Chaos, Bikers and Thou

Wow. This blog was supposed to be mostly fiber related but we are all a bit more multi-faceted than that..no?
So, I will start by saying I just ordered 12 oz of premium yak down Woooohooooo!

Now..back to what I was going to yammer on about.

The last few years have been a bit rough. The more people I talk to, the more I realize this is happening on a broad spectrum. Maybe the dominant paradigm is shifting..as the bumper sticker says.
I have been kind of ill the last few years..my immune system likes to go a bit overboard and attack my endocrine system. Currently they are in a stand off.
I invested a lot in what I *should* want, and very little in myself. With my tendencies towards the magickal and fantastical, I had at some point I guess, decided that I needed both feet and hands planted firmly in the practical world. As my body got weaker, my attempts to grasp this became more futile and stronger..ending in a week in the hospital. The job was killing me. The self doubt was crippling me..I watched all the things I loved (dancing, being physical, being involved and regarded as smart) slip away one by one. So did most of my friends. My body kept shutting down and I kept turning off. I lost what I thought was my support group, and relationships became antagonistic. I can still taste the bitterness if I dwell on it for too long.
My job became harder and harder to do. I didn't know at the time how much these conditions affect my cognitive functioning. I came home too tired to care, or do anything about where I was going..but hell..I still had my 401k right?
I struggled to keep it all going, and the harder I tried the more it slipped away. There were people who reached out, who stayed in contact and gave their support. There were people who out of lack of understanding made some damn cruel comments. I didn't care about most of them.
Laying in the hospital bed, I had a series of "visions" for lack of a better term..probably induced by all of the medication I was on, but meaningful none the less. The universe is a large large place, I am nothing in it. Our daily strivings for our perfect job, our perfect marriage, our perfect image, our perfect group of perfect friends to hang with..all ultimately meaningless. I have looked in to the void before, now I realized I was in the middle of it. If everything is meaningless, why not just drift away...let my screaming body rest.
And in the void there was a pulsing light..broadcasting outwards. It's all meaningless so give it your own meaning. What do you want?
I want to have a yarn shop. I want to teach people to spin. I want to perform greater acts of audacious magick. I want my husbands band to tour and for him to live that dream. I want my sisters to finish college and make their mark on the world. I want my brother to be married to the perfect partner....the list came spilling out. Meaningless in the larger picture yet full of emotion. My boat across the void.
Sitting at my doctors office, he told me with a concerned look that he wanted me to take a few months off work. My body had taken a beating and would not get better without some rest and a dramatic decrease in my stress level. The good corporate girl fought it..misplaced loyalty to a job that blew me off a few months later, and that haunting idea of what I should want. I am not my 401k, I am not the paycheck in the bank each month. I am not the docile trying to please yes I can do it person I now hated.
I took him up on it. And yes, a few months in to it, the job I tried so hard to excel at cut me off like a useless appendage. Not even by letter or in person...just a cold phone call saying I'm not needed anymore.
Fall out of the boat in to the abyss again...how much of my identity was wrapped up in that job?
Alot apparently.
I found the knitters. Human beings that talked to me accepted me on the surface and became my friends. Some my very good friends. I slowly came to realize that not all women are back stabbing beyatches who will go out of their way to kick you when you're down. Nice.
Back in the boat again, rowing for the shore. My husband, mom, sisters and brother were elated that I found them. I started to talk about my dream of my own shop again. I found connections with people again. They were my life line(yarn?)
Fast forward a few more months now. My body has rested, my mind..it's getting there. Through these women I have found other friends, inspirations, and a tap to the emotions I had turned off long ago.
When my job let me go..I panicked. There goes my security..my paycheck. I called my mom. She reminded me that life is short..I had dreams and now I have a chance to make them happen. She also said in her closet chaos magician way "Why is it we beg for something to manifest, and then when it does we freak out". Good...rhetorical..question....
A blur of months of checking out books on small business, setting up an online shop, and treating my spinning as a job...but a job I love. It gets me out of bed in the morning excited about what I will create today. It is its own magick...the wheel has so much history and mythic use behind it. Those stories were now translated in to the yarn winding on to it.
Magick came back..daily practice, meditation, physical exercise. I can see the shore from the abyss now.
My husband had a show at Iliff Park while I was out of town, and met the new owner.
We talked one night and I instantly liked her. She was going through hell..details I won't pass on here, but I got her.
Through roundabout means, one night after her dead father showed up in a plaid shirt and told me life on the other side is a hoot...we are working there now on the weekends.
At this point I choose to believe it is a convergence. The people I am meeting, the slow unraveling of the yes to everyone but myself self, the music, the laughs, the people I am meeting in uncanny ways.
The other night I saw my first biker punch down. Dumb kid grabbed the boobs of the owner's neice. Realized that I had my bite back. No need to cringe from life anymore. A toast to the unraveling of my "self" and then another.
Get back in the boat, you don't need the comfort of the shore. Adrift on seas of chaos, we will catch the waves to new lands, new experiences. If you hold security to strongly, you just squeeze the life out of it..out of yourself. It's all meaningless and that is hilarious. Laugh and catch the spray of the sea on your face.
And to my co-captain Jace..I love you. I told you the other day, and I am typing it now for all the world to see..I love you. I am glad you are my husband, and have never given up on me. Let's sail the boat and eat foreign fruits!

