This morning after a marathon two hour duel with the spinning wheel, I showed up at the final installment of the spinning workshop in the afternoon feeling like maybe I was getting somewhere.
I'd made something that looked nice, even if it did take me an hour to slip back into the rhythm of it.
Once in class, our teacher began explaining the notion of plying yarn and I froze. I'd just come to terms, mostly, with spinning the stuff. I had to learn something new now?
For those not in the know (and I was one of those before today) plying is pretty much what it sounds like. You take two (or more) strands of spun yarn and twist them together to make yarn.
In short, I figured it out. Leigh is a very good teacher and I got it. Look. This is a finished skein of yarn. I can scarcely believe it.
We took it off the bobbin, wound it up on a niddy noddy (love the spinning terminology!), washed it and voila! So. Very. Cool.
Whether this mystifying, wonderful process continues much beyond the workshop remains to be seen. All the people in the comments talking about how great it is to knit with your own stuff did rather thrill me.
The fact is that I've been out of sorts this week and being challenged to try something new and not easy has been more than a little disconcerting. I cursed the whole notion more than once (and this is in no way a reflection on the workshop or our teacher). I could have bailed at any time but I paid good money for it and I knew I'd be letting myself down if I didn't go. I suppose the lesson here is that sometimes, a bit of a struggle is good for the soul, even if you are out of sorts and generally snarky.
In the meantime, there's some lace that's feeling a bit neglected. We need to spend some quality time together.
Bells
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