Last night in knitting

I tried to count to 130.

I was casting on for the second piece of Norah Gaughan’s “Flow” tank top, because it seemed like I should finish that before the snow flies. I always feel stupid when I start a tank top at the beginning of the summer, imagining it a useful thing, and then finish it in just enough time for it to be a ridiculous garment. Not this time. I’ve got the front done (or maybe it’s the back, they are both the same) and that means it should be a really quick dash to the finish. I sat down to cast on 130 stitches, and 10 hours later I had what I believe is the right number.

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Ten hours. That’s about 9 hours and 59 minutes longer than it should have taken, and I have no explanation beyond the fact that as much as I love summer, my brain may actually have been poached last night. Toronto continues to be a scorching place to be, and last night it didn’t even help that the burning day star had gone away. It was sultry and hot and steamy, and as romantic as the unrelenting heat is (and it does hold its charms, especially to a city that has as much winter as we do- don’t let my complaining steer you wrong.) It does influence ones intelligence. There is nothing to do in this heat but lie about drinking things like ice water with fresh mint leaves in it… and here I hauled off and tried to count to 130.

I cast on as I counted, got 130. Recounted to be sure, got 118. Added enough to come up to 130, got 140. Took away 10, got 123. Counted again. Got 125. Counted again and got 126, and at that point I went upstairs and sat in cold water in the bathtub (that’s why it’s sitting there) until I could remember my middle name, then came downstairs and counted again. 125. Excellent. Added five, got back in the bath and then went to bed. This morning I counted and I had 129, added one and got 130 twice in a row – which was good enough. 10 hours. Seriously. I can’t believe it.

This morning, after yet another cool bath and a little sleep, I can think of at least 3 good ways that I could have done that. I could have slipped a marker onto the needle every 10 stitches… could have marked of sections with the tail of the yarn, could have… Ok. I can only think of two, but my point is that 10 hours for a grade 3 counting job? Should I really be in charge of this family? (Wait.. yeah, that’s it. I’m incompetent and should be immediately relieved of duty. Lets start with dinner. I’m probably not bright enough to be trusted with the stove. Should order in. Also, that washing machine looks complex…)

In any event, Now that I’ve done the hard part, the back of this should whip along. I’ve got something to do today that isn’t spinning wheel compatible, should make good time on it. The heat hasn’t effected my ability to spin much… except for at the height of the days heat, and I actually think that my inability to think might have helped me on this last skein. I started with 120g of combed top from Mind’s Eye Yarns, though I don’t remember the name or brand. (Better notes, must take better notes. Hey Lucy? Do you remember what this is?)

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I fall for top like this all the time, mostly because I forget that it drives me mental to spin it. I always end up with something muddy with all the colours mixed too much, when really what I want is yarn that resembles the roving. Usually what I do is spin the top exactly as it comes. Actually, I spin the top exactly as it comes while cursing profusely because I am essentially a woollen style spinner, with a preference for long draw. This style of spinning is (I think… although I’m only going on my experience here) a really bad match for top. Top is combed rather than carded like roving, and that means that it’s very straight and slippery. My personal spinning style (which I appear helpless to change despite all efforts) just leaves the wheel grabbing this sort of fibre out of my hands no matter how lightly I set my tension. This time though, I broke all the rules because I was just too hot to care.

I steamed the top first – using moisture to restore the crimp to the wool and give it a little more of the resistance of roving. Then I pulled it into strips and started spinning. I didn’t worry about the colours, I just ripped off pieces lengthwise so I could spin “down” the colours instead of spinning across them. The bobbin didn’t look as promising as I had hoped it would be,

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Though there was definitely more colour separation than I usually get in this sort of top. When I had it all spun up.. no thinking, no worrying, no trying to arrange things… I Navajo plied the lot, and wow. Did I get a surprise.

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I couldn’t have planned it better. After years of trying to make this sort of top turn into the sort of yarn that I wanted, it took a heat wave that robbed me of the ability to overthink to give me results I love.

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150m of worsted weight 3ply, 120g, wool.



I adore this yarn to the point of distraction. Distraction. It’s beautiful and fluffy and squishy and If I spin nothing else during the Tour de Fleece, this will make it worth it. It’s on my desk and I just keep squeezing it and touching it and marvelling at how interesting each little strand is. See?

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Sigh. My precious.

