For some years I have had an mild obsession with wool. In my subconscious is a pastoral picture of a hobby farm with a big old white farmhouse and wrap-around deck. There are lovely tended flower beds, a productive weed-free vegetable garden, cats, an Airedale terrier, a chicken coop, and a small barn containing one or two . . . sheep.
Sheep . . . are . . . stupid (Babe. Do you hear the mice?) I know this is a fairy dream so it will stay in my subconscious and the internet. For now. Small farms involve lots of manual labor, cleaning of poo, and minimal profit (Hence the word
hobby). You have to be able to fix your own tractor. You have to have basic veterinary skills. It's not a picnic, in real life. See the excellent blog
www.sheepnotes.blogspot.com by Joan Ellison of Pelican Rapids, MN.
Right now I live in a 1950's rambler in a suburb. I have four children ages 11, 10, 5, and 2 that ensure my garden is not weeded (NO picture provided). I have a 3-legged beagle who is not very smart. My flowerbeds are pretty, but "scruffy." The chickens may happen if I can talk the DH into it. I work 3/4 time as a nurse. Ironically, I do clean up a lot of poo.
So, I buy my wool from other people. My knitting friends introduced me to the
Shepherd's Harvest Festival in Lake Elmo, MN about 6 years ago. It is a fiber FEAST. If you can make it next spring, you must. Even if you aren't a crafter. They have one whole building for demos of spinning, weaving, carding, blending, knitting etc. Outside they have demos of sheepherding, sheep shearing, AND bunny races. You can get lefse, a gyro, a buffalo burger, or a walking taco. They also have two large buildings full of every type of fiber or gizmo that may go with it, including goat, sheep, rabbit, and buffalo fiber, spinning wheels, drop spindles, needles, yarn, handmade baskets, pottery, soap, honey, and all kinds of hand-knit or crocheted or felted objects.
As you may expect, I saw
real hippies there!
So about 6 years ago when I was there, I got a drop spindle and some roving. Roving is
"a long and narrow bundle of fiber. Rovings are produced during the process of making spun yarn from wool fleece, raw cotton, or other fibres." (Wikipedia.)
I was able to make and process my first handspun yarn! I'll explain more about that later in this series. I also learned to call my drop spindle my "drop-and-swear spindle." My guide was "Spin to Knit--The Knitter's Guide to Making Yarn" by Shannon Okey.
After many years of yearning, I was finally able to purchase my own spinning wheel. It's a New Zealand made "Wendy" traditional wheel.
I got it very used for $250, which is the cheapest price I have ever seen. I am going to do a whole separate post about how we met . . . I floated away from Shepherd's Harvest on a cloud of endorphins. I also picked up a dirt cheap and dirty dirty stinky year old fleece for $10!!!
I had to wash it five times before it stopped stinking, and there is still vm (vegetable matter) in it. A bit. There will be a whole post or three about processing the wool, from fleece to finished product.
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| Left: clean wool Right: Carded wool ready to spin |
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| Finished yarn--2 ply Worsted, 10 wpi (wraps per inch) |
Some people no doubt wonder why in heaven I would want to deal with a stinky raw fleece, take the time to pick it and card it, and manually spin it. Why? There are sweaters at Target.
There is something valuable about using your hands to do a task. It's about being connected with the world. When I spin I am repeating an action done for thousands of years by thousands of women. It makes me feel I am a part of humanity. It's about remembering who I am in this world. It's about preserving an ancient art. It's a reminder that just because a machine can do it, that doesn't mean a machine
should do it. It's the same way I feel when I work in my garden, or knead bread dough, or stir a pot of homemade soup on the stove, or hold my sleeping child. I think the word I am looking for is being
human.
The more we have machines do for us, the fewer manual skills we have. I love machines, don't doubt me. Espresso machines especially. I'm not going radical purist either. I've read Isaac Asimov and it's entertaining fiction, folks. Still, wouldn't it be prudent of us to retain these skills somewhere besides a museum? Part of this is a whole movement now, right, the "whole foods" movement? Eat local foods, know your farmer, know where your food came from?
I guess I feel better knowing where my sweater came from too.
When I spin or dig in the dirt or knead dough, I am centered. I am not distracted by tv, or internet (ironic for a blogger), or my smart phone. I feel serene and I can hear my own thoughts and feel my spirit expanding. Verses I learned years ago flow into my head with surprising clarity. That's when I can hear God talking the best . . . Romans 12 says "Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind . . . then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is--His good, pleasing, and perfect will." The renewing of your mind. Not the distracting of your mind. Why are we always seeking to be distracted? What are we afraid of? If we quiet all those distracting noises, we might be able to hear our own inmost thoughts. We might hear God's Spirit calling us. A sweet sweet sound.
People say all the time that they feel lost and have no direction. When I take the time to clear my mind, and bury myself in this kind of work, my mind is clear enough to hear and communicate with my God. And, I can hear His direction through His word and His soft touch on my heart. It's a kind of prayer. I come away feeling satisfied and nourished, body and soul. When I spin, I'm not looking for zen. I'm looking for God.
