A spinner's life

When I dreamed of getting a spinning wheel I alternated from thinking I was crazy to want something that would help me make yarn to the thought of bliss when I could make just the most perfect yarn that only I would have.  Sure I could buy any yarn from my local yarn shop or from big box stores but it wouldn't be that special yarn.  I yearned for a wheel. I bought a hand spindle and started to learn to spin that way.  A slow but soothing process.  Although I never could get the hang out of letting it go for long, I continually had to trap it between my knees and then work the twist up.  I couldn't explain my longing for a wheel to many folks.  I waited a full year from when I first started thinking about it to when I decided I was going to get one.  I bought books and subscribed to Spin Off magazine, all to try and learn before I actually ever sat down at a wheel. 

My family understood, my sister and I have been crafters from the ages of 10 on.  You should see my sister's house.  It is filled with magnificent quilts she has made.  Her work is stunningly gorgeous and last year she bought herself a machine that helps her quilt her colorfull quilt tops into truly works of art.  She understands the longing of that one piece of equipment that will further your desire to MAKE something by hand.  My mom, though more puzzled, doesn't question wanting things like quilting machines or spinning wheels.  She has seen us both labor over projects and appreciates the time and effort they take. 

So last spring I found a way to buy my first wheel.  I've loved it since.  In the last few months I've churned through a pile of roving and am beginning to create yarn that looks like YARN!  So much to learn but that is part of the fun I think.  I"m hoping to take a class in November from the Weaver's Guild here in Minneapolis so I can learn exactly how much I don't know!  But in the mean time, this is what I do.

I'm going to make Emily a hat and mittens out of this hot pink roving.

So I continue to spin, to the point where when I come downstairs from "working" up stairs, my mom tells me to brush off the doghair from my pants...ummm that isn't dog hair, it is bits of fluff and roving.  Darn, she figured out I wasn't cleaning the upstairs like she thought, instead I had plunked down at my wheel to just spin for a bit...so that bit turned into an hour and a spindle full of singles later....but such is the life of a spinner.  Next....