Catching-up - notes on sweater fitting and tools

I’ve been quiet lately – working on a sweater which I’ve now finally finished and a photo of which is below – and thinking about some things which have been passing through on the lists. This is the time of year when my creative flow usually takes a hike to make room for the yard and garden and spring cleaning. DH is taking care of the yard, and the housework took second place to some dyeing this weekend. So I’m still in full fiber mode, and spinning like crazy.

Part of what I’m spinning is sock yarn (naturally), and I’m also working on a couple of fleeces from stash. One is a Romney cross from this year’s shearing, and one a Suffolk from last year. I’ve got to dye and spin some yarn for a baby sweater, too – mustn’t forget that! If it sounds as though I’m wallowing in fleece, it’s because I am!



The sweater came out as a perfect fit. I did a ton of research and ripped often, but this sweater fits! For those who don’t understand the problem, let me explain. I’m five-foot nothing, 160 pounds, and hourglass- (although generously) figured. With a 46-inch bust and hips, 35-inch waist, and 15.5-inch shoulders, getting that perfect fit takes some doing! I finally resorted to several books (Priscilla Gibson-Roberts’ Knitting in the Old Way, Maggie Righetti’s Sweater Design in Plain English, and the Knitty.com article from the summer 2003 edition titled, La bonne tricoteuse – summer knitting and short rows). I also took a look at almost every other knitting book I own. Then I fired up Sweater Wizard and went into full-tweak mode. I found a lovely helper at The Knitting Fiend (http://www.thedietdiary.com/knittingfiend/OrderForms/BustDarts.html) which confirmed my math on the needed bust darts. I added those figures to the exported Word document I got from my tweaking of Sweater Wizard, and started knitting.

I finished up the sweater and wore it. Then I discovered the problems. Too short-waisted, and the neckline wasn’t high enough – I don’t want a ballet-necked wool sweater in winter – and the bottom ribbing was too big by at least 4 inches. On the plus side, the bust and armholes and shoulders were perfect and the sleeves fit, well, to perfection! I grit my teeth and started picking up, then ripping. I picked up the bottom just before the first row of the pattern and knit three inches of stockinette. It worked because of the general sweater design. Then I decreased 20 percent of the total number of stitches instead of 10 percent and re-knit the ribbing. Tried on the sweater, and it now was long enough and the ribbing fit snugly. Time for the neckline. I tried picking up the stitches, but got lost in the shoulder seams and had to graft. So then I simply gathered my courage, picked up the scissors, and cut off the neckline ribbing. I crocheted around the raw edge, picked up in the row below that, and re-knit the neckline – this time 2.5-inches long rather than 1 inch. I washed the sweater again, and will carefully store it for the fall, since now it’s much too warm to wear it (87 degrees on Easter Sunday)!


On another topic: There have been many discussions lately about knitting and spinning tools. Not just the usual types of needle and ‘what spinning wheel should I buy’ things, but questions about other fiber tools. Since I’m far from shy about expressing my opinions, I’d like to chime in here with the choices I’ve made and why I’ve made them.

First, knitting needles. First, I have nothing against metal needles as such. They’re perfectly good tools. But I don’t like to use them because they make my admittedly-aging hands ache. I have a touch of arthritis already, and am a firm convert to the ‘use it or loose it’ school of thought. So I try to use my hands a lot. My job helps, but so do the spinning and knitting and cooking I enjoy.

But wood, bamboo or plastic needles require some care. Plastic will nick and crack, and you have to watch for that. So my preferred needles are bamboo or wood. I have multiple sets of Brittany double point needles in various sizes for socks and sweater sleeves, and love them. I also own and love my Crystal Palace bamboo needles. I store all my needles in a fairly large plastic pencil case that I picked up several years ago at a back-to-school sale for a dollar. Each size has a small plastic sleeve or a small cloth sleeve if the plastic one has disappeared. Every year or so I open up the case, take each set from it’s sleeve, and lay it out on the dining room table. I have a can of paste wax handy, along with a couple of clean cotton cloths. Each needle is waxed and buffed. Needles that seem to be developing cracks are soaked in either olive oil or lemon oil prior to waxing. Needles that are currently being used in a project are removed and added to the table. It takes a couple of hours, yes, but I’m still using some of the same needles I bought more than a decade ago, and some that are more than 50 years old that I’ve inherited from various sources. A couple of hours on a rainy Saturday morning twice a year is much cheaper than buying all-new needles!

What about other tools? Knitting markers, for example, which are so easy to lose. I keep them in small envelopes, as well, sorted by color. If I can’t find the plastic envelopes in which they are purchased, I pick up a couple of fishing tackle envelopes – they’re sturdy and perfect for storing small things. They don’t require a lot of care, but the ones that look like safety pins will last longer if you open them up before storing them. Measuring tapes should be stored loosely gathered or rolled. The plastic tapes we have now say they won’t stretch. But if you leave one in a car on a summer day you’ll find that they will. Cloth tapes will also stretch with use. The only remedy for this is to replace the tapes every few years. Wait for a half-off sale at your local fabric store and stock up. I usually purchase a half-dozen tapes in every odd-numbered year.

Another useful tool is a stitch and needle gauge. If you’re lucky, you’ll find one that has three-inch windows and ¼-mm needle-gauge increments. If you do discover one of these, buy it – even if you have to put back a skein of yarn! The typical gauges have gauge holes for only US needle sizes (no help for several commonly-used mm-sized needles) and two-inch windows. Once you have it, take care to keep it unbent, untwisted, and handy. Mine is attached to a key-ring pull that is attached to my knitting bag. Between uses it resides in it’s own little pocket on the side of the bag.

Blocking tools also require care. If you own a wooden sweater blocker or sock blockers, make sure you care for them as I’ve outlined for the wooden and bamboo needles. Give these tools at least 24 hours curing time after waxing before use!

Now let’s talk about spinning tools. Your spinning wheel was a major investment. If it’s wood, you need to care for that wood properly in order for the wheel to continue to operate properly. Check your owner’s manual. Some wheels require only dusting, some require oiling or other periodic care.

Many of our spinning tools are wood. Cards and combs, for example, require oiling and polishing of the wood components, and cleaning of the metal parts. Carding cloth can be cleaned with a stiff brush (do this outside!) or by carding some completely clean, fairly long fleece. Combs can also be cleaned by using them for clean fleece, but I’ve had good results with alcohol-soaked cotton, as well, taking care to avoid the wood. The best thing to do is clean cards or combs every time you use them. Oiling and waxing the wood parts can be done a couple of times each year.

Hand-cranked drum carders also require care. If yours has a wooden base, care for it appropriately. Clean the licker-in and carding drum as recommended in your owner instructions. Oil where appropriate, change o-rings as recommended. Loosen any rubber/plastic parts when not in use. Making a rule of using only clean fiber will make this expensive tool last longer.

Spindles are frequently wood. These tools develop a lovely patina with use, both from the fiber and from our hands. But they still benefit from an oiling and waxing every six months or so to keep the wood healthy and nourished.

I’ve thrown around the words “oil and wax” quite a bit in the above paragraphs. Before you ask, I use plain old-fashioned paste wax if I can find it. The couple of times I haven’t been able to do so, I’ve used a good furniture wax with a beeswax-based formula. For oiling I like to use extra-virgin olive oil (cheaper) or lemon oil (more expensive). The olive oil will sometimes impart a slightly greenish tint to the wood, but it works well. I pour a good bit into a casserole dish and soak needles and other small tools for a while, then remove them, buff and allow to dry, then wax. Lemon oil is wonderful, but 100% lemon oil is expensive. If you do find a bargain that doesn’t contain alcohol, grab it. Orange oil will also work well.

There are a couple of combination products out there – Howard’s Feed n Wax is good, and will eliminate the oiling step. 16 ounces goes a long way and costs less than $10 U.S. It also works wonders on household woodwork.

We don’t think of our tools as particularly expensive unless we have a collection of rare-wood specialty items. We’ve usually purchased them over a long period of time, and $12 here and there doesn’t make that big a dent in the budget. But take a look around. If you had a fire, what would it cost to replace those tools at today’s prices? $1,000? $5,000? $10,000? Add it up. When you’ve recovered, you might want to take a look at your homeowner’s policy and see if you need a rider. If you do, don’t hesitate – call your agent! Then gather all your tools in one place with oil and wax at hand and protect your investment!

Historical Spinning

I’ve talked before about “historical knitting” – now let’s shift the focus a bit to “historical spinning,” or some of the ways spinning has changed in Appalachia in the last 100 years.

My grandmother, shortly before her death, saw some of my earliest alpaca/silk blend handspun. She was astonished at the softness, shine and clarity of color. One of the comments she made was “I wish Mother could have felt this!”

I pursued the comment just a bit, but Grandma was weak, and had little to say except that the sheep’s wool spun during her young years by her mother was prickly and rather harsh. The finest stuff was from the neck area of the sheep, and even that was rather stiff. Her final comment was that her girlhood socks always made her legs itch.

I’ve done a bit of back-tracking, collecting recollections and reminiscences from relatives and neighbors, trying to find out what sort of sheep Great-Grandma was most likely to have had access to as a spinner. The best guess to date is a cross of Shropshire and Shetland or Romney. These sheep did fairly well as wool producers and lambs provided a helpful dose of protein for the diet of hill farmers and coal miners. The wool would have probably been a medium type, with a Bradford count in the 50s, especially given the diet of scrub brush and hill grass available in that place and time. So Grandma probably did have scratchy socks!

