Lots of spinning recently.
Lots of fun.
These were from random spinning.
This was from some more controlled spinning. Some planning even, and some charcoal/ chocolate alpaca for a background. Whoa, they are soft. I'll have to make more. Or at least a mate for this one.
I normally don't agree to do commissioned work after a craft fair. I've got enough to do with my own gift-making and I'm pooped out from the weeks of production.
But a woman was admiring some of the hand-spun yarn in a pair of mitts Z was wearing. For someone who can appreciate the colors and the handspun yarn, I was happy to work up a pair of custom mitts. Just one.
It felt good to do a little carding and spinning. I was rather quick and sloppy about it, but the colors are wonderful and the yarn is bouncy. I hope I have enough left for a pair for myself.
My design group tackled the concept of color yesterday. There could easily be an entire study group on color theory.
We started with making color wheels.
We were supposed to bring our own materials in whatever fiber we chose to work with, so I brought some wool roving and my hand cards. My plan was to blend. Lacking a true yellow and deep blue, my work was somewhat slanted in the pink and orange direction.
A line of little rolags is a very satisfying thing. The color wheel was abandoned and I spun them.
Andean plying is a way of plying one single strand of yarn against itself.
The first time I did this years ago, I cut off my circulation and my fingers turned purple.
Finished. It's more of the circus yarn I can't seem to stop producing.
It's what I wait for every year. Fibers and Critters and people wearing their shawls and socks and pins!
Rooms full of very tempting things...
We checked out the competition entries and the art. Wonderful.
Road trip! If half an hour drive counts as a road trip. Cramming all our hams into a single vehicle does make the trip seem long.
Some knit group gals and I went to Frederick, MD, to see the Indie Dyer sale. I stocked up on Wild Hare yarn and fiber. I've never spun one of these funky batts before, so I will give it a try. It has sparkles!
And we ate well. I neglected to photograph the fancy chocoates in the pretty box with the ribbon bow on top. Too late now!
I'm getting the hang of boucle. It's still not industrial quality (who hand-spins for that?) but it should do the trick. Whatever that is... I'm not sure how such yarns are meant to be knit.
I tried one in Wensleydale fiber (long, straight fibers with some weight) and the blue in Merino (short kinky fibers, very fine). Fiber differences make for different textures!
Part 1 of my texture project: teaching myself to spin textured yarns. As The Intentional Spinner says, novelty yarns are born of happy accidents: mistakes repeated on purpose for effect.
I've certainly achieved the repetition and effect.
Perhaps it's because I was fighting with my wheel. And my tensionless lazy kate that needs a replacement. One cannot be expected to ply properly while restraining snarly yarns with feet, knees and elbows.
What my wheel is good for: plying.
What it's not good for: spinning very small amounts of yarn as samples, especially when two or three plying steps are required. Drive band, tension cord, flyer, bobbin--off, off, off, off. Then all back on again. Ugh. Next time, spindles first, wheel after!
I know that in the past I have spun thick-and thin corkscrew yarn, and I have spun boucle, but my hands have no memory of this. Next batch will be better.
Love the colors though.
Once upon a time this yarn...
...became this scarf.
But then it got all undone...
...and after a steam bath, it came out looking like this again.
With some more spinning this weekend, a blend of the remaining fibers was created; offspring of sorts.
Spider woman spins the autumn night.
Now I have two completely constrasting yarns that perhaps can be friends... or not.
Today was one of the funnest fiber arts guild days ever. We learned about silk worms. A box of them sat on the table, with audible munching sounds coming from within. Things you might not know about silk worms:
The protein in the silk is the same as one in the human body. Silk is used in surgical procedures because the body won't reject it. Besides being good for sewing people up, the silk glands can be used to rebuild arteries and tendons.
Silk glands are routinely inserted into goats, where they grow silk without having to feed and care for worms. When the goat is milked, the silk is extracted. The milk and silk are separated centrifugally.
