Woolybuns

And It Was Good

Another skein finished.  Recent deep stash diving brought so many wonderful fibers to the surface, including more no longer available Indigo Moon lovelies: one of her signature colorful batts, and hiding behind it, black merino, alpaca, and silk roving.  I cherish those for their promise of sweet sweet spin but resist the allure because, once spun, it's done.  No more.  Sure, I can knit or crochet that sweetness into something else to treasure and revel in the wearing.  But I bought those luscious fibers for the spin and it is so delicious to anticipate.  It is a conundrum.  

I pulled out a Spunky Eclectic handpainted biffle instead.  Biffle aka blue faced leicester aka BFL is 
also a sweet fiber, a soft longwool which takes to the spinning wheel quite nicely.  The fiber I've been spinning long draw is a soft bouncy fiber which I love but it and I do not make good teammates for learning long draw.  My last effort with that is to me a big fail.  That skein is under spun to the point of not   really spun in so many spots and over spun in others, lumpy in places and too thin in others.  As I plied it, I realized I probably should have plied it with a thread for an art yarn.  As yarn, it would hold up better that way.  But it is what it is and I will likely dye it full of funky color and felt it as fun strands on some silly hats.  So that Spunky braid so full of gentle color and ease just grabbed hold of me and threw me back to the spinning wheel.  Fractal, the braid declared, so fractal I did.  For those of you who do not fiber, yes, fibers have a mind of their own and they are none too shy about declaring their intention once they figure it out.  I split the braid in half, and split the half more for the short color run bobbin.  Ahhhhh, the spin.   Splitting the roving multiple times loosens everything up so the fibers just about spin themselves and it is a delight, almost a chocolate for the fingers.  Bobbin one done.  

Fiber prep for bobbin two was faster, just a couple quick but gentle snaps all along the length to loosen the fibers and it's good to go.  One episode of Northern Exposure and that pastel handpaint just wrapped itself so nicely on the bobbin while I just treadled along for the peaceful easy ride.  Finally,   the ply, uncomplicated and complete in another episode of the quirky fun fiction of Cicely, Alaska.  And I am refreshed.

Doesn't Everybody Take Their Lovely Hat For A Walk?

A few weeks ago, I followed links to another felt artist's website then blog, and let my eyes tickle the ole neurons.     One photo in particular, "in her Easter Bonnet," made me grin a little bit extra.  I contacted Jo and shared my enthusiasm for the lovely hat she created.  Her response was to gift it to me.  Whoa!  That is quite a sweet gift.  And surprise: the hat is reversible.  The side I did not see on her blog         is even more fun.  The hat coordinates with both my winter jacket and the celtic knot mittens I made for myself.  Every once in a while, Karma is kind.  

The day the hat arrived in the mail, I had dinner plans with family, so of course I wore my wonderful new hat.  While few of my family members would wear the felt creations I love so much, those that night at least had the good sense to grin.  Today with the chill and a light dusting of the white stuff and a need for new batteries for my track pad, I took my hat for a walk to a nearby store.   Confirmation yet again that I live in a conservative town.  Across the board, the looks all screamed out "Watch out!  Wacky woman in a wild hat wandering the street!"  My neighbors of course simply get busy with whatever task conveniently allows them to Not. Make. Eye. Contact.

This all amuses me.  

Big Hopper Floyd

Remember Big Hopper?  He was the second of two singletons born nearly two years ago, and his birth drastically improved the chance of survival for his foster brother Li'l Bit.  Both of them turned out just fine and moved on to new homes.  Big Hopper became Floyd and lucky me!  I get to visit with Floyd occasionally.  Sunday was one of those days.  Floyd came to visit so his "mom" could get a bit of a grooming lesson.  She does a fine job with Floyd but time and weather led to Floyd having a tutu clip - the prime off his back fiber was trimmed but his "skirt" stayed for what was supposed to be only a day or two.  As we all know, life happens and the tutu stayed for long enough that new coat growth started tangling at the line between cut and long.  Bunnies can hide that process quite well and before you know it, you can end up with a tightly matted bunny.  

Everytime I see Floyd, I fall for the foofy fella all over again.  He is a big strapping boy with a nicely solid frame and lots of fiber, but more importantly, he is a happy curious bunny.  Much fun to interact with, and easy to handle during haircuts.  And Floyd's mom is nice, too.  She brought a bunch of carrots with greens attached for my bunnies, who very much enjoyed the greens already.  They'll get the carrots today.   Bunnies.  They are distinct individuals and they still make me smile.

 

I Should Name This One Snail

Hand knit socks.  Those who know just sighed with happy.  Those who don't likely shook their heads and wondered why, because you can buy socks you know, pretty cheap at that big box store.  But the fit... the warmth... unique character...  

It's more than that, though.  It's the creation.  Doesn't matter the medium.  Creating anything, be it  hand kneaded bread, a big quilt knotted by hand, clay taking shape in your own fingers, the act of making something with your own hands - from planning the project to selecting the materials to the finished object - just satisifies the soul.  It takes you out of this harsh "real" world we live in with all it's noise and clutter and messy interactions, and lets you relax, slip into yourself, almost a transcendent state where bills pay themselves, kids get along and help each other do the dishes, and selfish insecure grumpy old white guys aren't getting all up in your business.  There you are,  focused intently on what's happening in your hands and nicely tapped into your gamma brain waves, and time just slips away, taking the ugly with it.  I think it dumps all that ugly into those big box stores, or perhaps into the skulls of those selfish insecure grumpy old white guys and that's why they are selfish insecure and grumpy.