I’ve seen bits and pieces of the various fabrics made from this wool; as quilt pieces and scrap bits of hand-woven, and bits of the wool as quilt batting. I’ve marveled at the fineness of the singles, noticing that the normal weaving sett appears to be 30-36 ends per inch. That translates into a single of about 60-70 wraps per inch! Remarkable indeed for a medium fleece. That same fleece would have been used for knitting yarns, of course, after plying.

There was little variation in materials for spinning in the Appalachia of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Local wool and your portion of a bale of cotton purchased every year or two was interspersed with local flax. Those lucky enough to have ‘bottom’ land could trade their extra flax and wool to neighbors or perhaps a local store; others had to make do with what they could raise on the scrubby, sometimes slag-poisoned hillsides behind their cabins.

Spinning wheels were primitive by our standards; hand-made, single-treadle, with hand-carved flyers and a few bobbins of variable balance and size. Flyer hooks were bent nails salvaged from other projects – metal was expensive. Orifices and axles might be salvaged metal, but were just as likely to be wood wedged firmly into leather bearings greased with lard. Treadle tie-ups were sometimes leather strips, most times string. Wheels were noisy, too; conversations while spinning were likely to be shouted over the squeak and squeal of wood against wood. The sophistication of the spinner’s wheel was completely dependent upon the woodworking and metalworking skills of her husband, father or brother. Those with the skill to make ‘good’ spinning wheels, looms and quilting frames were likely to have a profitable sideline to their miner’s paycheck if they could come up with the energy to make tools after a 12- to 16-hour day in the mines. But even then the most profitable trading items would have been plows, harnesses, shingles and buckets.

“Profitable” is a relative term, of course. Cash money was rare in that time and place. Miners were paid in scrip redeemable only at the company store, where prices were high. “Tradin” is the term my great-grandparents and grandparents used for shopping, and is a better term for the actual exchange of goods in that place and time. That type of bartering is now used mostly between craftspeople; little exchange of services and tools is “traded” in the day-to-day scheme of modern living. This has little to do with historical spinning except as background material, of course.

One of the main reasons women like my great-grandmother could spin 60-70 wpi singles from medium wool was that they were expert spinners of that type of wool. Remember the types of fiber available? Cotton was imported from further south, with a 500-pound bale divided up among an entire community. It was precious and expensive, and so saved for ‘special’. Linen was a local crop, dependent upon rains and the disinterest of insects. It was also labor-intensive, requiring time-consuming processing before spinning. Wool was the most readily-available fiber, coming from your own sheep or bartered for locally. In any case, you probably spun the same type of wool year in and year out for your entire lifetime.

Wheels were more specific-purpose than those we use now, having at most two ratios – about 7:1 for wool and linen and 12:1 for cotton. Most had only a single ratio, and the spinner adjusted her spinning to suit. Spinning was an integral part of the daily chores, and the less time spent on each yard the more time available for weaving, cooking, canning and cleaning. High-twist yarns were made, but only for warps and high-wear applications like socks. Those high-twist yarns were carefully segregated from the weft and general knitting yarns, which were lower-twist yarns, normally from lower-quality parts of the fleece.

Oh, and before you ask, I’ll answer the question of whether drop spindles were part of life in Appalachia. My grandmother laughed the first time she saw me use a drop spindle, a year or so in advance of the conversation related earlier. “I haven’t seen one of those since I was a girl!” was her comment. “How good are you with it?” I showed her what I was spinning, and she wasn’t impressed – just surprised that I was using that particular tool. When I laid my top-whorl spindle on the table to reach for the coffee cup, she picked it up and immediately spun a few yards that exactly matched the lace-weight singles I had begun. “You know, when I was little I used to be sure this was magic,” she commented. “Then I learned to do it!”

I was a bit surprised, since I’d never seen my grandmother spin at all, let alone on a spindle! And magic was a word I don’t recall her ever using before – miracle, yes, magic, no! Further conversation revealed that drop spindles were made for all the children at about age 5, just as wooden knitting needles were whittled for all the girls (and some of the boys) at about the age of 6. Once you were a proficient spinner, you could take your turn on the family wheel, but the spindle and a bit of fleece (or a bit of knitting) was almost always tucked into an apron pocket for odd moments. Obviously it isn’t a knack you forget, since my grandmother estimated that it had been about 60 years since she had picked up a spindle. Hers had been carved from apple wood, she said, and was a bottom-whorl with a notch at the top. “Did you keep it?” I asked, anxious to know if this relic of her childhood had survived. “Goodness, no,” she replied. “It’s been gone a long time!” My face must have fallen, because she next said, “Your uncles could probably make you one, if you asked. Or you could whittle it yourself.” Of course I could – although I probably won’t. I would, however, love to have had the tool she used as a child!

Between 1860 and 1920, metal tools were expensive, but a considerable portion of the yearly family income went toward maintenance and any necessary replacements. Clothing was as necessary as shelter and food, and equally home-made. Metal spinning wheel axles and bobbin shafts, metal-teethed cards, and metal pins, needles and knitting needles, among other things, were frequently gifts for very special life occasions like marriage or perhaps graduation (education wasn’t easy to come by and took considerable effort). Those tools were scrupulously maintained. Rust on a needle was a sure sign of a slipshod personality, and as unacceptable in that society as rust on a plow. I’ll always remember my grandfather’s scathing denouncement of a proposed daughter-in-law, “You can’t marry her - she don’t even know how to use the emery bud on a pincushion!” It was the ultimate dismissal.

Dyes were another luxury item. Many dyes were obtained from natural stuff, of course, and the Appalachian Mountains abound in patches of madder and other non-native dye plants planted around old cabin sites. Synthetic dyes were available by 1900, but equally important (and less expensive) were indigo cakes. I still saw them in the country stores in northeast Tennessee when I was a child in the 1950’s and 60’s.

It’s hard now to realize, but dyes were important indicators of wealth and influence. I’ve heard stories all my life about the crimson wool wedding dress worn by a great-grandmother, and how her husband-to-be had sent for the ground cochineal used to dye the wool from his father’s relatives on an Indian reservation in the Southwest. Now those stories draw little attention from my children and grandchildren – we’ve come too far from those rural roots where independence and self-sufficiency were the measure of a family’s worth.

Modern spinners don’t concentrate on a few specific types of fiber to the degree of our ancestors. We’re by and large hobbyist spinners, producing yarn for our own or a limited number of consumers’ use. We can choose fibers from all over the world, in mixtures that would astonish my great-grandmother. The average spinner in a so-called developed country spins fibers every day that were unobtainable luxury even three decades ago – well within our adult life spans.

Our wheels are works of art and engineering, and almost as multiple-purpose as our kitchen appliances. We can spin cotton, flax, wool, alpaca, yak and cashmere on the same wheel, moving a drive band from whorl to whorl to adjust the ratio.

Dyes can be synthetic, natural, or concentrated crystals in several preparations. They’re easy to use; mordants are either unnecessary or available in easy to use forms from the same vendors from whom we purchase the dyes, and the resulting colors are light- and wash-fast.

It is no longer necessary to spin every inch of yarn or thread for every inch of fabric we use each day. So we get less spinning practice than did our forbearers. We have more articles of clothing than anyone except the very wealthy did even a hundred years ago, and spend a considerably smaller proportion of our income to obtain those clothes. So spinning is now a hobby, not a necessity.

Are we therefore less-accomplished spinners than were our ancestors? Yes and no. We tend to be more comfortable with multiple fiber staples, and spin our wealth of fibers into various weights and in various blends for specialized purposes. We seldom concentrate on one or two fibers to the exclusion of any others. This means that we lose the ability to ‘make-do’ with fibers that may not be perfectly suited to our end use. But to my mind, the wide-ranging fiber education we receive balances the scales nicely. We may not be more practiced spinners than our great-grandmothers, but we’re definitely better-educated ones!

We have, as a society, more disposable income than at any time during human history. We treasure our leisure time as an opportunity to pursue our avocations. We tend to spend “extra” money on those same avocations, whether spinning or trout-fishing. Combine those facts with the rapid transit and better communication of 2006, and you can see that the fiber explosion of the past fifteen years or so was inevitable. Spinners, knitters, quilters and other fiber artists both amateur and professional are taking full advantage of this wealth of materials. I am no different from the rest, enjoying the time invested in learning basic techniques of spinning new-to-me fibers like yak, buffalo down, ingeo and tencel.

Eventually, I predict that the pendulum will swing back the other way, and spinners will ‘specialize’ in certain fibers – in fact, some are already doing so. But whatever our individual choice in the matter, we should remember that we live in a time where spinning is a choice, not a necessity, and thus comes under the heading of luxury. Nobody must spin these days in order to clothe a family. We choose to spin for a multitude of reasons. The fact that spinning is now a choice is what moves it from the category of necessity to luxury.

I can’t help but wonder if spinning historians in the future will look at our current exploration of many different fibers as a sort of aberration, unable to fathom why we rush to try every new fiber available. I can hear my own grandchild asking, thirty or forty years from now, “But why didn’t you concentrate on the sheep’s wool, alpaca and llama that were all around you instead of buying exotic fiber from someplace on the other side of the world?” Or perhaps, with advances in cheap transportation, the question will be slightly different – “Why did you have to buy the fiber from a vendor across the country? Why not just go to Tibet (Australia, Indonesia, South America) and buy it directly from the grower?”

The only unchanged thing in the conversation will be the tools we’re both using while we talk – the spinning wheel and the drop spindle will still be the way we soothe our minds and busy our fingers. The quiet click of knitting needles or tatting shuttles will still accompany our evening rituals. Fiber will still be available to spin, and spinners will still exist. Because there is no substitute for the magic of watching fibers slip through your fingers to become yarn. It mimics creation itself, this yarn spun from the ethereal gossamer web of fiber and air. True magic will always be part of humanity, and spinning is absolutely true magic.