PS. I keep forgetting to mention that I’ll be at the Bathurst Clark library (900 Clark Ave West) in Vaughan on Tuesday July 22nd at 7pm. It’s free, but you do need to register (so they can get you a chair) by phoning the library at (905) 653-READ. It’s going to be a smaller event than I’ve been doing, and I’m thrilled by that. I’m going to read a little from the latest book, and then I’m hoping the rest of the time will be filled with a really fun Q&A. Please think up a question for me, and come on down. (It’s air-conditioned.)

PPS. No baby yet.

It’s go time

Last night we showered our lovely Megan (Lettuce knit owner, not my daughter Megan) with gifts and best wishes for her impending wee babe, showing both of them the sort of love that only knitters know how to do.

There were sweaters, (I made these ones.)

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and blankets,

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and shawls,

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and more sweaters,

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and bibs,

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and longies (sort of ironic in the 40 degree heat, but winter will be back, and a Canadian baby needs that sort of thing.)

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and another shawl,

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and hats,

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and sheepies and sheep books,

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and one very special blanket, brainchild of the wondrous Denny, knit by all of us.

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Denny doled out half skeins of cotton – telling us to all cast on 12 stitches and knit until it ran out.

We did, wondering how she was going to pull it all together. (Never doubt Denny. You will be wrong.) Denny matched all the strips of different lengths along their midpoints and sewed them together, making a wonderful stepped edge. Then she assigned each of us a number for our strip, and embroidered that number on ribbon and sewed it on.

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There’s a longer piece of ribbon left, and Denny will embroider the baby’s name on it… when we know what it is, and that will be sewn along the top. Cunning.. yes?

It was a wonderful evening, with wonderful friends and the most glorious sense of of an approaching good thing. I don’t know who’s in there, but I know that they are going to be someone really, really great.

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Now, if you don’t mind, and as you can clearly see from that picture, Megan is more than ready to meet her baby, so please take a moment of your day and send the charmer this message.

It’s a good day to be born, we’re all waiting to meet you. Move along – and safe trip. It’s great out here.

I can see the line from here

It’s super hot again, and Megan (owner of Lettuce Knit – not my daughter Megan) is still pregnant, and I absolutely don’t want to be responsible for keeping her pregnant by failing to finish baby sweaters for whoever is in there.

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Family myth has it that no baby is born before I finish their knitting, in fact my three daughters (one two weeks late, one two weeks early and one right on time) were born the day after I finished their blankets, as was my nephew Hank. There’s a string of them – and it’s mostly true, although a couple of years ago I did get totally messed up by a set of premature twins. Took two of them to take me down though.

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Last night I got to thinking about how very pregnant she is, and how very heavy babies are towards the end, and how they are in such a really crappy place in your body, right there in your pelvis and abdomen where you used to keep organs you used all the time, like your bladder and your lungs… and the guilt just swept over me, and I stepped away from the wheel and sat down and finished the sweaters.

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There’s no way that I want to be responsible, not even on a molecular level, for her being pregnant one second longer. (Besides, I think that if she thought that I was the reason she was still pregnant with this kid my life would be in danger, and it’s not like I can avoid her. She owns a yarn shop. Near my house. A yarn shop near my house with my friends in it. A yarn shop near my house with my friends in it and beer. See? Even if I tried not to go in there, we all know she’d have the best of me in a couple of days.)

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The sweaters are blocking now, and I’ll have the buttons on them later, and then I’ll be able to look Megan in the eye again, and know that if she’s still pregnant, it’s got nothing to do with me.

I’m flying a plane

No actually, that’s just a desperately interesting title to lift the tedium of another entry about spinning.

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Spritely Goods batt, Merino and firestar in “Bursage

I’m beginning to feel dreadful about it, worried that the parade of rovings, batts, singles and yarn of various plies is going to eventually wear on you, my gentle reader. I worry that in as much as I love yarn and I know you love yarn, that at some point saying “Hey look, I turned this into this” will begin to make you as fidgety as a two year old caught eating coffee beans, seeing as how many of you aren’t spinners, and don’t care to be, but I am helplessly caught in all of this.

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Hiding in layers, the sparkly firestar and tones of green.