Currently experiments are being performed in space to grow silk without the need for feeding the worms, because silk is six times stronger than steel. You could make a bullet-proof vest out of it, and it would be lighter and more flexible than a standard one.
Domestic silk worms don't live to be moths. They are gassed, because then they don't damage the silk by chewing through it. However, a silk worm need not be inside the cocoon to transform.
In some countries, it is customary to place the silk worm on a sheet of cardboard, in any shape, and the worm will expend all its silk on the "coaster" before laying on top to complete its transformation. The flat sheet of silk is like a fabric, and can be dyed and sewn.
About the transformation: the silk worm, like a caterpillar, must form a hard husk and then liquefy its body. It breaks itself down until it is nothing more than a few cells in a goo similar to an egg white. Then it starts growing into a new creature entirely--a complete act of reincarnation.
Silk moths do not have mouths. They can't eat or drink. They only live a few days, to mate and lay eggs. A domestic Bombyx silk moth lays about 500 eggs, enough critters to eat an entire mulberry tree. This is rather a burden on the gentle soul that never wanted to kill a single worm.
If you wish to purchase "Peace Cocoons," which are cocoons the moths have been allowed to escape from, then bear in mind that the countries that sell these often have an ulterior motive: they eat the baby worms. In Korea, most children have eaten silk worms. A woman in our guild spoke up and said she'd eaten them as a child, and they tasted like chicken.
I should have known--spinners are mellow. Last night's meeting turned out to be much less about order than about being together and spinning.
What a nice complement to the more goal-oriented gatherings! This will be a good thing.
Get out the books and tools -- it's Organizational Meeting night. A newly-forming study group within my fiber arts guild is to be focused on spinning.
Here is what I can expect: I will be the least well dressed. Someone will be wearing a blazer and someone else will be wearing an artistic hat or pin.
We will devise a charter, bylaws, rules for critiquing the work of others, a list of goals to achieve, a bibiliography, detailed plans for who hosts when, what they teach, and what food or drink is served. There will be penalities for failing to do the work or for failing to show up. Boundaries for admission will be determined, and the group will be closed to Outsiders once we've reached capacity.
That's how it is. Coming from the relaxed west coast fiber guild, where jolly ladies reclined at long tables laughing about the size of their ram's baggage and feasting on bready treats, this is all something to absorb.
I find that under all the stiffness are some very smart, stimulating folks with nerdy senses of humor. The last study group I attended involved discussions about whether lines can possiblly intersect on a hypberbolic plane and whether a line can be considered a vector if you forget to put an arrow on the end of it. Just normal conversation, you know.
Oh, my, how very thick. Do I need a bigger needle? Did I spin too firm? Very thick. This hat band will warm my ears.
Random polychromatic spinning frees the soul but hurts the eyes just a bit. It's time to focus on a smaller color range and not all the colors of the rainbow at once. Time for easier color transitions.
At the Maryland Sheep and Wool festival, I bought merino wool in bulk.
It was like buying jelly beans; balls of different colors of wool lined the shelf in a vendor booth. I tore off snatches of this and that until I had six ounces in my bag, all so I could recreate the yarn I saw and loved last month.
I spun it on three spindles and plied them all together on my spinning wheel. Yes, you can get six ounces of yarn onto a 3.5 ounce bobbin, if you are careful.
Here's some eye candy.
Drying on the chair outside, not quite in the sun.
No digital color tweaking here. This is how it is.
Another year! Last year it was pouring down rain. This year, high 80s and humid. Still I made it four hours.
Z came along to see what all the fuss was about. I think it was a few more hours of yarn and wool than she might have liked, but her curiosity was satisfied. Thanks to the new little used ipod, she didn't get carsick on the country roads to and from. Music helps that, who knows why.
Saturday I went to a meet-up of some local spinners who call themselves
The Enablers. It was a small group, smaller than usual I was told.