A knitting update and a rumination on passing 50

This is another EZ Baby Surprise Jacket, done in Kansas City Chiefs colors for the new baby of a fan. I actually work with both parents - Mom and Dad! Aren’t the colors pretty?

Yarn was KnitPicks Merino Style, needles size 3 bamboo circulars, gauge 5 stitches per inch. The buttons are cute - little balloons! The cener one is actually red, although it doesn't show up too much in the photo.

I did enjoy doing this pattern, and even enjoyed it the second time around - unlike my usual "do it once and never again" style! But I'm really looking forward to getting back to some spinning. I'm in the mood to make some more socks - this time from handspun silk/Romney blended together and hand-dyed.

On the knitting front, I think I'm going to make myself a sweater. I decided to frog the Pi shawl - it wasn't turning out to be an enjoyable, engaging project. I may pick up another variation again some day, or come up with a project I like better for the yarn. For now I'm determined to finish up a sweater that I'll actually wear and enjoy. It's time to conquer my remaining fitting demons!

I think firmly turning the corner into my fifties is helping me concentrate. I'm not as worried about completing something just because I started it. If I don't enjoy the process, and am not learning anything from it, I don't seem to feel that it's necessary to finish it. Learning new skills, refining older ones, and enjoying how I spend my time, both at work and at home, is more important to me now. I'm becoming better and better at saying "No," and I no longer feel guilty for doing so. "You really ought to..." and "Don't you think you should..." are my publically-acknowledged least-favorite phrases at long last, and it's wonderfully freeing!

There's something to be said for a little bit of age - if nothing else, you learn to value yourself and to value your time. You also start to realize that you only have so much time remaining. I think that this sense of my own value is the truest sign that I've finally, truly grown up. It's kind of a shame I didn't realize this 20 years ago - but I've still got plenty of years ahead, and I plan to enjoy them! Watch out, world - I'm over fifty, feisty and a certified fiberholic!

Baby sweaters!

I’ve been working on a baby outfit or two recently. The first shower was last week, and I can now ‘publish’ my work for it without spoiling the surprise. The second installment will come later this month. The picture of the finished cap, socks and sweater is below:




The fiber was Finn top, combed from a fleece purchased I don’t remember when from I don’t remember who. I spun a fingering-weight two-ply on the 9:1 ratio of my Rose, plying for a balanced yarn. The yarn was wonderful – lofty and soft, as Finn should be. The cap was a simple ribbed-edging cap, with decreases at the top. Socks were made from a pattern that the mother-to-be had found somewhere on-line. There’s a story behind them. Momma was one of my knitting students this fall. Our second class project was socks. She wanted to make socks for the baby, but zoned out during the obligatory gauge lecture and didn’t read the material in the hand-out. All experienced knitters know where this is going! Momma does, however, have lovely worsted-weight mohair-blend socklets for the labor and delivery rooms that fit her perfectly!

The sweater will also be readily recognized as Elizabeth Zimmerman’s Baby Surprise Jacket. I hadn’t made this pattern in years, and had forgotten just how much fun it is to knit. I got something of a surprise while working on this one. I had hauled it along to work one day, and on the way home stopped to help out with a church supper. One of the older widowers in the group waxed quite nostalgic about the pattern, recognizing it immediately upon seeing it. His wife, who was a good friend of my mother’s, was a prolific knitter who had made the sweater many times for the babies in a large family. He was delighted to see that it was still being made!

Knitting makes so many people who don’t even knit happy!

Frog-Hair and Hamster Floss

I love to spin, and prefer to spin fine. Show me or allow me to purchase a very fine Shetland, Merino, or merino cross fleece and my mind happily explores the possibilities while my fingers are busily at work seeing just how fine I can spin this particular fleece. I bought my current spinning wheels based largely on their ability to spin very fine yarns in a wide variety of fibers. I’ve even been known to forsake my wheels entirely in order to spin the very finest of yarns on light-weight spindles.

Why do I have this fascination with fine spinning? Possibly it’s tied together with my love of lace; the most ethereal of knitted laces are made with gossamer yarns that are little thicker than 6 to 8 fibers twisted together into two plies. Maybe I just like the attention it garners at public demonstrations and from other spinners. I don’t know why I enjoy it so much, but I do.

Every spinner is different. We bring different experiences, expectations, tools and physical limitations to our yarn production. I’m not going to take photos or videos of my own spinning method and try to tell you that this is the only (or even the best) way to produce gossamer yarns. I am going to tell you the various steps I go through and the equipment I use to do so. But your methods will almost certainly differ in several particulars. That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you like the yarn you’re making, and find it suitable for your purposes. Modern individuals seem to expect a ‘recipe’ approach, and I don’t really do ‘recipes’ for spinning any more than I do for knitting, weaving, or cooking. Still I hope interested spinners will locate these notes, find them somewhat useful, and explore the possibilities further.

First and foremost, choose a fine, sound fleece. No mid-range fleeces (Lincoln lamb, Romney crosses and Wensleydale all have their uses, but in my opinion this isn’t one of them), and no weak spots or sun-bleached tips. Shetland lamb fleece, fine merino or merino crosses like Rambouillet or Targhee, fine Finn…you get the idea. You’ll spend a bit more for these fleeces, and they’ll be worth every penny. If you can find them in combed top from commercial sources, go for it – you’ll pay around $8.00 per ounce, but you can get a 60-inch square shawl from 4-6 ounces of top.

My current fine-spinning champ is a Shetland lamb fleece from a shepherd in Ohio. Staple length is between 4 and 5 inches, fineness is between 13 and 15 microns, crimp is moderate. Unfortunately the sheep wasn’t coated and I lost way too much of this beautiful fleece to burrs and hayseed contamination, but what’s left is lovely. On a 15-gram drop spindle my singles are in the 95 wpi range. On the wheel, the best I can manage is 75-80 wpi singles.

I can hear the next question – how do I prep a fleece for this sort of fine spinning? If you want the finest yarn you have to choose the finest portions of the fleece. That takes going over a fleece almost lock-by-lock. So my first step is to move outdoors and spread the fleece out on an old sheet on an overcast day. I have a deck that’s ideal for this, since the breezes are blocked by the house itself, built-in seating and almost-solid side panels.

I use two sheets and a small laundry basket. Sitting between them, I take a handful of fleece from the skirted fleece and pick through it. Average locks go onto the second sheet; really fine locks go into the basket. If you’ve laid out the fleece in such a way that you can discern the various parts like neck, saddle, back, belly and legs it will go faster. Unfortunately, this isn’t always easy to do, and you will frequently have to simply try your best to get the entire fleece laid out in a single layer. Either way, start at one end of the fleece and work your way through. Take your time. This can easily and pleasantly consume an entire afternoon, so ship the husband and children off for that length of time – they can go fishing or play in the park.

Once you’ve separated the fleece, keep it that way. Store the ‘average’ portion (which may be pretty fantastic, but isn’t the absolute tip-top portion of the fleece) in your favorite container, either washed or in the grease. Take appropriate measures for moth and critter control. Then move on to your basket containing the best of this fleece. You’ll be surprised at how little wool you have in there – if there’s more than 6-8 ounces you have a truly spectacular fleece!

You can, of course, comb or flick the contents of the basket and spin at this point. I don’t really care for spinning in the grease, and find spinning this sort of relatively high-twist yarn in the grease makes it quite difficult to get the resulting yarn clean. But it’s your choice.

If you choose to clean the fleece before spinning, you’ll want to do so in a way that keeps the lock structure as intact as possible. There are two really good possibilities. Many spinners favor laying the locks out on a strip of netting or illusion about 18 inches wide and 36 inches long, folding the netting over the locks to form a sandwich, and running either a line of basting stitches or safety pins through the layers to keep the locks intact. Others roll the netting sandwich, fasten with a rubber band or string, and then wash. I’ve tried both, and had problems with getting the fleece completely clean. That may have more to do with my rather hard water than any failing in the method, since friends with soft water get perfectly good results.

The second way is to do it by hand, lock by lock, and this is my preferred method. The locks are perfectly clean and well-preserved. I set up an assembly line, starting with two large pasta pots of water brought to a boil on the stove. On the counter are the basket of fleece, three dishpans (or one dishpan and the double sink) and a large towel or three at the far end. Laundry detergent is close at hand, along with a candy thermometer and thick rubber gloves.

Put 3-4 inches of the hottest water you can get from the tap into the first container. Mix in enough detergent to make the water feel slippery (I use about 1 cup of liquid detergent). Now add boiling water from the stove until the water temperature is between 160 and 180 degrees on the candy thermometer. Make up the other two containers with water of the same temperature, but without detergent. Now start more water on the stove – you’ll probably need it to replenish as you go along. In order to clean fleece well the main thing necessary is HOT water. So keep it at least 160 degrees.

Put on the gloves and pick up the first lock. Lay it in the dishpan of soapy water. Don’t let it drift apart as it gets wet, though – you want to swish it through the water just enough so that the lock gets clean, but not so much that it begins to felt. Now remove it from the soapy water and do the same thing in each of the rinse containers. Lay the lock on the towel to begin to dry, go back and do the same thing again with the next lock.

Sound tedious? It can be if you’re working on a surface of the wrong height, but as long as your ‘washing station’ is set up properly it isn’t too bad. And when finished you have rows of beautifully clean locks on the towels. I place the towels in the basement on a drying rack made from an old window screen laid across sawhorses with the locks still on them – everything is dry by the next day. Then I pick up each lock and put it back into the cleaned basket, ready for spinning.

