I started spinning in the morning again. Every morning used to have some sort of fiber work (play), but then it just stopped. I stopped, and didn’t realize that I was missing it. It’s been nice to start the day with
I was spinning up some yarn for my friend Mary (it’s in the mail today, I promise), and I had to split it among two separate bobbins. It wasn’t a big deal, and the yarn came out awesome. I found myself wishing I had a larger flyer and bobbin for my wheel. I’d be able to spin one continuous hank of yarn. I swear, the Universe cocked her ear to the side and started listening to me. I woke up the day after finishing the yarn to a lady posting a jumbo sliding flyer that just happened to fit on my spinning wheel. It was a sign.
I think about fiber all the time. I think about things to do with it. Can I make this into a doll? What kind of hat would this create? Can I spin that? I wonder if food coloring would make that a brilliant purple if I dyed it right… Yeah. All. The. Time. I keep myself up at night thinking about fiber. I dream about fiber. I really like the smell of fresh wool fibers. My bunny Priscilla even has a neat woolly smell to her. Fiber. Yeah.