My spinning wheel isn't portable, so I brought my spindles. Turns out I really miss them. I spun like mad on my spindles, then at home I plied the yarn on my wheel. The wheel is faster for plying. This might be a good method for me. First portable, easy to stop and start spindles, then swift efficient wheel.
Hre's my over-full bobbin, from my insistance on plying two full bobbins onto one. The yarn is overflowing to the point of disrupting the mechanism.
So OK, that means it's done.
First it is washed, looking skinny when wet.
Then it dries and fluffs. Bouncy bouncy!
Knitted up, it is very close to the insanity I was imagining. It's only 2-ply, not the 3-ply I'd been admiring earlier. I am short a bobbin for making that.
We saw the Mikado last night. Our favorite line (besides, "I've got a little list of those who won't be missed,"): "Come to joy!"
You had to be there.
Earlier I was at knit group and fell in love with this. I did not spin this yarn, but someone did. It was being worked up into a luxurious thick sweater. I was drooling.
So I wish to make some like it. I had just recently ordered a batch of cupcakes from the Wool Peddler, and I mixed them into some bits I already had. I made this mess on the kitchen table. And I've been learning that to spin an even thick yarn is much more difficult than spinning an even thin one. But faster and very fun.
The fun part is the wrecklessnes. A bit of this, a bit of that, wherever, whatever. Fill up a couple bobbins... this is joy!
WHY do I so often forget it? I wish I had brought my camera with me to photograph all the colors and crazy women. N and I went to the Homespun Yarn Party this weekend and had ourselves a time.
A very large room at the historic old Savage Mill was packed with folks peddling their dyed yarn, dyed roving, spindles, kits, charity work tables, door prizes (N won a nice fat skein of yarn) and lovely lovely colors.
I was reasonably well behaved. Two skeins for gifts, some wool to play with, some lovely sock yarn.
New roving on the bobbin.
Soon to be sock yarn.
Saturday I implored my family to come with me to Frederick for the Indie Dyer's event. Thirteen local vendors were selling their wares.
We just had a nice time wandering around town. We checked out the shops, ate at the deli, admired the ice sculptures. The sun was out and the air was crisp. We could almost smell Spring.
A few of my patterns have been accepted, but only just now is one "out there." This is the yarn ramen I produced in editing and reknitting to write an accurate knitting pattern. Here's hoping it really is! You can find it here, at Knitty.com: http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEwinter09/KSPATTdiversion.php
When I first spun on a drop spindle, I made mittens from the yarn. I still use them.
This hat is made from the first yarn I spun on my own spinning wheel. It's got "character" because I have some learning to do. It's the kind of learning that the body has to do by repetition, like typing.
I like it. The wool was carded for a lofty textured yarn, and the result is soft and fluffy.
We're done, and we did well. I'm starting to add the leftovers to our etsy site (click "TheClutteredTable" link at left. For now, we've got some children's fingerless mitts and some of Z's cards. Soon I'll put up some hats and more individual cards by Z.
With newly-earned crafty cash and a tip from a fellow fiber guilder, I bought an inexpensive, well-cared-for used spinning wheel.
It's my starter wheel, an Ashford Traditional. So I can get good enough to know what I really want. Just one treadle, simple to operate, lovely to look at.
A fellow spindler asked me to bring my spindle to knit group for a curious fellow knitter. I brought an extra spindle, some wool, and a book on spindling.
Folks who are interested in spinning are good self-teachers. All you have to do is put the stuff in their hands, tell them to take it slow and easy, and pretty soon they get that concentration look.
I love that look. Squished up brow and lips, a determination to succeed, and a glazed mesmerized stare as the fiber slowly twists into yarn.
Spinning has a way of soothing the folks who attempt it--all that hypnotic twisting, and soft fluffy fiber.
This is what I bought at Sheep and Wool. I stayed within my budget.
It's two pounds of animal hair, dyed mossy green, stuffed into a bag.