While the clean locks are drying is a good time to go over your tools. If you plan on flick-carding (and that’s the best way I’ve found to spin frog-hair), make sure your flicker or dog comb is at hand and clean. Find or make a lap cloth that’s thick enough to withstand the flicking and protect your leg. I use a tripled piece of heavy cotton-twill cloth – one side white, one side medium blue, and an extra layer in the middle – that’s about a yard square. Edges are serged together and corners are rounded. So far it’s worked well, especially if I wear denim or some other heavy twill skirt or jeans. A piece of leather will also work well.

Is this necessary? Perhaps not – but the one time I tried flicking locks without any protection between the flicker and my leg I got a very interesting pattern of puncture wounds and a tetanus shot. It served me right for agreeing at the last minute to do a public demonstration on a just-sheared grease fleece from a local flock.

If you’re spindle-spinning, try out your spindle and do any tweaking necessary. If you’re using a wheel, this is the perfect time for a tune-up. Check all the nuts, bolts and screws and make sure they’re tight. Check the alignment of the drive wheel and whorl – is your drive band traveling in a straight line? Clean the wheel well, polish any finished wood parts, and be sure you lubricate any place necessary – don’t forget the bar that supports your treadles. If you use leather, lubricate that and tighten any leather ties.

Check your tensioning system to be sure it is working well. On double-drive wheels you’ll want to change over to a fine, smooth linen or cotton drive band. Try them out until you find something that will just turn everything smoothly. This seems silly, perhaps, but it will help. Thick drive bands can sometimes be a little too grabby for spinning really fine yarns, breaking the yarn frequently. I’ve had the best luck with size 10 or 20 crochet cotton. I’ve occasionally had to use beeswax on the drive bands, but not very often; first try it without.

On Scotch-tension wheels, try to get the lightest spring available. You don’t want something stiff enough to pull on bulky-weight singles. Check on your wheel manufacturer’s website, or in the hardware section of your local home center. You want something made from fine-gauge wire with about 1/16 inch between each wrap. That will give you the absolute minimum tension on the take-up band. Change your brake band to something very light and fine. I use braided fishing line in a 30-pound test size, and have never had a problem. I change it out every couple of years when it becomes frayed. If your tensioning knob is loose, wrap a bit of fiber around the portion that goes into the mother-of-all or the table to provide some grab, or rough up the surface a bit with a wood or nail file. But be careful with this - you don’t want to overdo it! What you’re after is fine control, not a tensioning knob that no longer fits the hole drilled for it!

Fine yarns have less tensile strength because they have fewer fibers. You need to compensate for that. A large-core lace bobbin puts less strain on fine threads, and a lace flyer orifice is smaller in diameter so that the threads vibrate less as they go through. If you don’t have a lace flyer and bobbin, try some of the following hints:

To make a temporary lace bobbin, pick up some pipe insulation at the hardware store. Cut a length that will fit tightly over the core of your bobbin, snuggling up nicely to the ends. Before you slip it into place, tie a long leader of size 20 crochet cotton around the core. Now slip the pipe insulation over the bobbin core, bringing your leader out through the slit in the insulation. You now have a perfect lace bobbin for an investment of a couple of dollars.

If you have a delta orifice wheel, don’t despair. In my experience Delta orifices actually aren’t too bad for lace yarns. You may need to make no adjustments at all. However, if you start to spin, the yarn snaps every yard or so and you’re using a delta orifice, suspicion is recommended. Look over the wheel again – get another spinner to check it if possible. Adjust take-up, drive bands, etc. and try again. Still having trouble? Check with your wheel manufacturer or a good spinning wheel replacement parts person – you may indeed need a lace flyer in order to spin really fine yarns on that wheel.

Different wheels have different bobbin tensioning systems. I’m particularly thinking about the Louet wheels, but there are almost certainly others out there with a very strong take-up. I don’t own one of them, so all I can advise is to ask questions on the TechSpin list or talk to your dealer. I have seen various hints and tips, but didn’t pay a great deal of attention since they didn’t apply to me. In case you’re wondering, I currently own an Ashford Traveller, a Majacraft Rose and a Kromski Symphony. All are scotch tension or convertible wheels with a double treadle because I like that setup. But that doesn’t mean you have to have one of those wheels to spin gossamer yarn! You can spin fine yarns with any wheel as long as you’re willing to tinker a little and learn how to tweak your own wheel to get the results you want.

Now that your wheel is tuned-up and ready to go, let’s talk about your spinning chair. It should fit not only your body when sitting, but also when spinning. I can’t use a chair with arms, for example – they get in my way. But I do need a chair that’s height-adjustable – all three of my wheels have different-height orifices and ‘live’ on different surfaces, and that means that I do better if I can tweak my seat height. Could I purchase a different chair for each wheel? Yes, but I didn’t. Instead I bought a well-cushioned task chair with excellent, adjustable lumbar support and adjustable seat height and tilt. I move it to whichever wheel I want to use right then.

Be sure to pay attention to the ergonomics of your spinning. When treadling, your knees should remain at 90 degrees to your body. Arm motions should be fluid and as centered as possible. Try to avoid shifting from one hip to another or twisting your spine and you’ll spin with less effort and no backache. Sit comfortably, and don’t forget to get up and move around every 20-30 minutes. I actually set a timer, or make myself get up during commercials if I’m watching TV while spinning.

All right, all the equipment is ready and your locks are dry. Sit in your spinning chair, placing your fiber on one side of your chair (the same side as that of the hand in which you hold your fiber). Put the cover on your lap, pick up your comb or flicker, and get ready to spin some lace-weight yarn.

Grasp a lock of wool at one end – either one. It doesn’t matter too much if you use a dog comb or a flicker. If you’re using a comb, pretend you’re working on a small child’s hair – use smooth movements, starting at the tip and working up to the center of the lock. If using a flicker, don’t brush from lock center to tip – tap the flicker gently with only the slightest of downward strokes, again working from the tips toward the center of the lock. Working this way will break off any brittle tips, work out any tangles, and give you beautifully- aligned fibers.

When the lock is perfectly open, switch ends and do the same from the other end of the lock. I prepare a single lock at a time, spinning immediately after I flick each lock. If you prefer to flick several, that’s fine – stack them on a small table or your lap. But try not to flick more than you’ll spin in a half-hour. They’ll just get disarranged and require flicking again.

You want open, perfectly-aligned locks. If you can’t see your fingers or the lap cloth through the fibers after flicking, separate the lock and work on smaller portions. Remember what you’re after here – no more than 3-8 fibers in your singles yarns. A single lock, which contains well over 150 fibers, will take me somewhere between 5 and 10 minutes to spin.

When you’re ready to begin your singles, attach the leader to the lock of fiber by your preferred method. I start out by tying a slip knot in the leader, threading a half-dozen fibers through the loop, doubling them back on themselves and tightening down the slip-knot loop around the fibers. Then I begin treadling gently clockwise, allowing twist to build up in the doubled fibers, and only begin to draft when they have plenty of twist.

That first lock may spin fairly quickly as you adjust take-up, treadling speed and drafting speed. Don’t worry about it; just continue to thin down the singles until you reach the grist you want. I look at that first lock or two as ‘play time’, and explore possibilities. When I’m sure everything is set up properly, I’ll start to consciously reduce the number of fibers in my drafting triangle.

Hold the fiber lightly. You need to have control over the fiber supply, but you don’t want to have to pull fibers from the supply with your other hand, either. The twist should flow smoothly into the drafting triangle.

Warning: Heresy is about to be written! I do not insist that the inchworm method is the only way to produce even yarns. It is the easiest way for a spinner to gain the control necessary to learn the feel of producing fine yarns, but to me it’s a difficult, tension-inducing way to spin. If you see me spinning inchworm method, you can bet that I’m spinning either a new-to-me fiber or a down fiber such as cashmere. I mostly use what could best be called a modified long-draw method. While this may not produce what a technical purist would call a worsted yarn, the yarn I produce looks and behaves like a worsted yarn. With only a half-dozen fibers at most in the singles, it’s almost impossible to spin anything except a worsted yarn, anyway, especially when using lock-flicking as a preparation method.

I’ve heard it said that you can’t put too much twist into these very fine yarns. I don’t agree. The goal for very fine yarn is the same as that for thicker yarns – soft-feeling, well-wearing yarns for use in making cozy, warm wearables. Yarns that are extremely hard-twist have their uses, i.e. carpets and doilies and some fabrics, but I don’t care for wearing them. Control your twist. Depending on the fiber, you’ll want singles with somewhere between 12 and 25 twists per inch. How do you know how much twist you need? Sample.

There’s no substitute for sampling to gain information. Yes, you can check with other spinners, weigh their answers and decide what you want to do, but you’ll still have to sample. Whether you make a small (short) sample or a full-size sample (an entire bobbin or more of yarn) is up to you. These days I tend to feel that my spinning and knitting time is too short for me to spend it working on an unsuccessful project. It’s much better to spend a small amount of time and materials up front sampling in order to get exactly what I want. In the past, however, I was a card-carrying member of the full-size sample club. Like almost everything else in spinning, the choice is yours.

What sort of information can you gain by sampling? Let’s take a look. You’ve spun an entire lock at 25 wpi. This is a Romney lamb fleece, by the way, with a micron count of about 30 and medium crimp. You want to do a lace-weight shawl, with two-ply yarn of about 30 wpi. You’ve put a medium-fast whorl on your wheel which will give you a ratio of 12:1. The singles are measuring 35 wpi, but your two-ply sample is 20 wpi. You’ve got about 6 fibers in your singles, but the yarn is still larger in grist than you wanted. It feels a bit harsh, as well. How can you decrease the grist and improve the feel? This is where sampling comes in. I’d try the following steps, in order, to try to accomplish it.

