spinning

Earlier this month I took a drop spindle class at the Weaver's Guild.  I've had a drop spindle for quite some time, but it terrifies me, and my mother and I attempted to figure it out from YouTube videos and a beautiful book from Interweave called Respect the Spindle, but we got awkward and just couldn't swing it.  Or rather, perhaps there was too much swing.

Either way, I took a class and though I certainly got that thick and thin that art yarn is famous for, it wasn't on purpose and therefore was messy, but I felt quite proud and my little hank.

I also learned I love carding, so I bought my own used hand carders and tried blending, and I really felt in love with the peacefulness of the drum carder.  I love that flick-flick whir sound it makes.

The instructor brought some examples of yarn she'd spun on a spindle:

And above, a headband she crocheted out of a wool blended with her dog's fur.  I can imagine my own golden retriever's making a seriously lovely blend too.

I love the spinning room, partly because there are two levels of wheels all lined up for use, and then there's this wall of historic instruments, which I could gaze at for a good long while.  It's a nice reminder of the connection we are making to history, to our possible ancestors, and to purposeful work that is long but has such a treasured reward.