Actually it's Romney and mohair, and it's wonderful, and even a little greasy. That sounds gross to a nonspinner, but to those who have to handle the stuff for a long time and don't like getting their hands dried out, it's heavenly. The wrinkles will melt away, I tell you.
I tried to spin a little on the spindle. I'm so accustomed to combed top that the gnarly roving was a puzzle to me. I need practice. But it's going to be warm and wooly for sure. It's going to be a sweater for E. Someday.
Remember my little secret about a pattern I submitted to be published online this fall? The word is they'll take it! When it's out I'll put up the link. Wheee!
I am not allowed to post a picture of what I'm doing. In order to submit my knitting pattern for publication, the pattern cannot have appeared online, even in a picture. But here's a photo hint.
It will be late late summertime before I know whether or not it's accepted.
This is joy. Yarn spun on a spindle without pain or injury! I'm taking it slowly, but I think my fingers and elbows are ready to play again.
This is batch #2 of the yarn from the spindle, which I think I called melon yarn. Melons, carnivals, whatever. It's spun finer than the first batch, for sock yarn. I'll spin as I go until the socks are done.
It went around to Z and then to E, and now it's my turn to get the snot bug. I have Great Falls pictures, but having just edited about 50 photos for the school yearbook, I don't feel like looking at them right now. So I'm listening to Irish fiddle music, drinking a lot of tea, and spindling.
This is the little shop where the Wooly Girls sell their wares. My neighbor down the street is one of them. We met in the living room of the large farm house, and not this tiny one.
There are sheep about somewhere. The handspun and handknit things inside the house were delicious, and probably made from the wool of the sheep nearby.
Wooly Girls are an interesting bunch. They didn't break their circle of chairs for the two strangers who entered the room (my neighbor hadn't met any of these folks; she knew the shop owner). After stepping over them several times to get to the dining room in order to place our contributions on the table (we like sugar, don't we?), it finally came to me to say, "Do you think we can widen the circle here?" One chair moved, but we were not both admitted. Eventually enough others came that we formed a second circle.
Someone was knitting with a needle over an inch in diameter, some crochet hooks looped about, and there were a couple spinning wheels and vicious-looking wool combs. Everyone was doing something I wanted to look at, but they weren't exactly interested in explaining. They were interested in discussing ways their children wreck their cars (one woman's teenager had been through five, but they were all purchased from the company fleet, so it was OK). One of the car crashers was a young bride-to-be, and the Wooly Girls had questions and advice about insurance.
Later on, the catching-up through, some of the Wooly Girls ventured into the Other Side of the room to meet and greet.
This proved to be more interesting than I might have liked. The signs were there when one of them proclaimed the value of Laundry Meditation. "Oh, you mean folding clothes?" my neighbor asked. No. She described sitting in front of the washing machine with no other occupation than to watch the changing cycles.
"I just take in the now. I pay attention to what the machine is doing at every moment."
"Oh!" I had a sudden realization. "Like Zippy the Pinhead!" She didn't get it.
That was OK. I like eccentricity, and she was a friendly sort. But then her face got red and I knew something bad was about to happen. She began a rant against the Religion of Global Warming and the air in the room changed; it all got weird. An effort was made to correct or understand her but it only made it worse. What happens when a nice person comes unhinged for a moment? What happens when nerdy fixated women can't seem to stop the thread of dissection, the increasing nitpicking of tiny facts and details? At some point she seemed to know it was happening, but there was no way to mend it.
I had a second realization: this is what happens to isolated crafters. The closed circle, the fascination with car crashes and young brides, the data collection and conspiracy theories. This must never happen to me, but it's entertaining enough to make me want to come again.
Just as we were leaving, some folks familiar to my neighbor came in. We didn't get to spend time with them -- I think they might have been normal.
So we left and fished Z out of a forest that she was playing in with her friends, even though she had a fever of 100.7 at that point. Skipping church tomorrow. Just going to rest up and relax.
This is my first intentionally lumpy yarn. It looked so much prettier as a singles...plied it bacame far too airy.