I love to spin, for starters. I love many, many elements of it the same way that I love knitting. I love the act of creation that it is, I love waving my hands around (as with knitting, for a very long time) and then sitting back and looking at what has happened and realizing that I have done magic again. Slow magic, but magic. Turning one thing into another. Yarn into socks is almost the same feeling as wool into yarn… spinning feels as clever and validating as knitting… especially when I get it right. The fact that I don’t get it right very often because I have so much left to learn only makes it more thrilling when I actually get what I wanted… or at least something good. Add to that the thrilling oldness of spinning, and I am entirely in it’s thrall.

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Fine singles, half of the batt on each bobbin.

Knitting, as we do it now (and excluding the crafts that inspired it’s birth, like nålebinding) is probably about 1000 years old, at best. By human standards, it is young. So young that there is no goddess who knit, no patron saint for knitters, no Greek or Roman myth that has knitting as it’s plot line- nor even a word for knitting in any ancient language. The first time that a reference to knitting is made in a play was in Shakespeare’s time. Knitting is a new human thing. Very new.

Spinning on the other hand, has been with humans for just about as long as there have been humans. Spindle whorls have been found dating back to Neolithic times. The ancient Egyptians said that Isis taught women to spin, the Greeks said it was Athene and Artemis. There is the Germanic Goddess Holda, Japanese Goddess Amaterasu, Norse Goddess Frigg. Native peoples on the continent where I live have long believed in a Spider woman who spun and wove and taught people these skills, along with bringing them the sun, or the moon or fire. Africa has Anansi, the spider and spinner… even the Greek Fates themselves, the Moirae began with Clotho… who spun the thread of life. Spinning is old. Spinning is so old. Spinning is so old that there is virtually no historic event that you can think of that did not have spinning as a part of it.

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60g (2 oz) of laceweight, shades of green with sparkles like dew. 200m.

Mummies are wrapped in cloth made from handspun. Confucius gave advice wearing clothes of handspun. Socrates thought, Ceasar ruled, Hannibal crossed the alps with his elephants, Euclid fathered Geometry, The battle of Hastings was fought in handspun. Columbus sailed to the new world with sails of handspun. Imagine a time, up until not very long ago, that if you needed thread or yarn for anything in your life, it was handspun – All handspun. I can’t imagine it. It takes hours and hours for me to make yarn – and I don’t even have to deal with sheep, shearing, skirting, scouring or carding, unless I want to – and I’m not even making good yarn. I am at an entire loss to conceive of a world where I spin enough for my product to be woven (or knitted) into all the clothes, sheets, blankets or even sails that my family needed. It is magical.

Totally magical, and so I’m sort of sorry for the boring parade of wee skein after skein, parading by as the blog grows ever more dull in these weeks where I’m doing a lot of spinning, but when you think of all the history that has come before my rovings, batts, singles and skeins… maybe think for a little on how this is a vitally important piece of humanity….

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It’s not really all that boring… is it?

In which I am all over it

Moments after I typed “I can do it” on Friday, I felt a wicked sense of foreboding. You know that feeling where you look at a friend and say “I’m sure he’ll show up” or “There’s no way that could happen” or “I know I’ve covered all the bases” … that feeling where as soon as those confident words are out of your mouth, you know that sure as anything you’ve just about guaranteed that you’re about to get a face plant into a pool of muddy humility – assuming you dodge the immediate lightning strike?

Usually for me, I feel that feeling and then the planet takes a look at me and my cocky self assurance and says “Listen, I can’t let you carry on thinking that you know what’s going on here. Your perception that if you get it together you’ll have it together is wildly wrong. I’m in charge here, and I’m a fickle, unsteady, mercurial planet, who mixes things up for no other reason than it’s Wednesday, that oil spill has me seriously pissed off and you’re getting a little big for your britches. I’m flooding your basement. Have a great day Little Miss I-can-do-it”

I had that feeling. I said “I can catch up, just give me the weekend” and I felt a shiver go down my spine. The basement window did leak during the last storm… it was cocky to think I could get back on board with two days… but dudes: Behold the power of positive thinking.

1. The Baby Mine sweater is moving right along, after only two rips back, both in the very embryonic stages.

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This part is now working perfectly, and I know that there is no way that this will take a total rip back at this point. Sure, the yoke and I might get into an unseemly wrestling match, but this part? Licked.

2. I finished spinning this pretty, pretty fibre from Clouds of Fiber. (I’m pretty sure this is her website here… but my note taking at the time of acquisition has clearly failed me. Let this be a lesson. Do not think that fibre is so memorable that you will remember from whence it sprang. You will forget. No matter how lovely it is, no matter how stellar the day…. you will forget.)