My Wheel's Gone to the Dogs!

Yep..it's about spinning pooch, plying fido and all things about chiengora (with a few allergy pills to boot)

Most spinners I know are avid collectors of just about any fiber they can sqiush betweeen their fingers. We have spun cotton tops from pill bottles, attempted to make yarn out of dryer lint, proclaimed loudly to other spinners when we get a mere ounce of vicuna, yak, or buffalo. But spinning dog? Seriously?

Heh. Why not..if you own one, the supply is abundant. Chiengora is more thermal than wool, and the super hollow core makes a lightweight but durable yarn.

But what about the doooog smell? Who would wear anything that will make them smell like their family pet?

There will be a recipie at the end of the blog for de-stinking the stuff. We don't smell like barn yard animals when we wear wool..because it is cleaned. And trust me..I have cleaned far more POOP (and gawd knows what else) out of sheep and alpaca. The family dog just gets a little dusty from playing in the park..and he gets bathed regularly.

And what could express love for your constant companion more than wearing something out of their down?

Scandinavians and Native Americans were both known to spin and wear dog down..if it was good enough for them, it's good enough for me. And I can dye mine in cool colors!

So the subject used for this lovely spinning example was Crazy Sam the Siberian Husky..who interestingly enough, really likes to watch my spinning wheel go round and round (would love to know what is going through that noggin of his sometimes)

Rosie, his companion supports the effort by either lying at my feet adoringly, or stealing Sam's bed while he is entranced by my wheel. Being a weim, she doens't have a spinnable undercoat, but we love her sleek softness just as much! As usual, the hubby was kind enough to take pictures of the current escapade on the edge of insanity spinning.

We got about 8 oz of good fiber of Sam with a few brushings. (Think about this very hard before owning a Siberian...we have only had him a few months, and there is probably just as much "fiber" on the couch and floor at this time)

The best way to collect dog down is either with a rake or a slicker. It collects the soft UNDERCOAT of the dog, and not the guard hairs, which make for some scratchy yarn.

Rakes look an like a nice long wool comb and guess what? They will help de-hair like one too if you have a set of them!

I can't find Sam's slicker to take a picture of, he probably ate it. Or buried it in the back yard. Or Rosie hid it to get me to blame him for its disappearance.

I stored his fluff in a large ziplock bag until I had enough to spin. I tried washing a batch first, but it clumped and pretty much felted the minute it hit the water. Now I just clean it afterwards.

Dog hair is full of static in this climate..if you decide to give spinning it a try, put a dryer sheet in the ziplock bag or spritz it with some watered down conditioner. Your clothes and allergies will love you for it later.

So..now to sit at the wheel and give it a spin. Amazingly, both dogs cooperated and damn near posed to have a cute picture of them taken next to the wheel. Awwwwww.

My wheel allows for both double drive and scotch tension. Double drive was a bit too strong and had less control (the spun single would fly out of my hand, untwist, turn in to fluff and cause a lot of swearing to get a new leader yarn out again that didn't drift apart.)

So..larger whorl, scotch tension.

