yarnporn.com

Okay this is an extremely good photo of me, and I really like it. Please do not look at any of the unflattering photos of me that may appear on my blog, as they were/are probably all post-children era and not taken by a professional photographer that lives by making ordinary people look really pretty.

(Thank God that shirt is back in style, it would suck if I had a great photo wearing totally dated fashion, although you can probably guess from the hat that it’s circa mid-90’s. Still don’t I look awesome? I really look quite trim don’t I? And my complexion is so nice!)

I started spinning as a little kid, my mom took spinning classes from Laurie Webb (I hope I spelled her name right) in Canby Oregon, and our family had a little spinners’ flock of various colored sheep. My spinning “experience” consisted of sneaking out of the house with my mom’s spindle (a horrible bottomwhorl that weighed way too much to be useful) and grabbed wool bits from where the sheep rubbed it off (usually around the gate staples and fencing.)

I spun about 10 yards, then crocheted it (I couldn’t knit then) and that was the end of my spinning career for about a decade. Since then I’ve become somewhat of a stereotypical obsessed knitter, and after learning the joys of sock knitting I discovered the depressing economics of purchasing yarn.

I found lots of affordable yarns on eBay, but I’m a bit monomanic about art supplies, and yarn was an art supply. I didn’t want to have to change brands and patterns and gauges unless that’s what I wanted to do.

I gave spinning another try. First I tried to borrow my mom’s long neglected spinning supplies, she’s never found the spindle (which is probably a good thing considering how much grief I’d had with it in the past) but supplied me with a her wheel, drum carder, hand cards, and a wooden spoon. (I still don’t know what the spoon is for, if someone knows– please tell me.)

The wheel had never been assembled, it was an Ashford Scholar from the 80’s and from what I reckon discontinued with good reason (Irish tension, huge bobbins, and built in lazy kate were all very nice though.) I ordered some llama wool on eBay, and gave the wheel it’s inaugural spin. Since I realized that the tension was the problem (and not having the tension assembly in the box o’ stuff) I gave up, thinking “Black Sheep is in June.”

I must have said it out loud because my husband said “What’s Black Sheep?”

I explained. A look of abject terror spread across his face as he realized I would be at a convention with other people addicted to yarn, surrounded by yarn, and the animals from which yarn is produced. “That sounds like fun, we should go.” He said, although the tone was more like one that you’d use in saying “The dentist says I need a root canal without anesthetic.”

“It’s okay, I’ll call Mom and see if she wants to go.”

Matt didn’t say anything for a while (perhaps the idea of his wife, shopping with her mother, surrounded by other people addicted to yarn, surrounded by yarn, and the animals from which yarn is made and in full possession of the abilty to use a credit card was just a little too much) then after a long time he said “Please don’t bring home a sheep.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“Or an alpaca?”

“I already promised ‘no sheep’ what more do you want?”

In hindsight, coming back from BSG with a drop spindle, a bag of processed fiber, knitting needles, and three raw fleeces was probably equivalent to bringing home at least one sheep.

So the spindle was cheap, and it didn’t last long before I started dusting off my design and engineering skills and turning the first few prototypes on the lathe (which I bought in order to make drop spindles– figuring that I could pay for the lathe in the money I saved by doing my own turnings) and then other people started wanting the spindles. A “customer” got back in touch with me and told me that her new spindle was “a quantum leap in spinning” I told my husband and we borrowed it for the name QuantumSpindles.
I finally got the tension assembly for the Scholar, but then realized that I truly hated the wheel (I’ve never been much of a wheelie anyway) and passed it along to a beginning spinner (who still claims she loves it two years later) and found myself in possession of a Traveller and Traditional (both used and slightly older models, but both are lovely spinners.)

Where does this leave my monomania?

To Be Continued…