First, slow down the wheel. A ratio of 8:1 will give me more time to fiddle with the drafting, and perhaps get 4 fibers down to 3 or even 2. That will decrease the grist. A slower speed may also correct the feel of the yarn, softening it up nicely. A half-lock later you discover that this isn’t working. You’re treadling yourself to death in order to get enough twist in and the yarn is drifting apart. That’s too soft!

All right, speed up the wheel. Perhaps you need a ratio of 20:1. You should be able to control the drafting, and the faster speed will help with the treadling. You’ll have to be careful not to put in too much twist, though, and make the yarn harsh again. Let’s finish up that lock. Nope! This definitely isn’t going to work. Too much twist is making the yarn feel like wire. But the grist is about right – 50 wpi singles.

What’s a good compromise? Do you have a 16:1 whorl? If so, try that. If not, go back to the 12:1 whorl and concentrate on your drafting. After the sampling you’ve done, you may find it easier to control the number of fibers in the drafting zone. You should definitely be able to keep the yarn soft.

All of the above is a process you should make automatic when starting a new spinning project. Play with your fiber for a few minutes. See what you can do with it – how much twist will it accept without turning to wire? How little twist can you put in without the yarn drifting apart? What’s the happy medium that gives you a soft, strong yarn? When you get to that happy medium, is the resulting yarn suited for your project?

Now I’ll let you in on a secret – if you have to go through the above scenario and still compromise to get a usable yarn you’ve probably chosen the wrong fleece. How many of you spotted that? It shouldn’t take that much work to get the yarn you want for a given project once you know something about spinning. Romney lamb can be wonderfully soft, but for the sort of yarn you want, a micron count of 30 is too high. You need something in the 20’s, preferably less than 25. Put the Romney away until you want to make a sweater or some socks. It will be perfect for that, probably spun at that 12:1 ratio and three-plied to a grist of about 16-18 wpi. But if you want a fine lace shawl, try for a Shetland fleece with a micron count in the 20-23 range.

Are there other possibilities? Of course. Shetland is traditional for lace shawls because the fibers are generally fine with an average crimp. So you can spin it fine, knit it into a crisp-appearing lace, and block it severely to show off that lace. The lower crimp will help it hold that blocking until it again gets wet. But Shetland isn’t your only choice. Targhee is a good choice for fine yarns, as are Rambouillet, Cormo, CVM, Polwarth, Romeldale, Bluefaced Leicester, Finn and Corriedale.

The queen of fineness, merino, is easy to spin to gossamer-weight. The best merino spins like butter into a singles of more than 70 wpi. The 20-30 crimps per inch factor can present some challenges with blocking finished items, though. If you choose merino, you should knit your shawl to the finished dimensions and block only gently; it will be wonderfully soft. But if you knit the shawl the usual 15-20% less than the finished dimensions and block it out, three weeks later it will again measure the unblocked dimension, especially if you live in a humid climate. The culprit? That lovely crimp. This can be offset somewhat by blending merino with silk, alpaca, or both. But you still need to sample carefully, block, and measure your blocked sample both immediately and several days later. Surprises aren’t too difficult to cope with before you cast on, but can be quite unwelcome after you’ve cast off!

All right, you’ve chosen the fleece, sorted the locks, washed them and let them dry. You’ve sampled and finally gotten about half of your singles spun – almost a full lace-bobbin of 2 ounces. Stop and put that bobbin aside. Set up another and spin again until it’s full. Put both bobbins on a lazy kate, put a very small amount of tension on the two bobbins, and set the kate well behind your chair on the same side as your lead hand.

Yes, I know you can ply from a ball. I do exactly that quite often with yarns larger than gossamer, since I don’t like to have leftover ends. Leftovers mean splices in the knitting, and I don’t like to splice. But in this case plying from a ball is potentially a huge mistake. You’ve spent a month or more spinning 4 ounces of gossamer singles. Gossamer singles are fragile, and have little tensile strength compared to heavier-grist singles. So don’t add the additional stress of winding into a ball and then unwinding again under variable tension to ply from that ball – they’ll break easily and tangle even more easily! Ply from two bobbins instead – you’ll be happier and won’t lose half your singles to tangles. Ask me how I know - but be prepared for a long tale of woe!

Ply slowly and carefully. I’m not normally the type of spinner who counts every treadle for a given measure of yarn, but when plying this stuff it can be quite helpful. Of course small changes in twist can be corrected when skeining the yarn, but the less you must compensate the better. I usually slow down the wheel when plying; if I’ve spun at a 16:1 ratio I’ll ply at 12:1 in order to give myself time to gently pull the singles from the kate and count the treadle strokes.

You’ve spun the singles on lace bobbins. You can ply on lace bobbins, too, or you can give a regular bobbin a try. The advantage to plying on a regular bobbin is that it should hold an entire 4 ounces of plied yarn (unless your wheel is one of those with smaller-capacity bobbins). So you’ll have no splices or ends with which to contend in the knitting. The same rule of thumb applies, though – if you find your yarn breaking every yard or two, switch to a lace bobbin.

Once the plying is finished, it’s time to skein, tie and wash the finished yarn. I use a 2-yard niddy-noddy, release the bobbin tension and stand about 10 feet away from the wheel with the finished yarn coming over the top of the flyer. Of course, the Majacraft has a sliding yarn guide. When using a wheel with flyer hooks, you may be better served to put your bobbin on a tensioned lazy kate before you start making your skein.

Skein smoothly. Standing some distance away from the bobbin allows any variation in the twist to even out, making for a better yarn. Skein ties should definitely be used for these gossamer yarns. If your usual sport-weight skeins are tied in 2 places, double that on lace-weight and put a tie every foot or so on gossamer yarn. Don’t tie tightly, especially if you plan to dye your yarn. But multiple ties will help keep the yarn untangled through the washing process. I use a smooth, high-twist cotton yarn to tie wool yarns because it’s easy to see and slip off when it’s time to untie.

Wash well in really hot water. You want to get out any remaining dirt from the fleece as well as any spinning oil you’ve used and the oils from your hands. Rinse in hot water, remove excess moisture either by using the spin cycle of the washing machine (but don’t let water spray on the skein) and hang somewhere shady to dry. Weighting the skein shouldn’t be necessary, but you may certainly do so if you prefer.

When my skeins are dry I usually abuse them to full, thicken and soften the yarn slightly. This doesn’t involve anything nearly as drastic as it sounds. I take the skeins and whack them on a table edge a few times, moving my hand-hold (and thus the impact point) around the skein. After that, it’s time to wind the skein or skeins into center-pull balls and start to swatch some of the lovely lace patterns available while dreaming of the finished scarf or shawl.

Hamster floss and frog hair aren’t difficult to spin. They are painstaking, and thus not as soothing as spinning larger-grist yarns. But gossamer yarns have their own sort of meditative quality for those who choose to explore them. And the end result of the process is so beautiful that you find yourself looking for fleeces and tops that can be spun in this manner.

Rules

My husband sometimes asks why I read so many different lists every day – several spinning, one tatting, several knitting and a couple of weaving lists deliver digests to me daily. I’ve tried to explain that I find the camaraderie at least as important as the information shared. Although he’s better than the average Joe at understanding how fiber artists and women network and support one another, he still doesn’t always ‘get it.’ But I truly enjoy the lists – the constant intertwining of newcomers and experience is fascinating and quite inspirational!

I’ve noticed one thing about spinning lists in particular (although all fiber lists show this tendency): newcomers all have basically the same questions and they all revolve around ‘rules.’ Most newbie questions boil down to “What am I supposed to do to get this result?” The long-time spinners on the list all pitch in and try to give them alternatives and options. But the advice is frequently conflicting and ambiguous. Why is it that way? Why can’t you simply give one clear set of directions and make it work every time?

Well, it has to do with the nature of spinning. Spinners aren’t machines, and if you put 100 spinners in a room, furnish them with identical wheels and fiber and tools, and ask them to spin a semi-worsted yarn of 10 wpi, you’ll get 100 slightly different yarns. If you watch how they go about producing that yarn, you’ll also see 100 slightly different techniques of fiber preparation, wheel setup, and spinning technique. I saw this in microcosm a few years back when a group of us did a sheep to shawl. I was the weaver for the six to eight spinners. Combining yarn from each spinner while maintaining a balanced plain-weave fabric was a challenge, even though each spinner was pretty good at spinning to the specified grist!

It’s like doing a presentation or a webpage. Some people like PowerPoint, some like Publisher, some Excel; while others prefer Corel or Photoshop or FrontPage. Any of those programs can get the job done, but different programs are better suited to different types of information. Additionally, some of us are more comfortable with one program than with another. Spinning is similar – there are many ways to get to the same end result, and each spinner chooses the technique best-suited to him/her as an individual.

I’ve talked about the variables in spinning before, but let’s re-visit them. Spinners are all different – different body types, different physical requirements and limitations and advantages. Wheels are also different, and some wheels are simply better suited to certain types of spinning (or spinners). You can adjust and finagle to make them spin other yarns, but it simply isn’t easy to spin gossamer-weight cotton on a wheel that’s designed for producing bulky, low-twist wool yarns. Individual animals are different – one fleece may be very different from another, and quality and fineness can vary from year to year on the same animal. As for plant fibers, different growing locales and conditions also give very different fibers. Try river-bottom flax and then mountain-grown flax – very different grist of individual fibers and very different color in the raw fiber gives a very different yarn to the same spinner with the same prep! Tools other than wheels are different, too – some are mechanized, and thus give a more consistent preparation; but hand tools will give widely variable results depending on the experience and technique of the user.

I can hear you now – “Are you saying there are NO rules?!?!” Well, yes and no. You shouldn’t try to spin long-wearing rug yarn from merino might be a rule. You shouldn’t spin a lacy camisole from Churro might be another. However, IF you look hard enough, there might be an individual Churro which would make a lovely camisole, and an individual merino whose fleece for that year would make great rug yarn. It isn’t likely, but it is possible; which would change the above statements from rules to suggestions.