Colors are great though; here's how it knits up.
I got out my wool combs again and tried again to make use of them. I think I need a teacher (or a drum carder).
So much goes to waste when combing. A ball of unusable fiber remains on the combs. The fiber I pull through the diz (that's a curved gizmo with a hole in it, for all you Scrabble players) comes out in an airy wisp that is difficult to handle. Still, it does seem to do a good job of blending long fibers and detangling mohair locks. I only pricked myself once. Four of these nests are mohair locks and the pink one is wool and nylon glitz.
This is the freshly spun yarn as it descends into the bowl of warm water. Right now it is tight. But then comes the fluffening.
Here is the same yarn, washed and dried. Bouncy bouncy!
Got out the spindle again, and some wool I bought over a year ago on Etsy. The dyer did well. No running, no neps or noils. Easy as pie. I'm a little out of shape, but catching up quickly.
The experiment of the day was overplying. Makes bouncy, airy yarn. This is not sock yarn... better for hats and mittens.
I was invited Saturday morning to a meeting of the Potomac Craftsmen Guild. Not that there were very many men present, and I'm pretty sure I was the youngest by a minimum of ten years. Definitely I was outsmarted; weavers are a bunch of engineers in their goddess years.
But fun. There was a silent auction, a live auction, a table of yarn and fabric being sold by the pound, cheap books, and the most amazing buffet. It appears that craftspeople here can cook.
This is part of my stash. $5. Wow. I did not buy the $10 rigid heddle loom, or the $50 drum carder that was in fabulous working condition, or the $35 gorgeous old walnut-stained saxony wheel that needed "some work." I resisted. But I did get the dyed mohair locks in great condition (50 cents). Wow.
Well I'll be. I thought I'd have to get a wheel to create this funky stuff. Yes, it's a little bit acrobatic with the tensioning (yay, spindlekate that makes this work!) and my first try is a bit rough, but with some practice this is going to be fun fun fun.
The colors are goofy because I was too excited to wait for daylight. It's wensleydale fiber; mohair would be ideal for loopyness.
I got out the drop spindle today, and practiced on some wool that I'm not entirely crazy about. After over a year of very little spinning at all, I feel a surge coming on. Thank goodness I've got a fiber stash.
Someone in my knitting group is having a baby, so I knit this yesterday from some of my handspun yarn.
This was spun and knit from Optim fiber, which is merino wool that has been chemically stretched to make it extra soft and also washable. The downside is that it behaves much like the fleece vests and jackets we wear--once you overstretch it, there's no going back. So not good for a heavy sweater, but perfect for a baby hat.
Last night I got sleep. The previous night E and I stayed up late watcing the election results. It's exciting that Z was old enough to watch and understand it all (although explaining the electoral college is a difficult task). She saw parts of the debates, read the kids' section in the Washington Post, and watched enough of the election results to get the idea before we sent her to bed. We had family discussions. She went to the polls with me and was young enough to be allowed to see the screen and watch me vote. She'll remember this election.
It's been good walking weather. The temperature is perfect and the trees are gorgeous.
When I see fall leaves, I think, "I want some socks in these colors." All I see is roving for spinning, and the itch to spin has been tickling me for several months now. Yesterday I spun a cotton ball and knitted it into a square swatch, 2 x 2 inches.
My secret wool stash is brimming with colors... But I must wait... must finish projects started, must finish contest entries and bazaar stock...
I tried a couple methods of knitting little sheep from the cotton that Z & J cleaned over the weekend. It's kind of funny to knit sheep from cotton, but that's what they wanted. One sheep is sheep-like, the other sort of a mutant (they can fight over who gets the mutant sheep).
That's about all I can endure of knitting teeny tiny things. Just think of all those little finger puppets knit by Nepalese women and children. I'm in awe...or sympathy.
Here's what became of the pile of cotton that Z and her friend picked through on the way home from the funny farm. Next comes the knitting.