Dog down needs quite a lot of twist. Not to the point of corkscrewing, but a good firm amount. It feels horrible and rough on the bobbin. Don't worry..it softens nicely when plied.

After trying several draw techniques, I found the most consistent for Sam's down was forward long draw. His down has super short fibers, and this was by far the most controlled technique for spinning them. I just finished a box of Newfoundland down, and that did better with a double long draw. Fiddle wit it until it works for you.

Here's a picture of the wheel, set up on single drive scotch tension on the 2nd largest whorl, with Samgora on the bobbin. Nice eh?

I used a fairly long leader yarn to begin. Grab a handful of dog down, lay the leader yarn in it, treadle to build up the twist and let it grab the down. Rock n' Roll!

There are probably more pics than text at this point, so keep scrolling...

Laying the leader yarn in the hand full of down

Using my thumb and forefinger to control the amount of twist catching in the fluff. No comments on the pink pants please.

Doin da forward long draw! The fiber hand controls the amount of dog down coming out with the thumb and fore fingers, the twist is regulated by the drawing hand between the thumb and first two fingers. Clear as mud eh?

After I get enough drawn out, I treadle to put a few more twists in then wind on to the bobbin.

Occasionally, you get a glump of fur coming out of your hand. I use the drafting hand to untwist the lump, while pulling gently back with the fiber hand. When the "bump" has been drafted out to the same thickness, let the twist run in to it.

Sam's fiber needed to sit on the bobbin for a few days to let the twist settle and make it easier to ply. Plying before this made the yarn really weak and whispy.

I did a simple 2 ply yarn before the IMPORTANT finishing process. Dog down should be fulled. And by fulled I mean you full until it dang near felts if it is a weaker yarn. And we also come to the part about not smelling like your pooch when you knit with this stuff.

Wash the skein in a deep bowl with about a gallon of water. Add about 3-4 table spoons of washing soda (NOT baking soda, it ain't strong enough!) and NO soap for the first wash. Pummel the crap out of the yarn to get the dirt out, and let the soda mixture permeate those fibers. Let it soak for not more than 5 minutes, as washing soda is pretty caustic and will happily munch on your creation after this.

Rinse ALL of the soda out in the same temperature the water has cooled to. Squish squish squish until it is allllll gone.

Run another bath in the bowl of warm water and dog shampoo. Neat thing about this stuff is it has deodorizers in it MADE to take that doggy smell away from your friend. It will do it for the yarn too! Pummel again to make sure the soap gets all the way in. Rinse in cool water.

Lastly, fill the bowl up again, and add about 1/4 cup plain ol vinegar. This will neutralize any soda remaining, condition the fur a bit, and further deodorize it. You can add a few drops of nice smelling conditioner if you want. The vinegar smell goes away when the skein dries.

Rinse lightly, and dry/ block as normal.

Here is a picture of finished Samgora for the Big Bad Wolf series I am starting, as well as some Loki yarn, from the newfoundland I spun. Have fun spinnin yer pooch! You can buy the Loki yarn at my shop www.rumplestiltskeins.etsy.com. 20% of the profits from ALL cheingora yarn are donated to the ASPCA.

How to Use a Nostepinde

Ok, directions for this are all over the web now..but here is my version since we are selling them now!

It does not matter whether you are right or left handed for these instructions. Try both and see which works for you.

Step 1: Hold the nostepinde in your hand comfortably. The end of the nostepinde should be at the heel of your hand.

Step 2: Wrap a bit of yarn around the end of the nostepinde, in this case, the grooves are made to hold it there comfortably.

Step3: Bring the yarn up the shaft of the nostepinde, and wrap it around the middle of the smooth area 6-7 times.

Step 4: The tricky part! Really though, it's a snap once you do it a few times. Hold the yarn at a 45 degree angle and KEEPING it at that angle, wrap around the 6-7 wraps you just made. Wrap 3-4 times at a 45 degree angle, then turn the nostepinde slightly. Wrap 3-4 more times, then turn again. It does not matter whether the yarn goes over or under the nostepinde, or whether you wrap from top to bottom or bottom to top...it just matters that you keep going in the same direction. Notice in the picture on the right how the forefinger braces the wraps to keep them from slipping off initially. As you wind more yarn on, this won't be necessary. The thumb is bracing the bottom of the yarn wraps.