Spinning is as much an art as a craft. Ask a potter how to get a specific shape and you’ll get several alternatives. Spinning is the same. There is always more than one way to get a given result. While this seeming abundance of alternatives might seem overwhelming to a beginner, get the basics down, shift your focus just a little and it becomes creative and freeing.

What are the basics? Spinning is very simple – get twist into fibers in order to make them hold together. There are no ‘rules’ about how to do that, and any number of techniques can be used to get the same end result – fibers that are held together by friction and compression. Think about all the types of yarn – worsted, smooth multi-ply yarns begging to be used in patterns of cables or lace; fuzzy, thick and thin single-ply yarns demanding to be an accent in sweater or purse; and everything in between. Can you think of different ways to get those yarns? No? Sure you can! How about one very basic difference? You can use either a spindle or a wheel to get exactly the same yarn. No way? Yes, way! It’s easy, it’s fun, and you can try it with any fiber.

Spindles and wheels (and carders and combs and hands) are tools. The only limitation to any tool is the skill of the tool-user – the spinner. I do combination spinning all the time – part of the fiber on the spindle that travels with me everywhere, and part on the wheel at home. I can match almost any yarn spun on one with the other. But there are a couple of limitations for me at this point in my spinning career – for really gossamer-fine spinning of down fibers like cashmere I prefer a supported spindle. I have trouble matching that fineness and delicacy consistently with down fibers on my wheels. But I DO normally use a wheel to ply those spindle-spun singles, both because I can get more on a bobbin than I can on a spindle and because it’s easier for me to control the amount of plying twist on the wheel.

On the other hand, I’ll normally use the wheel to make softly-spun bulky singles. I don’t like heavy spindles, and own only one for a simple reason – using them for more than a few minutes hurts. But I can stop and start my double-treadle wheels easily using a large whorl and slow treadling speed to make a fairly consistent bulky single. It works for me, so I do it this way. But these techniques may not suit you! Your favorite tool for spinning soft-twist, bulky singles might be a Navaho spindle. If so, use it! If the yarn is what you want, you’re spinning it ‘properly.’ Can you refine your techniques and procedures to get the same result more easily? Perhaps. That’s another reason to keep reading and studying and sampling. Another spinner’s method may spark an idea in you!

Spinners will tell you that different fibers require different spinning techniques. You don’t spin cotton in the same way as wool, or wool in the same way as silk. Does that mean you can only spin silk, for example, one way? Nope. You can use silk roving, caps or hankies to spin anything from bulky singles to hair-fine thread with any amount of twist you choose as long as the end result hangs together. You can use any wheel or spindle at any ratio or weight in order to do so. But you WILL have to modify your technique with each tool in order to obtain your desired result.

Can you spin cotton thread on a Country Craftsman? Yes, but it will take longer and require more adjustments on the part of the spinner than spinning the same cotton on a charka. So if you have a charka, why not use it? If you don’t own a charka, go ahead and tinker!

Are there limitations? Only those imposed by the laws of physics and the spinner’s own body. For example, the spinner on that Country Craftsman should be prepared to treadle 5 or 6 times for each inch of cotton thread (at a 3:1 ratio, 5 to 6 treadles would put a reasonable 15-18 twists per inch into the cotton). If she/he doesn’t, the resulting cotton thread won’t hang together because there won’t be enough twist inserted to generate sufficient friction and compression to keep the fibers together. That’s a limitation that the spinner might want to address by choosing to use a different tool. Of course, if part of the idea is to incorporate gentle aerobic exercise into spinning time, this might be a good method!

“So you’re saying that there really aren’t any rules at all?” Well, yes, pretty much. That’s one reason why I said there was an artistic component involved in spinning. There are techniques, suggestions and guidelines, some of which I’ve touched on above (or before) but there is only one hard and fast rule – it isn’t spinning if there’s no twist! If you have incorporated twist into a fiber, it’s spun. That has another ‘twist’ to it (pun more or less intended) – if you like the yarn you’re spinning, you’re spinning just fine! Tell the self-appointed spinning police to go pester somebody else.

Instead of looking at the lack of ‘rules’ in spinning as frightening and bewildering, shift your focus a little. Spinning is a craft, yes, and it does have one rule. But it’s also an art, and in art there are few hard and fast rules – only alternatives and possibilities to explore! So use the tools and techniques you find comfortable. Time and practice will almost certainly present you with alternative tools and techniques, and don't be hesitant about trying them; one of the best things about spinning is its simplicity and the way in which that simplicity encourages individual experimentation and expression.

Anniversary Pi News!

I cast on Sunday morning (January 22) while waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, and the powers that be cooperated beautifully all day! I'm now on the 5th row of the 288-stitch section and on 30+ inch rosewood cable needles. A picture of progress to date is below:

Details: I finally decided to just do the Pi, incorporating patterns from Sharon's book Heirloom Knitting (http://www.heirloom-knitting.co.uk/). I had the book handy, and the other patterns from the EZasPi Shetland lace workshop were downstairs on the computer, and I didn't want to wake anyone to get them (a sleepover was in progress for my son and a couple of his friends), and I really liked the idea of doing alternating rose and leaf patterns...what can I say? I’ve been eyeing these patterns for awhile now, and this was just too good an opportunity to play!

Cast on was simple - 9 stitches into a knitted tube of worsted-weight cotton on size 3 Brittany glove needles. That tube makes keeping track of the limited number of cast-on stitches easy for me, and taking the tail back through with a tapestry needle after I’ve completed a few rows is easy. At this point I stopped, drank the coffee and ate some breakfast – the cast-on and first 2 rows still looked good on re-inspection. I kept going.

Yarn is natural-colored gray handspun baby alpaca and bombyx coffee-dyed silk, and I noticed on Saturday that it’s practically the same color and almost exactly the same grist as the KnitPicks Alpaca Cloud in the soft gray color. I like the feel of mine better, though (I went with 70 % alpaca and 30 % silk by weight). I’ve spun up about 1200 yards of 2-ply, and hopefully that will be enough (although I think I’ve got most of another 4 ounces of the alpaca and silk blended).

I did stockinette stitch to the 36-stitch section, then began the Little Leaf Lace with a 4-stitch repeat. Only 6 rows are required at this point, so I did a row of knit stitches after the increase row, 9 repeats of the 4-stitch, 4-row pattern, and another row of knit stitches before the next row of increases.

At the next, 72-stitch section, I continued the little leaf lace, with 2 knitted rounds, 2 vertical pattern repeats, and another 2 rows of knit stitches adding up to the 12 rows needed before the next set of increases.

After the 144-stitch increases (24 rows) I changed over to the simple rose pattern, doing only one pattern repeat between knitted increase rows. Very plain with lots of stockinette, and the offset rose pattern provides a pretty contrast and a bit of structure after the very lacy leaf-pattern repeats.

I increased for the 288-stitch, 48-row section late in the afternoon, and continued working 3 rounds of knit stitches before shifting to the Leaf Lace. Plans are to work 3 ½ repeats of the leaf lace (an 8-stitch repeat of 12 rounds) around, ending again with 3 rounds of knit stitches before the next set of increases.

I plan to use the Rose Diamond Lace for the final 576-stitch, 96-row section. It’s a 20-stitch repeat, so I’ll increase 4 additional, evenly-spaced stitches in the first knitted round to accommodate the extra stitches, and do 4 plain knit rows before and after the planned four 22-row pattern repeats.

Gauge to this point on size 4 needles is 3 stitches and 4 rows per inch. This should give a diameter after the 96-row section of 96 inches and a circumference of 301.5 inches, more or less. Since I’m a mere 60 inches tall, this should be more than enough – I may even stop after 3 Rose Diamond Lace repeats. In fact, as I type I’m becoming fairly sure that I will do so – 96 inches doubled is 48 inches sans edging, and I don’t want to drag my beautiful shawl through the mud!

I’m still working on an edging. I may ‘make up’ an edging of simple stockinette points or scallops that include the rose in the widest area, or I may use a Double Scallop Shell edging. Even the Doris edging would pick up the diamond shape from the Rose Diamond Lace, although it would be a departure from the leaf and rose motif. I’ve got quite a ways to go before I get there, so I don’t need to decide right now.

I received two baby shower invitations yesterday, so unfortunately I’ll be sidetracked for a week or so making gifts for them. My shawl will wait patiently, however, until I can get back to it!

Mobii, or how I made a silk purse from a sow’s ear

I’ve been playing with Mobius scarves recently. I’ve made 3 so far, gave 2 away before getting pictures, but held onto the latest and best-suited to my wardrobe. A picture is below:




It’s quite short, being a scant 188 stitches at a gauge of 5 stitches per inch. But I wanted something to hug my neck nicely under my coat, or top a mock-turtleneck knit top, and it fits perfectly for that. So what’s the rest of the story? Well…

I used handspun Blue Faced Leicester that I had originally dyed in light tones of primary colors – red, yellow, blue and green – using Wilton food color. I only had 8 ounces to begin with; as I recall this particular top came as packing material for a drop spindle I bought from Copper Moose awhile back (great spindle, by the way). Lovely stuff that I packed away for the perfect project. I originally thought that the perfect project was as the color component in a pair of Fair Isle gloves, but got sidetracked into Mobius scarves. There might be enough of the original colors to finish up the gloves…

Yes, Virginia, I know the colors above are shades of red. There’s a story behind that, too. I started knitting this scarf from the original colors, edged it with a simple lace, changing colors every so often, and it was really pretty, and would go well with almost any outfit I wear. In order to finish it up, I washed the scarf. Then I discovered that the red and green food dyes were bleeding horribly. Aha! I thought – I’ll just put the wet scarf into the microwave with a bit of water and vinegar and re-set the dyes. That should work. Unfortunately, what happened in the microwave wasn’t pretty. The red set, but the green ran all over everything and shifted the color value of the entire scarf toward ‘very sad.’ It was pretty enough, but would no longer blend with much, if any, of my wardrobe of light clear colors and neutrals. “I really liked this scarf, too,” I mourned, as I hung it up to dry overnight, wondering if I’d ever wear it.

