I've borrowed a spinning wheel from our group this week. This evening I enthusiastically washed, dried and carded some of Sheilhope Gruna's lovely wool and then attempted to spin it into yarn. Gruna has a decent staple length and the fibres are very fine. Next time I might give Sheilhope Gula's a try however as it is longer and looks as though it might be a bit more forgiving!
It was my first time going it completely alone and, to be honest, a bit of a disaster! After many false starts where I let it get too thin so that it broke and whizzed around the bobbin, I managed to keep going and use up all of the wool that I had prepared.
I think that my main problem was in the preparation of the wool. Not all of the little bits had come out of it (not enough washing and carding I suppose) and there were odd little bobbly bits too. Do I have to sit and pick out all of these? Or am I doing something wrong in the carding process?
Practice, practice, practice!
Friday, 5 February 2010
Fellow Purple Cooer Tattie Weasel has tagged me. My challenge? To reveal a memory.
This required some thought since, though having only 28 years behind me (nearly 29!) I have many memories of wonderful and exciting, and not so wonderful let alone exciting, things that have happened.
Biosphere Expeditions Research Team during the summer following my second year of University. At that time I was getting more seriously into writing and was Science Editor for the University Magazine; a position which earned me an award from the Principal for Outstanding Service to the Student Body. Ah the days of being really appreciated!
Before long I found myself stepping off a plane with my friend Leigh, who had decided to make the trip too, into an unknown world of temple-like trees, bizarre bugs and painted parrots.
Sandoval Lake, an Oxbow off the Madre de
Dios. We walked through a local village and, for a few Sol, were
allowed to borrow one of the locally made canoes.
Soon we were gliding across the mirror calm muddy waters, gawping at the gaudy macaws in the towering trees, smiling at a basking turtle complete with a butterfly on his nose, waving excitedly at long-nose bats roosting openly on the trunks of the palms and laughing at the ungainly movements of hoatzin as they lumbered noisily in the bushes.
Finding us of little consequence, he turned tail and led his family casually off into the swamp forest, squabbling and whistling as they went. We turned so as not to disturb them further and paddled back to the lake, each with an indelible grin on our faces. Let's hope that I'm not among the last to experience such an amazing encounter.