Today was plying and finishing class. Plying is when you take multiple single yarns that you've spun, and spin them together to create yarn you can make stuff with. Sounds easy enough. Hah! There are twists and turns and treadle speeds and ratios...and a sad mess. Today I was the remedial student. It was embarrassing. There I was surrounded by creative people...there was the womon who infused wool with the color of late summer sunshine--using marigolds no less, the guy who had no questions but great--and clearly achievable--plans for the roving he was smoothly and flawlessly spinning, and another womon quietly sitting in a corner plying three singles together to create a fine, lovely yarn of wool and angora; when she talked about the sweater she'd make from it, I knew I'd be seeing that sweater, and lusting after it! But my wheel and I produced a tangled mess, that even my absolutely untrained eyes knew didn't vaguely resemble something usable.
I never expected to sit down at the wheel and 'get it' all at once. But to be so infatuated with wool, to love the feel and energy of it, to want to linger long and have a meaningful relationship with it, only to still be knitting squares and spinning slubby singles that bceome painfully plied pairings is discouraging. All that mess up there, and here's the little segment that is what it should have been:
Do you ever feel like you came into your own life too late? I didn't meet Linda until I was 43. Didn't meet wool until I was 48. Didn't figure out that a homespun life with critters (besides cats) and gardens might be what my soul longed for. And now that I know all this, sometimes it just seems too late for all of it. Not too late in years; I'm only 50 1/2. No...too late to learn new tricks. Too late to be a student all over again, to face failure and be the remedial student, that 'one' who needs all the extra help. Too late to get up and feed chickens before going to work. Too late to relish digging and sweating on a hot summer day even for the profound joy of biting into the sweet flesh of a sunbathed tomato. That's how I'm feeling today. Tomorrow I'll sit at the wheel and spin my singles and count the treadling in an effort to create something consistent and worth plying. Tomorrow I'll read Backyard Poultry and talk with Linda about how we'll address all those things that made me quit on chickens (like Winter housing and fencing) so we can try again and be successful. Tomorrow--or some snowy day (if we EVER get one this Winter)--we'll pull out the seed catalogs and garden bed drawings, and plan again. But today, I'm just tired and discouraged. Today I feel like the little match girl peering in the windows at the wondrous creations of people who speak the language of wool, and feeling like I'm never gonna get there. Deep sigh.
7 comments:
The ups and downs of snow and wool and chickens. We become weary of it and slide down the hill and wait for summer. Not. We rest a bit and run at life again.
Don't despair! Mine didn't look much better. I can tell this is going to take some practice! And that's what every spinner tells me...just practice practice! And so we do.
Thanks to both....I did do some more practice today. I guess I need to just focus on consistency for now...spinning consistent singles, and accept that I may need to do this in baby steps.
I've never even considered taking on the task of spinning wool into yarn. I've tried my hand a kitting yarn into something wearable, but that was a disaster. I'm just not good at that sort of thing, but I believe it must bring great contentment and satisfaction when you're in sync with those processes.
It's never too late for anything as long as you're breathing. I'd say you're in your prime to enjoy what you've discovered about yourself.
Okay, first, lets start with the fact that I am 54 - and a half. Sigh. Now, with that behind us, it is NEVER too late to get to where you are now because your entire life was leading you to this moment! (Yes, years of hippie philosophy can come spewing out of me at any moment in time!!) Seriously - I understand feeling like this is more work than fun, but you don't have to do it all at once. And Chickens can be nasty smelly beasts who peck at you and are far from cuddly - I lived with them too. And one thing I learned from living on a self-sufficient organic farm is that it is a full-time job - you can't do it and hold a job at the same time. We had 4 families working two acres of organic garden, spinning our honey, cutting our wood, pressing our cider and raising chickens for eggs and we had to barter for our dairy products and fruits and grains because we could not do it all - and that was with 4 families doing nothing else. (that was also in my hippie youth - way before kids and real jobs) I didn't even think of spinning wool until this past year and I just got a spinning wheel in October. I have a long way to go but I try to get to the store for the Saturday 12-3 Knit and Spin just to give myself 3 hours of practice a week. Most of the time that is all of the spinning I can fit in in a week. Come spin with me and we can talk about what we are doing and how badly we are doing it. I already decided you have to be my friend anyway. :) I'm druidic. ;) And we can talk dye plant gardens and arrange time to play with yarn and flowers and pots of steaming water. See, don't you feel happier already?
@ Shel...indeed I do feel better after such encouraging words--and philosophy--from everyone. And I did pull out the wheel for a singles practice session Sunday, and am not going to give up on it. And we have a chicken game plan in place. And I'd love to come play with flowers & yarn & steaming pots of water one of these days.
Oh Good. I added your blog to my blog roll so it will be easier for me to see how you are doing and give my occasional pep talks. I may need them occasionally too so it will be reciprocal. :D
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