six weeks later! More pink!
Yep, pink and pinker! Not really a color that resides comfortably in my personal pallette, but fun and cheery enough to work with.

There's been a wee bit of spinning going on, too. A soft and squishy worsted-weight merino/suri alpaca/silk blend, a bit of merino painted top, and some bison are all resting nicely in the various assorted bobbins, just awaiting the time for plying to happen.

Car knitting must be organized and packed. Socks, mittens, and a sweater, I hope. The new projects are all Autumn and Halloween inspired colours--golds and oranges and black. Very soothing. The one sweater that I did get started is looking like I may have it done by the time I arrive in Vancouver. That may mean that I will have to visit a LYS or two in the lower mainland. Oh, the hardship!

Then there is the Christmas knitting and weaving--totally without a clue as to what to do this year. I think there is a little part of me that has just about had it with the overkill of that holiday--it's rather annoying to be hearing Christmas carols in stores already!

There has been a lot of other exciting stuff going on, with getting offers to teach next summer as well as getting the line-up for Fibre Week ready to send off to the College. But all of that stuff is still in the works and it's not quite time to let those cats out of their bags. Looks like there will be a lot more travel in my future!

And, hey, thanks to those who have nominated me for Prime Minister, but I will respectfully decline the honor. You'd have to be brain dead to want that job!

Talk to you from the road!