Keep wrapping and wrapping at a 45 degree angle while turning the nostepinde. Eventually you will start seeing a nice yarn ball forming.

Step 5:When you are done wrapping grab the yarn ball in your hand and slide it off the smooth end of the nostepinde. Keep your finger on the yarn wrapped around the groove.

The yarn wrapped around the groove is now the leader yarn for your center pull ball. Pretty nifty eh?

It only takes me slightly longer to wind on a nostepinde than on a ball winder. With practice your speed increases and you will be zipping through it without even thinking about it.

Nostewpi!

Coming soon to a Rumplestiltskein's store near you (ok, there's only one, and it's more like a click away)

Jace, my beloved hubby, heavy metal drummer, dog brusher and occassional knitter has been busy in the garage.

There are a lot of scraps of wood out there I keep bugging him to make in to something nifty. I love nostepindes for winding a ball of yarn (more portable than lugging your ball winder around, and less easy to break!) and a WPI tool.

For those not familiar with either, a nostepinde is an old world tool..the basic idea is to create a center pull ball of yarn by wrapping your yarn around a central core at a 45 degree angle while turning the nostepinde. When you are done, you pull the ball off and viola!

A WPI (wraps per inch) tool is useful to spinners and weavers to determine the guage of yarn. Yarn is wrapped around between the inch measurement, and will tell you how many wraps per inch the yarn is. This is REALLY useful to guage yarn or singles if you are a spinner...if you are trying to re-create a much loved yarn, or substitute one yarn for another a WPI tool will help you know you are creating singles/yarn that is the thickness you require. You can describe everything from bulky yarn (about 9 WPI or less) to lace weights (40 WPI would be some wispy stuff!) Combined with YPP (yards per pound), and skein weight, it is possible with this tool to give a very accurate description of yarn if you can't actually hold it in your hands and look at it.

Sooo...after all this technical schtuff...we come to the point of the post.

I was thrilled when my hubby presented me with not only a nostepinde, but it doubles as as WPI tool as well. Pretty dang groovy and he will be producing them to sell in my etsy shop! (http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=6442883)

Mine is made of a lovely dark walnut, the one in the picture to the right is being made out of of maple.

Small enough to be portable, handy enough that you'll never want to be without one!

The handle of the nostepinde has a clearly marked 1 inch area that serves as a WPI tool.

Pretty groovy stuff! Please see the pics below with examples of how the nostewpi is used.

Yarn is wound on at a 45 degree angle while turning the nostepinde.

Pull the ball off the nostepinde and you have a center pull ball!

For meauring WPI, use the marks on the handle.

