Caora Dubh (Black Sheep) Update #2

Say hello to my fleecy friend.  When we last visited her, she was getting a bit smaller, and I showed you some sad-looking little scoured locks.  Here are the rest of the steps I do when I go on a spinning jag:

I grab a lock, and snip off the tip with my dressmakers shears.  I elected to do this only to preserve the deep black color - the tips are not felted or weak, just sun-bleached.  Then I get my dog's trusty $4.97 brush (Paisley doesn't mind loaning it to me for this - she's not a regular fan of the brush), and use it to untangle the lock.  I hold the cut end and work on the tip half of the lock first, then swap ends and do the cut end half.  Then I swap ends again and brush from as close as possible to the cut end, all the way out to the tips.  Any shorter fibers, vegetable matter, and second cuts (of which there are very few) come right out in the process, leaving this:

luffy, no? Listen closely and you can hear it whispering "sssssspiiiiiiiiiinnnnn meeeeeeee.."

luffy, no? Listen closely and you can hear it whispering "sssssspiiiiiiiiiinnnnn meeeeeeee.."

As each lock is trimmed and brushed, I line them up in rows so the ends and tips are all still in the same direction, in this somewhat larger mesh bag. There are about 30-40 locks in there, if you're wondering.  That's all there is to it.  I just snag a few locks and spin them up whenever I want.  Sometimes I head straight for the wheel at this point, and sometimes I zip the bag shut and call it good.  Depends on my whim, energy level, and the proximity of frosty beverages.  I've noticed that I approach spinning differently than knitting:  Knitting is all business for me, with clearly defined goals, deadlines and project landmarks.  Spinning is the opposite - I treat it like vacation, playtime, or dessert.  No hurry, enjoy it as long as I can, only in it for the fun of it.  Both approaches feel really good to me, so I guess I must need both activities.

Aren't these just the cutest little locks, waiting to be spun?  The look like little fiber creatures.  I shall call them Wooly-Blobs.  And they shall be my friends.

Aren't these just the cutest little locks, waiting to be spun?  The look like little fiber creatures.  I shall call them Wooly-Blobs.  And they shall be my friends.

Once I do make it over to the wheel (usually after the appropriate beverage interlude - we aren't savages, after all), I make some of this:

Who's your daddy?

Who's your daddy?

Which, if you are closer to it, looks like this:

I haven't decided yet what I want this to be when it grows up.  I'm thinking of a 5-ply, just to see if I can do it.  Never have made a Guernsey before...

Of course, there is the issue of how much yarn I will actually get (notwithstanding the issue of whether I will live long enough to spin all 5.5 lbs).  And the fact that as a rank beginner, I have no reason to think I will automatically get the yarn I think I am spinning for.  It's a magical surprise journey! 

Not unlike knitting, actually: Raw Materials + Big Fat Idea + Tenacity + Irrational Optimism = Anybody's Guess!

Red Faery

Remember when I was carrying on about not wanting to duplicate any more projects?  Yeah, I take it all back.  I found the love again, and its name is Faery Ring. 

What better gift could knitting give to me, than a reminder that I still love this design?  I might even love it more, now that I'm not creating it for the first time.  It's relaxing; almost as if I'm making someone else's pattern.  There is a huge luxury inherent in the assumption that the pattern you are making will actually turn out to be the design you expected.  This is not something designers get to enjoy when making a brand-new project.  Not having to count every single stitch eight times because it's being written down for someone else to follow is really nice.  I can remember what it was like to knit before I was a designer, and the freedom and joy that go with diving into a project for which the heavy lifting has already been done.

When I made my first Faery Ring, I had no guarantee at the beginning that the sweater I got at the end would be any good.  This one is a different experience, with that element resolved.  I know it will be good, because the first one is proof.  At last, I understand the advantage of making the same thing twice: If I liked the first one, the second will be even better.  I even think I may be starting to understand how some knitters latch onto a pattern and make it over and over again (horrors!).  There is a huge degree of comfort and reassurance in knowing a recipe so well that you can make it by heart.  What could be better than knitting like that?
 

Same Bat Time, Same Bat Channel

Same Bat Time.jpg

Last March, I hopped a plane to Cleveland, OH, and visited the super-talented Knitting Daily TV team.  I was fortunate to appear in one of the episodes for season three.  Here I am chatting with Shay Pendray.

If you click the image above, you will be taken to Interweave's Knitting Daily website, where, if you log in as a member, you can download the free pattern for Ebony Jewelwing.  This is one of my favorite projects from The New Stranded Colorwork.  It ultimately was left out of the book, due to length constraints, but I'm so pleased to be able to share it with you this way - you know how I love free stuff...!

You can see me demonstrating some techniques using this pattern in episode #306 of Knitting Daily TV.  Check your local PBS station listings to find out when it airs.  The season will also be available on DVD, too.