Where are we? (Or where were we, Sunday?)
We're at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. Alpacas, yarn spun with rubber duckies in it...
Coiled yarn, kitties knitted by an eight-year-old girl...
M from my knitting group, in period costume to demonstrate the technique of naalbinding, and an inspiring wavy lace pattern on a shawl...
My friend L (of the malamutes) was the gracious driver to the festival, not far from Baltimore. Hooray for L for knowing the back roads, avoiding crazy traffic and finding available porta-potties.
Sunday is not the festival's busiest day, so it turned out to be very pleasant. Sunny, warm, and full of color. So many colors and yarns, fibers and tools, that I was overloaded with happiness and temptation. I ended up purchasing wool combs (they look like something you could slay an enemy with, brutally) and being taught to use them by demonstrators such as M, here. I was grateful for the free lessons and then guilty for the purchase.
Later in the afternoon we watched the sheepdogs. Sheepdogs are fascinating critters. They love to work. These sheep were so used to being used in the demonstrations that they had gotten accustomed to the routine. I think they could have done all the tricks without the dogs, if they only knew the commands. They even penned themselves, which made the audience laugh.
"That'll do," said the sheep farmer, just like in the movie Babe.
If I had a way of removing the coarse guard hairs, this would be soft and fluffy. However, since they are stuck in there, the hairyness reminds one of a sweater covered in dog hair. It doesn't smell. But when I steamed it to set the twist, that wet dog smell emerged.
At this point I have to admit to the cognitive dissonance I've been experiencing throughout this project: Dogs are lovely, but I wash my hands after I pet them, and I think dog hair is gross. Despite my attempts to be open minded, reminding myself that if it were musk ox I would not be repulsed, the fact is the smell is grossing me out and I have to stop.
It was worth a try though. Now I can say I've spun dog hair... but I probably won't.
The book lies. The book I borrowed, about spinning and knitting dog hair, says you can scour the smell out just like you can with wool. I have washed this fur in 10 hot water and soap baths, and rinsed it 10 times. Then I simmered it in soapy water on the stove and rinsed. Still smells like dog. A clean dog, for sure, but that's the animal it smells like.
When I think about it, dry wool is odorless but wet wool smells like wool. It stinks up the kitchen when I dye it. It smells a little woolly when it gets wet on a foggy day. But I think of wool as wool, for sweaters, and not as sheep, because I'm not often around sheep.
Right now our house smells like dog.
Here is how it looks after wringing it out, and then spreading it out to dry. Doesn't appear to felt much, which is good.
This sock contest takes me to strange places. L, from our knit group, runs a malamute rescue program. One day as I was petting her dog, I noticed handfuls of fluff coming off in my hands. L said, "Yeah, he's blowing his coat. He does it twice a year." The fluff had a crimp to it. I said, "This is wool!"
So you know what had to be done. There's a spinning category in the sock contest... What would they think of socks made from spun dog fur? Is that too gross a concept or too good? Would they stink? Sheep do, but washed wool doesn't. So maybe it would work.
There's only one way to find out. Today we had a dog-plucking date. Dakota was a very good sport. Rather handsome, too. Ten minutes of brushing, seven ounces of fiber. That's nearly two socks' worth.
Next comes the washing, and combing out the long guard hairs. That part I am not sure how to do.
Last year about this time I was selling knitting kits at holiday craft fairs. At one fair I shared a table with a friend (R) who was knitting and selling felted purses. I was spinning on my drop spindle, and across from us were the Two Old Batts, spinning on the drop spindle and selling yarn and spinning kits, and we had a good old time even though we didn't sell a lot. R bought one of the Old Batt's spinning kits and one of my knitting kits and later I gave her the yarn I was spinning.
So how happy I am that she sent me this picture: gloves she knit from the yarn I spun using the pattern I wrote. Besides being such a kindness to have shared that with me, it is gratifying that something I made was used and enjoyed. Yay!
