Making a Spinner

What makes a spinner? Is it the best wheel, the best fiber, the most skeins sitting in baskets, the most classes taken, or what? How about the best spinners? What lets them effortlessly produce miles of beautiful yarn, either perfectly even or beautifully textured?

Do you think obsessing about the details of spinning is silly, and just want to sit down and spin yard after yard of singles as meditation or just for fun? That’s fine if it’s what you want; it’s hard to beat spinning as fiber therapy. Like the other fiberarts, there’s room in spinning for everyone. But if you want to continue to grow and evolve your spinning, this may give you a starting place.

I’ve been thinking over what makes a good spinner lately. I’ve been mentoring a group of beginners, and another of intermediate spinners, and it’s making me take a good hard look at my own spinning, and recognize my strengths and shortcomings. I’ve also been looking back over my evolution as a spinner for hints as to how those shortcomings developed and how I might correct them.

I’m a largely self-taught spinner. I had some wonderful help getting started, but after that first lesson I was pretty much on my own from one guild meeting to the next. So I did a lot of strange, wacky things to get the yarn I wanted with the tools I had, and “re-invented the wheel” more than someone who had the time and money and place to go for weekly classes or a week-long workshop.

Does that make self-teaching the best alternative? No, not necessarily. Like your spinning style, your learning style is individual to you. Was it the best alternative for me? Probably. I was very short of money, but had plenty of time and local sources of good, yet inexpensive fiber. Add in the fact that I’ve always preferred to spin fine, and you’ll see that I could get quite a lot of yardage from a $5 pound of raw wool! I also like to puzzle out things with the aid of a book or video, and find another person quite distracting to the process. So learning on my own was best for me.

I do sometimes wish I’d had the luxury of taking classes in basic and intermediate spinning techniques – I might have progressed faster, and found it easier to spin large amounts of yarn to exactly the same grist. I can do that now, but a class might have made it easier and cost less in time and ‘wasted’ wool.

On the other hand, if you can only learn something by watching someone else do it and asking questions, by all means take a class or ten, rent or buy appropriate videos/DVD’s and plant yourself and your wheel in front of the screen, or watch all the members in turn at local guild meetings. If you want to learn, find the way YOU learn best and then do whatever it takes to get it into your head and fingers.

As for the best equipment - I noticed at my first regional fiber festival that many of what I considered the best spinners used simple equipment. Again, it depends on the person. I love gadgets, and have tried many, and re-sold most of them. I like very fine, worsted-spun yarns. So the drum carder, while a great learning experience for about six months, sat unused in a corner of my studio for the next two years until a spinner came along who wanted one. She likes to spin worsted-weight woolen yarns for sweaters, and loves this tool. I’m sure it’s happier being used regularly.

But even the right tools for the job may not be right for you. I now have two sets of wool combs, down from four. I love the fiber prep that I get from 4- and 5-pitch English combs, but my arms and hands hurt for days after I use them for even a half-hour. (What can I say - my body is aging faster than my mind.) So I do an extra transfer pass on the double-pitch Vikings or the hand-held Forsythe combs and comb pain-free. Sure it’s a trade-off – most of life is, I’ve noticed. This is one trade-off I can live with.

Other gadgets I use frequently are a set of Allen wrenches in sizes for my wheels, an oil-bottle with a long needle, a real flicker instead of a dog-brush, and a small metal dog-comb with a long shaped handle. Gadgets that are occasionally useful include a set of half-size cotton cards and a spinning lap-cover I made from two colors of duck cloth. One side is white; the other is a medium-value blue, and the cloth makes it easier to spin dark or light fibers even in artificial light.

I have copious amounts of illusion netting in a neutral color – not quite white, but almost. Why? To wash those fine fleeces I love easily and properly in bulk. Do I use it? Not very often. I prefer washing a lock at a time. That way I get to make sure each lock is squeaky-clean and get a bonus of being able to fondle the fiber a bit more.

But we’ve wandered afield. What makes a spinner the best? Not necessarily classes, although they can certainly help and should be taken whenever possible. Not necessarily gadgets, although some are useful and some essential, depending on what you want to spin. What about an expensive wheel? Pleeeeease!