My Brothers Christmas Sweater

99% Shetland Wool
1 % Weebie
The story of this sweater started on a warm late spring day in Colorado. The trees were turning green, the sky was blue, and Jason decided to take his wife to the Estes Park Wool Festival.
You lived here before, you know the scenic drive winding through the mountains to the little town tucked away in the valley of Long's Peak.
We wandered in to the fairgrounds, not knowing what to expect. Jace just wanted to make his wife happy, and his wife was definitely happy at the prospect of seeing fuzzy farm animals.
We wandered through barns full of sheep, goats, llamas, rabbits and the alpacas your sister would be assaulted by a year from then. We took pictures of their doe brown eyes, I pet the greasy and unexpectedly stinky fur, and all was right with the world.
There was an indoor market at the festival. I didn't want to go in because I knew we were broke. I peeked in the door and saw a lot of men standing at the outskirts looking tolerant, and rabidly milling women scurrying from stall to stall to see what was for sale. I wanted to go in and touch all of the soft fleeces, and get caught up in the excitement and festival atmosphere inside. I hesitated in the door, and Jace told me he had stashed a way a little bit of money for me to buy some wool.
Unlike the other men who looked vaguely uncomfortable while watching the frothing women in the market, Jace followed me through from stall to stall, letting me stick my hands in greasy bags of fleece, asking a gazillion questions of the sellers and making sure that the money he stashed would not be wasted and would go as far as possible.
Three trips around the market and one assault by an old woman on Jace later, I settled on 2 bags of shetland fleece. Raw. I will explain raw later, but then and there, I wanted to know what it was like to make yarn from the sheep up. I hopped back to the car, with two huge trashbags full of fleece in my fists. The sheep your vest came from was named Coco-Puff by the way.
The car smelled like sheep all the way home.
The house smelled like sheep the next day. Sheep in pictures are cute, even idyllic. Sheep in actuality are filthy, and will roll in just about anything they can find. Those big fluffy curly lanolin soaked greasy fleeces hold it all in too.
For 2 days, I tore off chunks of fleece, dunked it in steaming hot water full of dish soap, stirred it slowly around, drained the tub and repeated that process 3 more times. After it was all washed and rinsed, I hung it in big net sacks to dry, proud of my accomplishment. I wondered how women before the industrial age did it. It was a hobby for me, a survival necessity for them. They also probably washed fleeces outside and didn't piss their husbands off by clogging the entire drainage system of the upper floor of the house doing this either.
Really, I am almost done with the technical aspect of this and will get to the good part shortly...
After the fleece was all dried and fluffy (and a lot less smelly) I took out the hand cards Jerry bought me last year for Christmas. I will leave out the second statement of admiration for pre-industrial women. Carding wool involves taking the tangled mess that washing a fleece causes, and making nice little cigar shaped rolls of wool that you can spin. Yay!
Not that I am going for some sort of martyr record, but it takes about 3 hours to decently card a pound of wool. Another salute to the women of old..seriously.
Mom came to visit while I was still carding, she was reading her magazines and I was sitting on the porch providing a sound track of whiff whiff whiff scraaaatch. It was a lot of work, but I am sure I looked happier than this woman, who probably had to do it all day and didn't have cable TV:
It was all taken to the wheel and spun, mostly sitting by the fireplace watching Lord of the Rings Trilogy and Cosmos.
Aside from perusing the library for the perfect pattern, and requesting the frequent help of the knitting goddess Tamara, that accounts for the 99% shetland of this vest.
Oh yeah..and a funny story about Tamara, who is my best knitting buddy/teacher, and spinning friend right now:
I took your vest to the stitch and bitch to get her to check it, make sure I am doing everything right (it is after all, the first knit item that I am making that isn't square or rectangular). I proudly plopped down the back of the vest that I had finished and asked her to inspect the work. The conversation went something like this:
Tam: “ Good job. Your brothers a big guy like us then?”
Me: “ Ummmmmm...nooooo. Not really.
Tam: “ Huh. You knittin this for an elephant then?”
Me: “.....mumble incoherently”
Tam: “ Well, let me see what we can do with this”
After about 5 minutes of consulting with other knitters, and ideas such as stretching it on the rack medieval style, felting it, or maybe making the front skinnier, it was determined that the entire thing would have to be frogged.
Most non-knitters have no idea what the term frogging means. It was painful to hear it that night. I went next door to the coffee shop that Jace was sitting at and cried. I told him Tam was being mean. He said good, and sent me back over to deal with it. Frogging means, tearing out all of your stitches..all the way back to the beginning balls of yarn. The term comes from the act of rip-it...rip-it..you get it right?
I went back to the yarn shop, sat down next to Tam, and began silently unraveling my 2 weeks worth of work. I was so bummed I texted mom, and sent her the sad picture of the result of my frogging:

At least I had some coffee to drink now, and a big chocolate brownie.
Now...about the weebie part, and this is the important part.
I like to believe that when you create something for someone, there is a piece of your thoughts and your energy (for lack of a better term) that stays with the object.
Of course, in our family we know about weebies. We send them out, wish them for each other and joke about them. Joking or not, I like to think that the piece of myself left in a creation is guided while creating it. It is like a meditation..the thoughts and memories in my head flow down my arms, through my hands, in to the needles and permeate the endless loops of yarn that become fabric. Here are the ones that went in to yours:

Walking to the bus stop from the pool in the summer with towels wrapped around our heads and goggles over them pretending we were Star Wars characters from the Cantina.
Endless summer games of hide and seek, softball, kick the can, and kickball with neighborhood kids.
Martian Sundaes.
Getting the Wishbook catalogue every year, and pouring through the pages circling everything we wanted Santa to leave under the tree.
Sleeping on a bean bag in your room Christmas Eve staying up as late as possible watching “It's a Wonderful Life”.
Then sneaking up early in the morning to see if the stockings were full.
Mosey laying on the paper you were reading on the living room floor..and you playing dentist with him so we could laugh at how he rolled around wiping his paws on his nose.