Next evening the scarf was dry. The colors, however, were still quite muted and sad. I liked the pattern of knit and purl variations, loved the lace edging, but hated the colors. Well, I’d tried over-dyeing once. Could I do it again, but in a color that would actually blend with my wardrobe? I started clicking through the color wheel in my mind. I don’t wear much that would go with green; any shade of yellow I could get is out except as an accent away from my face. Blue…the green would go aqua, the yellow green, the red purple and the blue bluer. But I only have one pair of pants and a single top that I could wear with that combination. No socks that would match it. Keep going. Red…red would work. The green would go brown, the yellow shift toward a red-orange, the blue go to purple and the red intensify. It would go with most of my wardrobe. And what do I have to lose?

So I ran a bowl of hot, slightly soapy water and vinegar solution and set the scarf to soak. Good news - there was no further bleeding to skew my dye results. While the scarf soaked I found a nice deep red in my trusty Wilton paste cake dyes (Christmas red, if you want to know). I added a couple of dabs of bright blue to shift the color away from orange-red, then poured over boiling water and added a bit of vinegar. Looked perfect. I removed the scarf from its soaking, placed it in a microwaveable bowl and poured over the color solution – 4 cups of liquid. I then covered the bowl and cooked everything on high power for 6 minutes. At that point it was boiling. I reduced power to 50% and cooked again for 12 minutes to finish exhausting and setting the color. After the microwave dinged, I left the bowl inside for a couple of hours while I took care of the usual evening tasks. About bedtime I went back and pulled the bowl from the microwave. It was nicely cooled down, dye was completely exhausted. I rinsed the scarf and hung it over a vent to dry. Next morning I looked it over. Beautiful! The colors had done exactly what I thought they would, and I was going to wear this today!

I did wear it that day, and it garnered numerous compliments. I’ve worn it twice since, and every time had the fun of confounding one or another engineer. They know what it is – a mobius – but have no clue how I might have made it. Only one electrical engineer has come close to guessing. The geotechnical, environmental, cryogenic and process engineers haven’t come anywhere near figuring it out. I love confounding these folks!

A New Year’s Rant and Some Spinning Wheel Thoughts

“I’m not a fancy spinner, but I only use two whorls – slow and fast!”

The discussion was about the range of ratios a new spinner might want to use on a wheel. I had given a thoughtfully-reasoned response regarding possible uses for the ratios of the wheel she was considering, along with a recommendation that she might want to look at wheels that offered more alternatives. This comment felt like a personal attack from a most unexpected source - another spinner!

My initial response was to fire off a volley of my own, but luckily I cooled off and erased it before posting. So far I haven’t responded at all, and don’t intend to do so on that forum. Rude spinners are luckily few and far between, but to my mind rudeness should never be encouraged by attention! Then I started thinking about the remark, and those thoughts are what I’d most like to share here.

First, let’s make it very clear – I’m not a ‘fancy’ or ‘expert’ spinner. I’m not a ‘professional’ spinner, nor a particularly ‘precisionist’ spinner. I’ve learned enough about spinning, both from study and from experiment, to usually be able to figure out why yarns and fibers combine in a certain fashion, and if I can’t figure it out alone I check my reference books and/or post a query to the fiber lists.

I have gotten to know the possibilities and limitations of my tools in the same way that any other craftsman does. I’m constantly exploring the fascinating possibilities of various fibers, both alone and in combination. I consider myself a ‘mindful’ spinner in much the same way that I’m a ‘mindful’ knitter, tatter, crocheter and weaver. As I’ve said before, my great-grandmothers were spinners – they’d have loved the variety of fibers and textures available now! Their idea of a new fiber was a new breed of sheep's fleece!

I don’t have a vast storehouse of practical experience about every known fiber – although I'm pretty good with several specific fibers. There are so many spinning fibers available these days that we don’t need to completely explore all the possibilities of a single type of fiber – besides, it’s too much fun to try the next one out there! I’m as susceptible to this sort of browsing as any other spinner. I have learned a great deal about spinning certain types of yarn, however, mostly because I’ve wanted to produce specific yarns for a frequently-repeated purpose.

One example is sock yarn; I’ve become something of an expert sock-yarn spinner simply because I’ve been spinning yarns for socks for several years now. If you spin and knit enough yards for a specific sort of project you learn what works best for that general project. If your desire is to make a wardrobe of handspun socks that you can wear for several years, you learn how to spin yarns that will give that sort of wear.

Another example is gossamer ‘thread’ for lace knitting – I love lace, love knitting, and have learned to spin different fibers very fine in order to feed that ‘addiction.’ I’ve learned which wools and wool blends I prefer for shawls, how to reel and throw silk, how best to spin and ply silk and fine wool singles for various lace projects, and that I don’t particularly care for using singles yarns in my own shawls. More importantly, I can repeat my results when I need a specific yarn. Mindful spinners do keep at least rudimentary records.

I’m currently exploring the possibilities of singles wool as weaving yarn, and learning that much of the conventional wisdom is absolutely correct – but that you can push the envelope, too. I love silk, medium-fine and fine wools, and various exotics, so my spinning has concentrated on those fibers. They can behave quite differently in a woven fabric than in a knitted or crocheted one.

You learn by a combination of research and experience. If you don’t learn anything from your explorations, you waste time and perfectly good fiber re-learning things. If you prefer to simply sit and spin whatever fiber in whatever fashion, holding it for a possible later use or just to pet occasionally, that’s fine. It’s your time, your fiber, and ultimately, your money. But please don’t be snide because my choice is different! There is plenty of room in the spinning world for both of us, and we can both do what makes us happy.

Now for an elaboration on what I originally posted to that list. Modern spinning wheels are generally designed to be suitable for a fairly wide range of fibers simply because that’s what modern spinners want. But some wheels are better than others at some things. That’s why we look at things like ratios, and I was happy to see that sort of relatively sophisticated question from a fairly new spinner. It shows that another ‘mindful’ spinner is on the way!

Anyone who has been spinning for awhile knows that some wheels are better suited than others to certain types of spinning. The ‘best’ wheel for spinning cotton is almost certainly a well-tuned charka. I don’t usually use a charka for spinning cotton, because I don’t have a well-tuned one handy (I built my own, and while it works, it takes a lot of tinkering) and do have a high-speed accelerating head for my Majacraft. So I use my Rose to spin cotton, cashmere and other fine, short fibers.

Saxony- or Canadian- or Norwegian-style wheels with large drive wheels are best for serious production spinners because a single push of the treadle gives the most efficient return for your effort. Great wheels can spin large amounts of woolen singles wonderfully well. That’s exactly why I tend to use my Symphony when I want to produce lofty woolen-spun yarns in large amounts fairly quickly. Can I use my Rose or Ashford Traveller to do the same thing? Yes, but not as easily or as quickly. It’s akin to using a pocketknife to cut down a tree – you can do it, but why bother when a good sharp saw is only a few steps away?

So why do I advise a new spinner who has up until now only knitted worsted-weight sweaters to look at wheels that have the capability of spinning gossamer-weight yarns and fine, short fibers? Because people change. A wool sweater knitter sometimes decides to knit a fine lace shawl for a new grandbaby or bride, or a rustic cotton sweater for a family member who lives in the Florida Keys. The new knitting needles for this project are fairly inexpensive (if they’re necessary). A new spinning wheel, however, is a more serious investment. Why not give a bit of forethought to the choice in the beginning?

I can hear you saying it now, “But you can spin cotton or cashmere yarn at an 11:1 ratio!” Of course you can. I’ve done it. But it’s much easier and faster to do it at a 20:1 or even 32:1 ratio. If you’re going to spend upwards of $300 U.S. on a spinning wheel, why not get one that will allow you to do that IF YOU CHOOSE? That’s called contingency planning, and it’s just garden-variety common sense.

Think about other times you plan for contingencies. You need toilet tissue in the upstairs bath today. You can choose to buy only one roll, or you can plan ahead, knowing that the downstairs and guest baths will need toilet tissue later in the week. Why return to the store for a single roll three times, when you can do it all in one trip? Ditto groceries. Why purchase flour for only that day’s cookies when you know that you’ll need it again for pancakes later in the week?

Both of those are rather simplistic, but they’re still valid examples of contingency planning. That sort of thinking should apply to our fiber tools as well as our kitchen and pantry shelves. Spinning wheels should be general-purpose machines. Spindles are specific-purpose tools; a light spindle for a fine yarn, a supported spindle for short, slick fibers, heavier spindles for plying or coarser fibers is the accepted wisdom for good reason. But wheels for hobbyist (not production) spinners are different to my mind. They should, with minimal tinkering by the spinner, be able to produce an acceptable version of any type of yarn. It’s that phrase “with minimal tinkering by the spinner” that gives a hole large enough to drive a great-wheel through. What one spinner considers ‘minimal’ another considers ‘way too much trouble’. That’s why one spinner likes a Babe while another considers a Schacht the only way to go.

