Corn Dogs

You know you have entered a new stage of fiber addiction when you start using implements that make your spinning wheel feel high-tech.

I was forced to leave my wheel for a few days with two bobbins of gorgeous BFL singles on it, only half-plied. This was such a wrench that thinking about plying kept me awake a couple of nights.

Meanwhile, this month's package from the Spunky Eclectic fiber club arrived.




Falklands wool, in the color "Pie for Everyone."

And I still haven't touched last month's installment. Because I am still spinning the BFL I started after Rhinebeck. The BFL I thought I would be done with in a week. (Yes, there has been limited fiber time this month.)

In my frustration, I turned to a $15 implement I had bought on a whim for just such an eventuality, but never learned to use.


I learned to use it.
I divided the fiber into four equal sections, and divided two of those sections lengthwise, and spun them on the spindle to create reasonably equal amounts of fiber.
What I got were two corn dogs.


Two unequal corn dogs. (Here's what was left over from the larger one after plying.)


I guess my skills at dividing roving equally are even more low-tech than my technique for spinning them.
Note the nod to Chinese take-out in the creative use of chopsticks.

I then turned to my trusty Lazy Kate. Size 10, if you were wondering.

Once I had plied the yarn, I went for the niddy noddy.


And presto - a very small, and rather overtwisted, skein of yarn. (About 93 yards.)


The yarn is having a bath now which should calm that twist down nicely. You could hear it fizz with relief as it entered the water.
2 oz. down, 2 to go.

I get back to the wheel on Sunday. It's going to feel like a Cadillac after this.

Chance of rain

Or so they said in yesterday's weather forecast.



What a perfect day for sitting and knitting and spinning. Unfortunately I have to work.

I got nothing for the blog this week. I'm still slogging away on the divine Chanel Crossing. Here are some sneak preview pictures (blurry, as befits sneak preview pictures. This is the blog equivalent of those first-run movies you can buy on DVD from some guy on the street who taped it in the theater on his pocket video camera. You want them in focus, you have to wait for the official premiere).




My husband looked at me last night as I inched my way up the second sleeve and said, "Is that the sweater you wanted to finish for Rhinebeck?"

I think I detected a faint note of derision in his voice, but perhaps it was merely incredulity. I hope it was incredulity that I would wear something so glamourous to Rhinebeck, rather than a hint of doubt that I would finish this by Christmas.

Handspun Harlot Hat

Three years ago I never would have dreamed that you could make this


into this


by way of this


thanks to this.

When I saw Stephanie's post about a spontaneous hat I knew that was what my handspun wanted to be.
It was my first actual cable project too, so I can cross that one off my list.

And I think I even have enough yarn left for a scarf.

Gloves & Monsters

Here's a belated Halloween post showcasing my mismatched handspun handwarmers.


Same number of stitches, different levels of spinning skill.
Result: one handwarmer fits a human hand. One looks like it was made for the Incredible Hulk.

The arty flower shot is a tribute both to our fall crocuses (a highly recommended flower, sending up bright splotches of white and purple in the carpet of fallen leaves) and to this Halloween-season classic.

Rhinebeck

I did not finish my sweater in time. (In fact, I haven't even finished the first sleeve. I have, however, knit the sleeve cap twice, and am working on attempt number 3.)

I did not take any pictures.

I did not eat fried artichokes. (My friend and I found it notable that the line for artichokes was as long as the line at the fleece shed.)

I did not buy any yarn.
I did not even buy wool carders, though now I wish I had.

I did not buy the gorgeous shining electric green bamboo roving that I had in my hand at the start of the day, when I had forbidden myself to buy anything til I had cased the joint. When I went back to get it, every scrap of their bamboo was gone. (Still kicking myself over that one.)

But I did buy other things.


Clockwise from top: 4 oz of Blue-Faced Leicester roving; approx. 4 ounces of a tussah silk/merino blend as creamy and rich as ice cream; 5 ounces of a wool blend whose provenance I forget; and one lovely, shining, Romney fleece.


A fiber orgy.

Getting my first fleece was a rite of passage. After waiting in line for an hour, hundreds of ravenous fiber hounds fell on this room full of fleeces like Bridezillas at a wedding-gown sale. I roamed rather haplessly up and down the aisles, pushing past overstuffed bags of fleece and the warm bodies of people thrusting their hands into them (one woman was testing locks by spinning them up on a drop spindle), feeling like a fraud and not sure what I was supposed to be looking for. (I wanted Blue-Faced Leicester, but I think most of that was in the separate BFL area.) At one point I saw that Amy King (aka Spunky Eclectic/Boogie Knits) was right next to me, going toward a fleece with such an air of fierce determination that I didn't have the nerve to say anything to her. She definitely seemed to know what she wanted (evidently she got six fleeces).
But after all that I did find a fleece that spoke to me, a Romney with a wonderful shiny luster and great crimp. And after some inner debate, and the requisite testing of a lock for crimp and strength, I headed toward the check-out with that and a cottony Corriedale. I made myself put the Corriedale back - one whole fleece is plenty for a beginner to deal with. Let alone a beginner who right now has more work than she can handle.
I adore the Romney.

And I got right to work spinning the BFL.


(This is an old picture - my first bobbin is now full.)