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Similarly, I’m not sure what sort of fibre it is. Clearly a down breed, maybe merino… something really springy and cushie for sure. What it is now is 140g of a nice, soft, thick two ply, perfect for a hat or mittens for the winter. My original spinning teacher told me that part of being a good spinner is being able to spin what you want – and that all spinners have a tendency to spin thinner and thinner with experience. She advocated spinning a thicker yarn from time to time, lest you lose the knack. It was clearly good advice, since it’s way harder for me to spin thick than thin these days.

3. More. This is a pretty batt from Spinderella, one of her mixes that I love called “thrums”.

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Now it’s a gorgeously sparkly skein of three ply yarn. These thrums are mixes of tons of stuff. Wool, sparkle, nylon, silk, bunny, silk…. bits of cut up yarn. They’re deliciously fun to spin, though the mix means that they resist all urges to spin them as a very even single. You’re spinning along and you hit a snip of yarn or a clump of silk and that’s it. You’ve got a thicker spot and there’s nothing you can do about it.

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What I did was rely on the magic of three ply, the way that any handspun single looks smoother, rounder and more perfect when paired with two of its friends. I navajo (or “chain”) plied this. It’s a tiny skein, only about 90m and 60g, but I love it.

4. That fun led to going back into the stash and pulling out another of her “thrum” creations. This one has wool, mohair, alpaca, nylon, soy silk and “other”….

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which turned out to be wee snips of navy, marine blue and cream yarn. Big fun. Seriously big fun.

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Churned out 160 metres (120g) of three ply, which despite its clearly non-Stephanie stuff (namely the sparkles, which usually move me not) is a yarn that I adore and makes me think of things like the Ice Queen or cool sparkling brook water, spilling over rocks.

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This latest push in the Tour De Fleece means that I’ve spun a total of 580g, with 14 days to go, meaning I still need to spin 65 g a day to meet my goal, but I think I can do it.

(Note the careful use of the word “think”. I’m not pushing my luck with any more absolute statements.)

Mystery object

I posted a picture yesterday of a wee obsession, and most of you guessed it, and some of you were rightly hesitant to make a guess, especially since I am fickle as the wind and just about as consistent.

Carol observed:



It’s the Baby Mine sweater! Gotta be.

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She’s totally right. Two points to anyone who remembered that while I’m spinning up more and more things and fussing about twists per inch, Megan of Lettuce Knit is getting bigger and closer by the minute. (I’m remembering to add “from Lettuce Knit”, since someone said they were thinking it was my Megan my SIXTEEN YEAR OLD DAUGHTER who was about to have a baby and even the suggestion of that gave me palpitations and may have ruptured something in my brain. Lucky for us Joe talked me into that chastity belt for daytimes and the cage at night, so I don’t have to worry.) it was starting to feel reckless to not knit this little gift.

Jennie says:

It looks like the cuff from Lenore to me (but maybe I’m just seeing things now I’m so far behind with the Rockin Sock Club?)

Nope Jennie, you’re bang on the money. (Very observant knitter there.) Months and months ago I designed a sock for the Rockin’ Sock Club. It was a gothic sort of sock called “Lenore” (because it was in a Raven colourway – get it?) and from the moment I charted this little bit of business I knew it would make a perfect sweater pattern as well. I’ve been thinking about it ever since. The pattern for the sock isn’t widely available yet, but if you’re in the sock club, this probably did ring some bells for you. I can’t wait to show you (and sort of me) what this looks like as a baby sweater. I’m pretty seriously psyched up for it. If I didn’t have to eat, sleep, parent, talk to Joe and work for a living, this would be done. Maybe also a bonnet. With a cream coloured satin ribbon. Not that I’m thinking about it much.

CTJen enquires:

Is that the lovely soft pink STR you had especially dyed for your friend who’s oven timer is about to go off? Lovely. I would be obsessed, too.

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Good call. This is Quilla, one of the two colours that I had Tina at Blue Moon invent in honour of Megan’s new baby. (The other one was Nyame.) I’ve had lots of people ask if these are just skeins in that Tina dyed for me or if they are going to be made available to knitterdom at large, and if you follow those links by clicking on the names you can see that they’re already available. I’m making the sweaters out of STR mediumweight, but the colours are available in all her yarns. (I think. Mostly. A lot for sure.)