I started this sock back in August.  My knitting finger injury is likely permanent but so is my love of knitting socks.  A few rounds here and there and the injury doesn't grab it's knife, doesn't plunge it into that knuckle.  So I've adjusted my knitting reality to slow, accepted that knitting will no longer take me into my gamma brain wave state.  This sock is pretty much the Dicey pattern, but I am not using dice, just randomly tossing in cables when I feel like it.  The yarn is merino dyed by me a couple years ago.  If ever a pair of socks earned the name Snail, this is it.  But the few minutes here and there that I spend with yarn, needles and sock still warms my world, however briefly.  When they are done and warming my feet, I'll know.  And that will make me smile.  

Fiberlicious

 Hands needed a break from long draw before I broke them for further spinning.  I switched to short forward draw and spun up a bobbin full of white worsted weight fine wool, wound it into a center pull ball, and plied it on itself.  Pretty much back to basics.   Hands and brain both melted into ahhhhhh...

I have dye pot plans for this bit of cakey goodness.  

I still plan to blend more of this wool with angora for further exploration of long draw, most likely from the fold.  But I needed a more positive long draw  experience first.  Back to stash.  When I went diving for felting fibers last month, I stumbled on a  roving I had long forgotten, a treasure from probably the last time I went to New Hampshire Sheep and Wool, or possibly Spa.  There is no identifying information in the bag but I know exactly who I bought it from, even if I don't remember the specific fiber event: Pogo at Friends Folly Farm.  This roving is her Friendz Blendz, mohair and wool, and a true delight to behold, to fondle, to spin.  And after all the white I've been spinning, color called to me.  I settled into my chair near the pellet stove, fire beating back the latest round of cold and snow, Northern Exposure season one dvd playing, and fibers slipped so nicely supported long draw from bag through fingers onto bobbin.  This free flow of fiber allowed my fingers to acclimate, to familiarize themselves with the movements while brain captured and hopefully stored the experience for future use.  I finished the single this morning, wound it into a center pull ball and plied it up.  There is about 170 yards of yummy yarn.  Not perfect but enough consistency that I am happy with it.  And when I look at the yarn, it speaks quite clearly: "Beth's Bobble Hat."  I might dye some wool a solid blue to match the blue in this yarn and knit the bobble edging and crown in wool, and the ribbing sections in the Friendz Blendz.  

One thing to love about winter is all this fibery fun.  

It Ain't Exactly Quck Draw Here

Adventures in long draw continue in between the weather whiplash (- 9* F to +56*F?  Mother Nature is clearly confused, poor dear).  This time, I blended wool and angora on hand cards and made 5 rolags, total weight about half an ounce.   Samples, baby - much more do-able than looking at an entire big bag of wooly wonderfulness with intent to add more fiber then spin it all with a technique that still has my hands sparring with whisper.  Yeah, this death grip on the fiber spins my hands into knots rather than fiber into light n lofty yarn.  When that bitch in my head starts pointing out how nicely these fibers slip through my fingers with short forward draw, I retreat to the lamaze training that got me through birthin' babies.  Shut out the bitch and breathe slowly, deeply, focus on the fiber, relax, relax and another length of fiber magically slips into yarn.  And then the mental fist pump Yeah! and oops, death grip's huge lumpy tangled mess jumps in again.   Sigh.  New mantra while massaging my hand so the locked up joints in my finger will release: finish the rolags, just finish these few rolags and see what you've got.  Back to breathing, just breathe, let the fibers flow.  And so it went, like learning to drive  stick shift, I lurched and jerked and stopped and sometimes slipped into gear where forward happened and eventually got through it.   What did I get?  About 20 yards of improvement, an imperfect but more consistent yarn that I do like to pet.  And perhaps a slight smile of satisfaction because yes, there is improvement between the lumpy  bumpy.

Bunnies Tucked In

 Bibbi looks pretty comfy, dontcha think?

 

Challenge, Goal, Effort

One of the many marvelous things about fibering is the option to create with fiber in alternative ways.  My wrist needed a rest from felting but my fingers craved fiber.  This scrumptious bit of polwarth roving in colorway Lobster I bought it from Spunky Eclectic has been screaming for attention ever since I bought it.  My post Christmas gift to myself: Lobster on the Rose.  The spin is delightful.  Soft, free flowing, and just so dang loaded with luscious color to counteract all the white and grey of winter drear.  I split the length into two equal 2 ounce strips, split one into at least 6 strips and spun that 2 ounces on one bobbin.  I spun across the top of the second 2 ounce strip on a second bobbin, then plied them together for a a nice tonal variegated fractal spun skein, about 180 yards.  Mickey modeled the skein for me and still has no idea what that's all about.  

With my bobbins empty, it is time to take on the Spunky Club Woolen spinning challenge on Ravelry.   The challenge is individual but the focus is woolen spinning: whatever your ability to spin woolen is, set a goal to take it to the next level.  For me, that's easy.   Practice practice practice and hope to add this technique to my skill set.  I have a request for a worsted weight wool and angora blend skein of yarn so my goal is to spin a woolen skein good enough to fill this request.   After I got Lobster polwarth off the bobbin this morning, I pulled out a bag of wool I had processed at Still River Mill, measured out 10 grams   of the wool and 5 grams of angora, then carded them together.  I ended up with a batt just under one ounce, full of soft and springy character.  I split the batt into strips and set up Rose.  I had a bit of trouble getting started woolen so basically gave up and started the single with short forward draw, then switched to supported long draw.  Moments of brilliance alternated with lots of ... well... not so much brilliance, and maybe some growling that really didn't come from the dogs.  But long draw is a techinque I am not yet comfortable with, and the fact I get moments where it works is enough to keep me going.  For now, I have a small lumpy bumpy woolen skein that is squishably soft which may eventually adorn some felting project but until then, will be my benchmark as I continue towards my challenge goal.