I currently own 3 spinning wheels. None are Rolls-Royces or Cadallics, only one might be termed a Buick. All three, to my mind, are steady, reliable and adaptable basic Toyotas. The Ashford Traveller was my second wheel. I didn’t learn the basics on this wheel – I could make yarn after a fashion before I got it – but it was my learner wheel nonetheless. I learned to spin a variety of fibers on this wheel, and learned the basics of keeping a wheel and spinner happy with it. I seldom spin on it any longer, but my 17-year-old son loves this wheel and has appropriated it. He’s not an everyday spinner, but nonetheless likes spinning well enough to assess college dorms by whether they have room for the wheel or not.

My workhorse is my Majacraft Rose. I fell in lust with this wheel when I saw a picture of it. But I couldn’t afford it! I kept spinning on the Traveller, and finally saved enough pennies. At SAFF two years later I sat down at a Rose, pockets stuffed with fine fluff and ready to fall in love. Talk about disillusion - I hated the wheel! Hard to treadle, jerky action, all the worst possible attributes for a dedicated fine-yarn spinner. I’m sure my face presented a picture! I left SAFF that year with a Majacraft Suzie Pro. Same family, but not the wheel I thought I’d be bringing home!

Suzie was a nice little workhorse, and in many ways I became a good spinner on her, spinning many different fibers and grists. I never really loved her, though. She was a tool, but not a partner, if you see what I mean. I still loved the look of the Rose, but couldn’t get past my horrible test-spin. Then I visited another vendor in a town nearby and in conversation described my experience with the Rose. She was horrified, since the Rose was her favorite wheel. It didn’t take long to figure out what the problem must have been. In the chaos of setting up a booth, the SAFF vendor must have reversed the treadle shafts. When we did the same thing on her Rose, it behaved exactly as I remembered.

I left the shop that day without Suzie, and with a brand-new Rose. Yep, I had the Suzie and all her stuff in the van (I was in the neighboring town to do a demonstration), and we traded – my almost-new Suzie for a brand-new Rose (plus a hundred dollars or so). We put it together before I left, so I was sure it worked properly, and I spent almost as much again on fiber to keep my new Rosie happy. I didn’t even look at another wheel for several years after that. Rosie and I were happy, and we spun everything together. My first cashmere (almost drove me crazy until I learned how to spin it), my first gossamer two-ply for my first full-size shawl for my first grandchild, my first worsted-weight singles were spun on Rosie. I never thought about getting another wheel, although sometimes Rosie was a bit modern-looking for demonstrations.

Then, again at SAFF, I saw my first Kromski Polonaise. “Truly beautiful wheel – shame it’s a single-treadle” summed up my reaction. Then they introduced the Symphony. I stopped buying fiber and started saving for another wheel. Syndy (I know, but I name all my wheels) arrived one spring evening about six months later, and I stayed up until well after midnight putting her together and oohing and aahing over her. It’s a good thing it was a Friday evening, because there was no way I was going to work the next day! I played happily for the next several weeks, trying out and breaking in my new ‘toy’. She hasn’t replaced Rosie, but I do sometimes choose a special project just for her. And since she looks like an ‘old-time’ spinning wheel she’s great for public demonstrations!

The best spinner may not have the most expensive wheel, but she will have a wheel that suits the yarns she likes to spin and her own body. Spinning isn’t fun if it makes you hurt, and the wrong wheel will do exactly that. For example, I’ll never own a Schacht wheel. I love the look of it, the design is wonderful, I own a Schacht loom and other Schacht weaving equipment that I love. But after ten minutes on a Schacht wheel my back is screaming. I finally decided that the wheel just doesn’t fit my body.

I’ve gotten sidetracked again! Before we leave this subject, let me add something else. I belong to two spinning groups, one of which has a very large membership. Members own and use everything from CD drop spindles to Golding wheels. One of the best spinners in the group does everything on a Babe professional. And I’ve spun on it – it’s a good castle wheel, with a good range of ratios and large bobbins. She loves it because it travels easily – she’s spending her retirement traveling to all the places she always wanted to see. Tools are important, but the best spinner doesn’t necessarily have the most expensive wheel. More important than the money spent is getting the wheel best suited to your spinning and your body. An expensive wheel is no good if you hurt after ten minutes of spinning on it.

What about quantity of spinning? Is the best spinner the one who spins the most yardage? I can hear you thinking “Of course not!” And you’re right. Pounds and pounds of skeins of lumpy-bumpy yarn are great if that’s what you want to spin. But if that’s all you’re capable of spinning, well, that’s a bit different.