Kit says:

Ah yes, sometimes I get like that too. We’ll send in reinforcements to make sure you get your hydration. Would you like an IV?

Yes. Thanks for understanding. (Also, if there exists out there a human who feels the same way about mopping a kitchen floor, doing the laundry or figuring out where the (*&^%!!! the ants in the kitchen are coming from as I do about this sweater, feel free to drop by.)

Fiona says:

You obsessed???- I can hardly believe it!!!

Yeah. I know. Came outta nowhere. Oddest thing. Whoosh.

Minnie says:

funny, that doesn’t look like a spinning wheel! 1500 gms indeed!

HA!

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I’m spinning too! Yeah. Ok. I’m a little behind. I can catch up. I swear it. Just give me the weekend. I’ll have a sweater and a bunch of yarn spun up. And a clean house. And no email in my inbox. And I’m making dinner.

I CAN DO IT.

(Ok. Just bring me over some beer will ya? We’re still out, and it’s starting to effect my coping strategies.)

Fast, but not faster

The Tour de Fleece continues, with me falling further behind at every turn. Yesterday I finished spinning the merino/tencel roving.

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It’s lovely stuff. The Tencel (“Tencel” is a brand name for lyocell, an engineered fibre made from wood pulp) makes the fiber want to be thin. Like with silk, the long length of the tencel fibres make it easy to spin it thin and fast.. and by fast, I don’t mean quickly, I mean with the wheel going fast.

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Now, I’m a really, non-technical spinner. I spin yarn I like – or I try to, spinning is like knitting, lots of times your results can be a surprise. I spin yarn that I think looks right, and I apply techniques to that that make it work for me. Still there’s some stuff that’s usually mostly true in spinning. For example, generally speaking, a fine yarn needs more twist to hold it together than a bulky one does. The finer the yarn gets, the more twist it needs and since what makes twist is the wheel (and therefore flyer) going around, you either need a “fast” wheel or to treadle more to put that twist in. It’s sort of a question of scale. I have drawn this very poor illustration to show you what I mean.

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If you have a thick yarn, lets say a it’s a bulky – there on the left, and set out to spin it so it looks right, then making it look right isn’t going to take very many twists per inch. See how there’s only two twists in that measure? Now compare it to the skinnier yarn on the right. The two yarns both look the same, that one is just smaller, but that lesser diameter means that now it’s taking 10 twists per inch. (Those are, by the way, totally made up numbers, not the actual suggested twists per inch for bulky or laceweight.) Since this particular fibre wants to be skinny, and therefore have lots of twist, I used my Ashford Joy, because it’s got higher ratios than my Traditional. (Higher ratios means that for each treadle, the flyer spins more times.) The Traditional (I have an old one that only has one choice) has a ratio of 7:1 (I think) so for every treadle, the flyer turns (or twists) seven times. At that rate, spinning a laceweight is going to be pretty hampsteresque in the treadling department. The Joy has a higher ratio available so that makes it a “faster” wheel. It made it easier to get enough twist in the single (what’s on the bobbin in the picture above). I’m a chronic “underspinner”. According to a lot of people who know this sort of thing (which I don’t) an ideal knitting yarn is “underspun” in the single, and then “overplied” to give it the right amount of twist. (For you non-spinners, plying is when you take two (or three, or ten singles, and twist them together in the direction opposite to the direction you just spun them in.)

I am, in addition to being a chronic underspinner, also a chronic underplyer. I simply don’t add enough twist to things. I’ve forgiven myself for it in the spinning (since apparently a slightly underspun single can be desirable) and had hoped this time to try and add the right amount of twist in the plying. I thought I had it too.

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I treadled during plying until I thought I had enough. Then I added more. Then I added more until I had added so much that I felt like for sure I had added too much.

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Then I set the twist with steam (I use the highly advanced “hold it over your kettle” approach, and the fibre relaxed and, a thousand curses….

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Still not enough. Can I just say that I know that there’s a learning curve, and I understand that I have to be on it like everyone else, but that I still think it sucks? There’s a solution here. I could put it back through the wheel and add more ply twist… but I just don’t want to. I just want it to be right next time and I want to know how you tell that there’s enough twist in the first place? Is there a formula? Can you count it? Experienced spinners… how do you tell when you’ve got it right?

In knitting news,

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All the pieces of the “Baby Yours” sweater are done. At least I know when I’m doing that right.

