People are always asking me how long it takes me to spin something. The past few days, I decided to actually spin with an eye on the clock to give an accurate answer to this burning question.
clicking any photo will get you a larger version, should you want one
4 grams of silk top + 2 hours spinning singles (on a spindle) + 20 min winding into plying ball + 10 min detangling + 1 hour plying (via spindle) =
46.5 yards of 2-ply silk sewing thread
I am not a fast spinner. I’m not a slow spinner. And yes, spinning silk fine enough for thread does entail a bit more effort that spinning my average, spin-it-in-my-sleep sock weight yarn. But hopefully it gives the curious amongst you some idea of just exactly how crazypants I am.
I’m at the end-stage in several projects, and it’s to the point where I feel guilty trying to finish one while the other nearly-done ones sit there on my worktable and whimper. The request0rs of each project are asking after their progress, not in a bad way, just in a how’s-it-going kind of way, and of course that just makes me feel a wee bit more guilty when I can’t get All The Things Done Right Now.
That’s my current whine. (I know, you were curious about that, too, and you were just way too polite to inquire.)
However, I find the end stages of projects really, truly fascinating, and I don’t like to rush through them. Seaming a sweater, sewing on trim, washing and skeining a bobbin of handspun yarn; all of these are magic times, when hours and hours of work suddenly start becoming Something, right before my eyes. Random oddly shaped bits of knitting become something pretty I can wear; thousands of treadle-pushes with fluff whishing through my fingers become wonderful yarn I can imagine into more pretty knitting.
The possible slowly starts becoming The Real. I like the process of that becoming, sort of in the same way I enjoy watching the baby doves in the nest on my porch hatch and go from wee fluffy cheepies to young curious birds flapping their wings on the edge of the nest, ready for that first uncertain flight.
I also like raising kittens from little wiggly blind earless critters, but then I think you probably knew that without me saying so.
It’s here…sort of
In cases your sinuses have not yet announced the obvious to you, it is spring.
Even the weeds are being shameless in their sprawling glory.
Watching the tiny birds peck at the dirt outside my window, I wondered what the world looked like through their eyes. I put my camera at sparrow-height on the ground:
Kind of makes you think. And dream wingéd dreams…
I took those photos ten days ago. As I type this, it is snowing. Welcome to Canada, says the amazing AnnieBee.
I promised blue-purple sparkly yarn pictures.
Merino fibre with real silver bits in it. Hand-dyed by Jennifer at Holiday Yarns. She has more (not in that exact colourway, but close), plus she has a new fibre club where you can get sparkly stuff, gradient stuff, and cool stuff. (Tell her Sandi sent you, she’ll get a kick out of that.)
Why do I feel as though I am posting salacious photos right about now?
It’s like some sort of yarn-fetishist’s centerfold…
1. Picnic pants. No, I am not going to spoil the fun, you’re just going to have to go look to see why I think the picnic pants deserved a place in the Chispas.
2. I would like to know why there is not some sort of international grant to ensure that there is one of these in every home. (Watch the video. It’s really almost too much for the human heart to bear.) (OH, and yes, it’s for reals. I checked, thinking it was just too good to be true. TRUE.)
3. These are breathtaking. If there was one nearby, I might never leave.
4. You know what they say about people resembling their pets?
5. Ah, Texas and traditional southern values. This Mama understands the value of a good moisturizer AND a good PR campaign.
6. And finally, Buddy thinks it is high time for a belly rub.
P.S.: Oh, great.
Now she tells me. Not at the beginning of the post, but at the end. Naturally.
The Giveaway Llama would like you to know that she has a couple of goodies for you…for next time.
Hint: One sparkles. One doesn’t.
And with that, I click Publish.