Knitting Keeps Me Sane

Late spring '04 my mother was going right along, had her own spinning wheel and lots of contacts to many people. I really thought I had enough with my knitting hobby and didnt even try to get into spinning, until she explaimed one day:

"Next weekend there is a large sheeps market in Kiel, at the outdoor museum there. Do you want to go with me, I will sit and spin as an exhibit?"

"I cant spin, mom, so what should I do there, just sit and stare at sheep?"

"Well you can sit and knit..."

"If 'I' am going to a spinners meeting I want to be able to spin. I dont want to be the odd one everyone can sit and snicker at"

"You will not be the only one I assure you.."

"You are wastly underestimating me, and I'll show you... (insert evil laughter here)"

I think she planned it that way *laughs*

As said, so done. I sat down with her wheel, a vague idea of what spinning was, and a bunch of carded sheeps wool, (almost) violently refused her tution and a few hours later had two choke-full bobbins of white wool. She plied them for me, but I didnt even look at them anymore, they didnt interest me... after all, now I knew how to spin, and that was enough.
A few days later she dyed some small batches of wool, a green one, a red one, a blue one...
I stole both the red and blue one, and when the spinning day arrived she had no choice but to sit'n'knit, because her wheel was taken.

I seemed to get the hang of it naturally and easily, and very experienced spinners marveled at my yarn even though I had only been spinning for less than a week.

The explanation is this; my hands knew what they were doing. I made soft, wearable wool, even and smooth without no tution at all, only an ancient knowledge that must have lived in my hands since I was born. Apparently it unleashed itself as soon as I got good raw sheeps wool in my hands, and a spindle or wheel to play with.

Why this lenghty explanation?
I finally finished something I am quite proud of. I bought a large bag of raw sheeps wool from a spinning friend, a quite coarse and basic wool, but in the bottom of the bag there was (uncleaned) 300 grams of something very dirty and tangled, but with long staples and a promise of being soft. I spent a lot of time with it, washing it carefully many times, laying it out to dry, picking each lock out for itself, washing it once more and laying each lock out seperately to dry. I used my mothers wool combs and combed all the wool, sitting and combing and combing it over and over again for hours.
I decided that I wanted a one-ply yarn to try and imitate the look of shetland cobweb yarn, spun a 50-gram-skein and took to make other things. Inbetween I spun two smaller skeins, but today I finally pulled myself together and firstly carded the rest of the wool, and then spun it into a moderately fine single.

Imagine me crying out: Finí!
I dont spin much, but when I spin I want it to be good (and sometimes it is).

Here is a picture of my yarn.



The large skein in the middle was the first one. I have no idea why this skein is so different, but maybe it was due to my quite harsh washing and whacking it afterwards? I will try to wash them again, and see if I can bring it all to look alike.

There are now 170 grams of yarn, roughly translating (calculation based on the last skein) into 1900 yards of yarn, or 550 yards/50 grams. That is even thinner than what Knitpicks calls lace weight, so 1900 yards should go pretty far, right? :-)

My ideas for this yarn are: Print o' the wave lace stole (But then I'd have to dye this yarn), or a circular shawl of some fashion.

Have a nice day

Lene