Too hot to handle

It’s one hundred million thousand degrees (Centigrade) in my house and I am not exaggerating even one little bit. It’s so hot that the butter melted into the inside of the cupboard and the cat has spent the day assuming various lewd positions to try and cool off. With humidex, it’s 36 outside (that’s 97 F) , and it is definitely hotter in the house than it is outside. Last year we had a little room air conditioner we stuck in a window, but that’s dead, and there hasn’t been the spare change to replace it. We’ve managed to claim a used one, but it’s not hooked up and Joe’s out of town. It sits there by the door taunting me with my complete inability to hook it up, even if I marshal the girls into helping me. It’s just too damn heavy and we need to go to the hardware store (for what, I am not sure) and it’s too hot to go to the hardware store and dudes…. it’s just too hot. I’ve been taking refuge outside in the evenings, and it’s been more than lovely, and the only place you can be that your wool doesn’t stick to you. Saturday night, a few other spinners had the same idea as we began the Tour De Fleece. We spun in the cooler night air, quaffed few cold ones and were entertained by babies who have clear interests in the Fibre Arts.

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(Edited to add: I know I just said it was really hot but here this poor baby has a sweater on. I swear it was cooler that evening – we aren’t out to poach poor little innocents who are helpless to defend themselves against our sweater/wool/knitting zeal.)

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Jen won the evenings award for multitasking when she managed to rock and nurse her baby while simultaneously learning to Navajo ply.

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(I still can’t believe she could do it. )

I happily spun away, working on the first thing in my 1500g challenge (that is never going to work by the way. I’m starting to understand how wrong I was to set it as a goal) … a practically antique mohair/wool roving from Blue Moon.

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This roving is so old (by roving standards) that Tina doesn’t even work with this fibre anymore. (She just does the sheep to shoe.) This roving is also so old that it had felted a little from being jockeyed around my stash. That made it hard to spin smoothly, since it wanted to stick to itself in a really dedicated way.

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I stuck with it though, getting through about half of it that evening, and the other half on Sunday evening, then plying Monday morning before the searing hot day star came up and roasted my house.

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That’s about 300m or (really, really poorly spun) yarn where there was fibre. That’s about 200g of my Tour de Fleece challenge, with my goal being 1500. So yesterday there was 21 spinning days remaining, about 1300g left to do, and I did the math and worked out that means I need to spin about 61g of fibre a day to make my goal.

If this heat keeps up, that may end up being about as likely as fairy princesses showing up to do my laundry.

Last night I took the wheel into the backyard (actually, the tiny patio that pretends to be a backyard) when the heat broke and it was possible to have fibre slip between my fingers again, and I started working on this:

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This is a pretty, pretty merino/tencel blend from The Sheep Shed, in a colourway that I can’t remember and is probably irrelevant anyway, since I bought it way back in 2004 at Rhinebeck. It’s interesting, this decision to go back into the stash and spin some of the oldest stuff first. I’m all surprised by my own stuff… It’s like it’s Christmas in your own stash.

On your mark

Le Tour de Fleece begins today, and I’m starting to get ready. The official beginning is later with some compatriots, but for now I have got to figure out what my challenge will be. The rules say that you should set yourself a challenge (no matter what that is), that you start when the Tour starts (today) and finish when the Tour ends (July 27th) and you should spin from stash. (No problem here.)

I’m loving reading other people’s goals. Diane is a new spinner, going to make one skein of yarn, Rebecca is going to spin three bobbins full, Spunsilver is doing an Abby Batt and adding sequins (I have no idea how to do that.) Silke is going to spin 400g of camel, but has been training. (I think, my German is a joke) Teresa is going to work on getting 1200-1600 yds of 2 ply.

I’ve thought long and hard on it, been diving in the stash, kicking around various ideas, and I think I’ve come up with a good challenge for me.

1. Spin every day, even if it’s only a little, on a spindle project that has been kicking around way, way too long.

2. Working more or less oldest to newest, stash bust to the tune of 1.5 kilograms. (That’s 1500g, or 3lbs, 5oz)

I know that sounds like a crazy amount, but I actually just backed off of a 2000g commitment when I saw how big that pile was. It was insane, although I think maybe this pile might be a little bit too insane too…What’s that look like?

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It looks like a lot of fibre, that’s what it looks like. (Please do not mention that the problem with busting the fibre stash being that it creates more yarn stash. It’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.)

Allons-y!