I love exploring new fibers. Give me a brand-new fiber and some time to play and I’m in heaven. But all my explorations weren’t helping me learn how to spin a consistent yarn. I had trouble with that. A spinner friend suggested a remedy. It definitely helped get me over that hump, and in the process I also acquired some discipline. Her suggestion? That I spin enough of only one fiber for a sweater for myself. It made sense, so I started shopping for the requirement and made my choice. That was 32 ounces of medium wool sport-weight singles. I should only need 24 ounces for a sweater, but best to have extra. I bought two pounds of commercially prepared top so that the fiber supply would be consistent, and started spinning. 24 ounces (6 bobbins) and three months later I put back the first bobbin for a felted hat and spun another 4 ounces so the yarn would match. Then I knitted the sweater and wear it proudly.

Practice is necessary for improving any skill, and this episode taught me that it should be directed practice – you should consciously start out to learn something from your spinning. If you’re using a new fiber, buy an ounce or two extra and play a bit. YOU might want to spin a certain fiber very fine and even as a two-ply, but it may have other ideas and want to be thick and thin singles. Learning not to fight the fiber is part of what makes a good spinner.

On the other hand, the most technically perfect spinner in the world with a wheel perfectly suited to her won’t be able to make more than barely adequate yarn with poor fiber. In my opinion, being able to recognize and choose top-quality fiber is one of the hallmarks of the best spinners.

How do you learn what constitutes top-quality? Some learn by raising their own fiber animals, some by listening to and learning from shepherds and exploring fleeces at fiber events. Some short-cut by purchasing only top-quality prepared fiber from reputable vendors; some buy prepared fiber to supplement what they raise or buy from local sources. All good spinners spin samples from a lock before buying a fleece – your fingers are the best judge of fiber quality, and they must be trained. Once trained, they’re your best tool for the job.

Equally important to good spinning is excellent fiber preparation. You can’t spin an even singles from fiber ‘prepared’ by washing roughly (thus half-felting it), then tearing it apart with a drum-carder or hand cards. Poor cleaning and preparation can ruin any fleece. On the other hand, truly excellent fiber preparation makes spinning easy and the newest spinner look good. The best spinners know that, and spend the effort it takes to prepare fiber perfectly! Properly prepared fiber almost spins itself.

Another hallmark of the best spinners is being able to suit the fiber to the project. The best spinners would never choose an adult Lincoln fleece with a 48 Bradford count for a baby layette. They’d go for merino, Rambouillet, Cormo or Targhee with a Bradford count in the 70’s. Socks would be made from Romney or other 54-56’s wool with perhaps a bit of mohair for strength; a gossamer shawl would be made from silk, Shetland or long-staple Sea Island cotton. Can a good spinner make exceptions to these basic guidelines? Of course. But she will let her fingers be her guide, and back them up with quite a bit of sampling before a final decision is made.

Sampling isn’t a four-letter word, so don’t shy away and treat it shabbily! Sampling is mindful exploration – play if you prefer - and the best spinners do quite a bit of it. It doesn’t require a great deal of time or fiber, and yields an incredible amount of information for that minimal investment. So rev up your adventuresome side and play for awhile!

Want to spin alpaca socks for yourself? Think about it, play with an ounce or so and use it to make a pair of baby socks. You’ll eventually need them for a gift even if you can’t use them immediately. Borrow a baby or especially petite child to try them on. Now observe. Do they appear to be comfortable? Too warm? Too slippery? Too prickly? Watch, don’t assume. Now take them off your borrowed child and hand him/her back to mother. Do the socks spring back into shape, either immediately or after washing? Yes, I know what conventional wisdom says. But what does your sample say? Is there a way to spin or knit that will compensate for any observed problems? Is doing that more trouble than the project is worth to you?

To sum up: when you can answer these questions and make these determinations you’re well on your way to becoming one of the best spinners:

1. Do you know how to choose really top-quality fiber?
2. Do you know how to prepare that fiber properly to obtain the yarn you want to spin?
3. Is your chosen spinning tool (spindle or wheel) well-chosen to fit what you want to spin and your own personal ergonomic profile?
4. Is your fiber choice suited to the project you’re making, and do you know how and why to make any necessary modifications to your spinning technique for that project?

Do you need to work on one or more of these criteria? (If you call spinning work – I call it fun.) How can you best learn what you need to know? Do you need a class, or more practice time, or more information about breeds of fiber animals? Should you attend a fiber festival where there will be lots of vendors in order to try out new tools? You’re the only one who can answer these questions. So get to it! Shearing season is coming up and there will be lots of new fleeces to evaluate and spin!