The following is directed to any spinners who’ve ended up here hoping for advice on choosing a wheel. You’ve heard it before, and you’ll hear it over and over again. You should only choose a wheel in person. Drive for three hours each way to attend a spinning guild meeting or visit a store where you can try out different wheels. It’s worth it in the long run. A scary example – I have several spinning friends who bought Schacht castle wheels awhile back. Lovely things, wonderfully adaptable for many different yarn types, portable, don’t take up a lot of room but a nice big drive wheel. I was in the market for a wheel, and asked if I could spin on theirs for a few minutes during a meeting. I tried three different Schachts that day, and had the same problem on all of them – I’d spin for a few minutes and then have a back spasm. Lovely yarn, wonderfully responsive action, but the wheel doesn’t fit my body!

If you absolutely cannot find a wheel to try out (you live in rural Africa or the Aleutian Islands), the next best thing is to ask some blunt questions on the spinning lists. Most of us are glad to help out a beginner – sometimes overwhelmingly so. Make a spreadsheet of your answers that lists the spinner name and email address, wheel recommendation, ratios available, orifice height, etc. Check the list archives and find old posts with information on specific wheels. Get online again and look at pictures and specs on the various wheels – Google is wonderful! Then winnow out the wheels you don’t like for any reason – the reason doesn’t really matter; it's your money and your taste so no justification is required.

Next head back to the list and ask specific questions about your top two or three choices. If spinner A___ raves about the fine yarns she can spin on her (fill in the blank) and you love fine yarns, email her directly. Ask her politely for details about her build and spinning habits. If you’re four feet ten inches tall, fine-boned and thin, while she’s six feet tall, big-boned and fluffy, go back to the list and ask for more help. Find somebody articulate who is about your size and shape, and then find out exactly why they prefer their (fill in the blank) wheel. NOW you have some information on which to base a choice.

Can you make a mistake with this method and buy a wheel that doesn’t fit your body? Of course you can. That’s why you should, if humanly possible, try out wheels in person. We are all individuals, with different bodies, medical problems, spinning styles and ergonomic needs. What works for one five-foot tall fluffy spinner doesn’t work for all five-foot tall fluffy spinners (yes, I’m five-foot nothing and fluffy, in case you hadn’t guessed already).

I’ll hush now. Hopefully I’ve given somebody something to think about, even if it’s only how silly I am.

Here’s wishing you a wonderful 2006, full of fiber fun and family and friends!

Christmas Report!

The packages have been opened, the ooohs! and aaahs! are over, and now I can talk about the projects I completed! I didn’t post ahead of time because my children, parents and other recipients check out my blog more frequently than I realized until this Thanksgiving! So rather than spoil their Christmas, I just kept quiet. But now I can show everyone what I did this fall!

I did lots of gloves this year. Gloves for my husband, sons, mother and mother-in-law and gloves for myself (see the October 25 posting). I used Knit Picks’ Andean Silk for my husband and my older son, who is currently living in the northeast (courtesy of the US government). I also used another Knit Picks yarn – their merino Sock Landscape in the Cape Cod colorway was the choice of my younger son. I used Debbie Bliss cashmerino for my mother and mother-in-law, and made them each a sinfully soft pair of DK-weight gloves.

Knitting gloves for a person gives ample time for reflection and prayer. I thought about my DH’s large, seemingly clumsy hands that have always been gentle, whether changing a diaper on a small child or helping up a stumbling spouse. My husband is a quiet man who is the center of our family – we all revolve around his laughter and kindness.

My mother’s hands are beginning to show the signs of the arthritis that has become the bane of her seventh decade. RA is a great deal more than a television commercial if you’re living with it every day. Yet she continues to spend her time doing for other people, either family members or members of her church family. Her hands are competent, sturdy and graceful despite the swollen joints.

My mother-in-law has very small hands that belie the strength within her small frame. She taught special education for decades, and is now spending her time serving her family and church family. She only grudgingly gives in to the restraints her body is beginning to impose.

My older son has flown the nest. The Navy suits him; he’s happy and busy and learning new things every day. His hands have toughened since June; the palms are broader, the fingers stronger and new callouses have formed. My best Christmas gift was to have him home this year. It was a bittersweet time, since I realized just how little he still needs us. But he has the maturity, sweetness and grace to pretend otherwise, and I’m so proud of him.

My younger son is straining toward the door. He’s a senior in high school, anxious to go on to his next challenge. His hands are a combination of his father’s and my own – a broad palm with long, tapered fingers that always move gracefully. He’s a graceful young man, with a bit of salt mixed in with his sweetness. He’s both the athlete and the musician of the family, and I can’t wait to see where his talents and drive take him.


I also did purses – one for a young friend, one for my older son’s fiancé, and one for my younger son to give. Those are fun, since fulling the finished knitting hides any ‘mistakes’ and intensifies the colors and textures. They’re a fast knit compared to something more detailed, and fitting is quite flexible. Purple is ‘in’ right now for young ladies, and since I also love purple, these small bags were simply a pleasure to make.

My daughter has definitely flown the nest. She married this year, and her Christmas was given early so that she could spend the day with her new husband. I did a hat, scarf and purse for her from some thick and thin wool novelty yarn. Hopefully it will keep her warm and remind her that we all love her while she’s creating a new family life. I miss the younger and teen-age years, and wish her all the best in her new adult life.


Then there were the sweaters, made for the grandchildren. A tradition seems to be in the making. This year's offerings: A fun alpaca boucle´ with pewter buttons in the shape of a turtle dressed my granddaughter in high style.

My grandson got a more traditional look. I’ve loved Elizabeth Zimmerman’s commonsense approach to knitting for a long time, and decided to make her Tomten Jacket for my toddler boy this year. His young complexion looks best in neutrals and bright colors, so I used Knit Picks’ natural Wool of the Andes, trimmed in handspun brown Shetland wool dyed with cherry kool-aid. The toughest thing was putting in the zipper – machine-sewing zippers doesn’t bother me at all, but hand-sewing in knitted fabric took all my courage! I followed EZ's toddler-size pattern, and can only assume that Elizabeth’s children were larger than my own! However, he’ll grow into it in no time at all.

As for my own gloves – I spent a great deal of their knitting time praying for patience and healing. It’s been a difficult year from several standpoints. My husband still continues to look for work, my daughter has presented us with her own set of challenges, and my son’s departure for the service was difficult emotionally, even though it was a good decision for him. But I look forward to 2006 with hope for a wonderful year.

I wish you all a happy 2006, filled with love and joy and peace and fiber!

Gifting Handmade Items – A Manifesto!

It’s the time of year when many of us have either started or completed several handmade items as gifts. I’ve been following several discussions on the Knitter’s Review forum (http://www.knittersreview.com/forum/) with interest and, in some cases, horror. Here’s my own two-cents’ worth on the subject.

Your handmade gifts are wonderful expressions of caring – you’ve thought about what fiber, yarn, color and technique will suit the recipient and you’ve thought about and prayed for that person as you made the gift. You’ve put much time and at least some money into the gift, and anticipated the recipient’s delight upon opening it. You’ve invested a good bit of yourself in this gift, and exercised (and in some cases stretched) your talents to make it.

Let’s leap forward a bit. It’s gift-exchange time, and the recipient is opening the gift. If you’ve chosen the recipient well, you’ll get a delighted squeal or a heartfelt ‘thank you so much’. But if you’ve chosen to lavish your time and talent on an unappreciative person, their reaction may be downright hurtful. What do you do when the recipient doesn’t appreciate your time, energy, talent and money?

Opinions vary, of course. Some say just don’t make that person anything again – buy them whatever you can afford (even if it’s only a token gift). Others suggest that you explain why you chose to make the gift, sure that the recipient will appreciate your effort if it’s only explained to them – slowly, lovingly and using very simple words.

Explanations and excuses abound – depression-era adults or those raised in poverty feel that ‘handmade’ equates to ‘poverty’, and either feel insulted or uncomfortable that you felt it necessary to make their gift. Kind people insist that the ungrateful recipient simply doesn’t understand the effort and love, or is jealous of your skills. Perhaps those are explanations of a sort, but a simple “thank you” delivered in a sincere tone isn’t too much to ask in return for any gift!

Sometimes education does help – it did with my mother-in-law, a product of the Depression. She hid my gifts to her for several years, although she was always polite enough to acknowledge them gracefully. I finally got the message and started giving her purchased items only because she WAS my mother-in-law; then several of her friends saw things I’d made her and raved. Suddenly she wants only handmade gifts from me and brags about my skills to those same friends.

Sometimes education doesn’t help at all – I have one family member who will never receive another gift from me beyond a holiday greeting card. He simply didn’t appreciate the effort or the skill – he’s one of the unfortunates for whom money is the only measure. The only thing you can feel for these poor souls is pity; don’t lavish your time and skill on them again!

I’m probably in the minority but I think that poor manners are exactly that – poor manners. Rather than purchase anything for an ungrateful so-and-so, I’ll strike them from my gift list entirely! Harsh? Perhaps so. But I still feel that it’s the best way to handle it if at all possible. Sure, sometimes you just can’t do that – like my mother-in-law. If I’d stopped gifts to her entirely my darling husband would have been justifiably upset.

I have many people for whom I do make things – most of them in my immediate family, although one or two are especially good friends. I make their gifts because they understand and appreciate the love and skill involved. They are awed and delighted that I make the time in my busy life to do something especially for them. I make these gifts joyfully and with love in every inch.

But herewith find my own personal manifesto! I declare my freedom from guilt! I will no longer force myself to make something for those who do not appreciate the effort, no matter who asks me to do so. And if I don’t have the spare cash to buy a relative something, I’ll simply put a card under the tree and again refuse to feel guilty! The shortcoming is theirs, not mine, and the responsibility for modifying their attitude is also theirs. So be it!

Now where did I put that pattern and yarn…

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!