Rough Fell

On the hoof.

In the shed.

In the bath.

Got fiber?

And back in its natural habitat.



This breed is not necessarily a handspinner's best friend. The rougher outer fibers (which I spun up) create something that feels like packing twine.

But there is something incredibly cool about turning fiber from the sheep you see around you every day into yarn you can actually knit with.
And it should make a perfect rug.

(Admission: the sheep in the first picture is not literally the same sheep from which I got my fiber. But it came from within a mile of this sheep.)

Color in Spinning

Creative chaos is the name of the game around here.
This is what happens when you love to buy fiber but have very little time to spin.

Color in spinning is a fascinating topic. I've read a book or two, but learning by doing seems to be the best way to go.

For instance, I would not have predicted that this yarn, which seems pretty uniform in color



would turn into this strongly striped scarf.





Nor would I have thought that this roving (an anonymous merino-tencel or perhaps even merino-silk blend I got at Rhinebeck)



would blend with another fiber that looked all graphite-colored to become this scarf.



This is made of 3 different yarns - one two-ply graphite (Nuit Noire from Zen String), one with one ply of each fiber, and one two-ply with the Rhinebeck roving. Extra credit to anyone who can tell which part of the scarf is which.

Spin Cycle

One amusing thing about being a beginning spinner is that you have no idea what you are doing.

I have been sitting since Rhinebeck over my 4 ounces of Blue-Faced Leicester roving, spinning away and wondering why I wasn't getting through it faster.
After I filled two bobbins I began plying it. It still seemed pretty irregular, and I thought, Well, I'll have some coarse handspun to make into a shawl for my mother.

Then, when I started spinning on my spindle and it did seem to go faster - I spun up the whole 4 oz of the Spunky Fiber Club's November installment in a few days - I just assumed I was getting better.
It wasn't until I had finished all of the Spunky Club roving (Falklands wool, 212 yards total)



and was back at my wheel finishing the BFL that it dawned on me that I had actually spun laceweight.



You'd think I might have noticed before then, but no, I thought it was going to turn out pretty chunky.
262 yards, 21 wpi, and I still have quite a bit of the 4 oz hank (from Cloverleaf Farm, colorway "Jewels") to go. I hope I can hit 400 yards.

Actually, I just hope I can keep spinning this fine, now that I've gotten all self-conscious about it.

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.)