Lacy Koigu Socks

These socks were made on a whim. I ran across the yarn and fell in love with the colorway (I have a weakness for purple). So I stretched the budget to accommodate the purchase during September.

Then the weather began to turn cold. Suddenly I didn’t have nearly enough warm socks. Wear and a general lack of knitting time have brought my own personal sock collection down to an unacceptable 3 pairs. I decided I could take a break from the Christmas knitting to make a pair of socks; after all, I needed them!

I looked over the yarn as I wound it into center-pull balls with swift and ball-winder. Lovely stuff. Short color repeats, all in rich shades of purple, with occasional specks of white where the skeins were tied just a bit too tightly during the dyeing process. Lovely soft yarn, but firmly spun to make stitch definition excellent.

Time to try sampling for a fabric. Size 3 needles gave a nice vest fabric, but too flimsy for socks. Size 1’s were just right, yielding a fabric of 7 stitches per inch – firm but soft, especially after washing. A certain amount of bleeding was obvious when the sample was washed, but that isn’t unusual with deep color saturation. I don’t plan to mix any other yarn with this, and the socks will be hand-washed, so a little bleeding won’t matter.

The stitch choice process was next. A braided or cable rib might work – or the intricacies might just get lost in the colors. I sampled a braided rib and ripped it back out. It just looked lumpy. What about a lace rib? Sampled and frogged. I liked the holes, but not the ribbing. OK, a compromise is in order. Put ribbing at the top to hold up the socks, then after a couple of inches switch over to a lace design interspersed with purl stitches to create some grab. Dig through all my books to find a lace pattern of somewhere between 3 and 10 stitches that I like. Nothing. Maybe I missed something…leaf through the books again. Nope – nothing appealing.

All right, how hard can this be? It’s just holes, and I should be able to put them wherever I want, right? Right! OK, where’s the graph paper. A triangular pattern of holes with knit 2 togethers to maintain the stitch count. A plain row between each pattern row for simplicity in knitting. I don’t want the funky-looking yarn overs you get when you put them right next to a purl stitch. I do want “wings” coming up my leg from the ankle. Play with the pencil a bit…here, this should work!

Here is my very own “Triangle Sock Lace” pattern, shown as knitted in the round. Almost certainly an unvention, but I made it up myself, so I get to name it. You’re welcome to use it. Modification into an all-over pattern would be easy, either as an insertion or offset as a lace fabric, either with or without the purl stitches. With the purl stitches it’s a 9-stitch repeat; without them, it’s a 7-stitch repeat. To offset, you would probably make it a 12-stitch repeat, leaving out the purl stitches and the additional knit stitch between repeats.

+ + + + + + + - - Row6
+ o \ + \ o + - - Row 5
+ + + + + + + - - Row 4
+ + o v o + + - - Row 3
+ + + + + + + - - Row 2
+ + \ o + + + - - Row 1

Key:
+ is a knit stitch; - = purl; o = yarn over; \ = knit 2 together; v = slip 1, knit 2 together, psso (double decrease).

Blogger doesn't like tables, so the spacing in the stitch chart is a bit strange - but if you check closely you'll see that there are 9 stitches in each row. Of course, when knitting flat you would purl the even-numbered rows, knitting the back side of the purl stitches. But doesn’t it look nice in the round? The pattern yarn-overs make nicely-defined holes at the 7 stitches per inch stockinette gauge of the Koigu yarn, and don’t get lost in the color changes. The purl stitches help the socks hug the leg and foot nicely, and I continued the pattern down the top of the foot, as you can see.

By the way, for you new knitters out there: the lace pattern changes the gauge. Over stockinette with size 1 needles the gauge is, as stated above, 7 stitches per inch. A 9-stitch repeat over the pattern, however, measures 1.5 inches, or 6 stitches per inch. So instead of casting on 56 or 60 stitches, I cast on 52, increasing to 54 stitches on the first round after the ribbing. The socks fit perfectly. Did I do another sample to test this? Of course I did! But I frogged it back out in order to have the extra yarn, so I can’t show it to you.

I’ll watch these socks carefully, though. At a gauge of 6 stitches per inch over the pattern they may not wear as well as I would like. But they’re pretty, warm, and only took a week away from my Christmas knitting.