The time we left fake poop on the living room floor as a prank.
You coming to my defense when I got ganged up on in middle school.
Trying to teach me how to drive in your old blue truck, and me almost wiping out a dog and 2 skate boarders.
Hanging out with you and your band. I got to feel cool and adult, and you never seemed embarrassed to have me along.
Endlessly picking on you when you had a girlfriend over.
Hanging out with you at your first apartment in Denver. How cool and big city it all seemed and made me want to live there.
Moving to Denver and hanging out even more...going to coffee shops, meeting your friends..the first Christmas party we had at your house that I made posole for..and you and I were the only ones that could eat it.
The “beginner hike” up Herman Gulch, and chocolate chip peanut butter bagel sandwiches..which were the best things I had ever tasted after that hike!
Our fishing trip where the dogs tried to tie you up while you were setting up your tent. We didn't catch any fish because Max kept chasing the lure in to the water, the adventure on the “2 person” inflatable raft and how I almost sunk it by getting my hook stuck in it and breaking the oar, trying to get the fire started at high altitude, eating almost raw steaks and peanut butter pretzels because potatoes take 4 hours to cook at altitude, watching your tent jerk around when I scared the bejeezus out of you by accidentally setting my car alarm off in the middle of the night (and the headlights just happened to be aimed at your tent) and the groggy next morning getting stuck in the mud while we tried to fish one more time.
Going to see the Russian Ballet's Nutcracker.
You being here for the birthday when you all pitched in for my spinning wheel.
And the end result of spinning the yarn that made the sweater I was knitting for you.
If I put all of the memories down...it would take months if not years to write. But memories in your head are fluid and escape time. So fluid that the warm comfort and joy of experiencing them again flow right in to the vest you are creating.
As I finished the last stitches, and pondered over the “just right” buttons for it, I realized that I wanted more than anything for you to find someone in your life that would appreciate all of the things that made up the brother I have such awesome memories of growing up with. Life has many changes and branches, and I wanted you to find someone that would love the adventure of being with you.
In my mind, I pictured you wearing the vest while having coffee with that someone, a golden glow of a perfect moment surrounding you both, and somewhere many miles away, the happy smile of your little sister knowing you had met your match and she was too old now to intentionally irritate and annoy that perfect person..but instead would do a little happy dance for the brother that has been by her side her whole life.
May your adventures be grand, I am glad you are my brother!

Hardcore

Adventures in core spinning....

It seems like you are more willing to try a new spinning technique when the fiber isn't one you directly invested in.

I received 2 really awesome batts as a gift this Christmas..and was itching to get them on my wheel for the rest of the trip in New Mexico. Not that I didn't receive a lot of other really awesome and thoughtful gifts..but this blog was intended to be largely about spinning and all things fiber-y.

I set the batts on the table in the kitchen and stared at them every time I walked by. An interesting blend of mohair and wool, in a deep chocolate brown and raspberry purple. They had traveled all the way across the country, in to Canada, and back to the desert, and were now sitting there on my table waiting to be spun.
Ohhh the dilemma. I have been on a personal challenge to spin as fine as a hair for a while now..singles that have to be separated by tissue on the bobbin so they don't get lost fine.

But this stuff begged for something different. Maybe something I have never tried before?

Noo....these are good batts stick with what you know.

But if you do that..then you never learn anything new and you never challenge yourself.

But if you try something new and totally hose it, you can't just run down to the fleece store and buy 2 more of these .

arrrrrggggggg......

So they sat on the kitchen table and caused me anxiety every time I walked by them. Every once in a while I would stick my hand in the bag and squish them around a little. I even held the bag up to my ear one day to see if they would speak to me. No such luck.

A few nights ago, while thinking about my sample project for phatfibers (www.phatfiber.blogspot.com/) I got the idea. Yes I would try something new..core spinning.

The fibers were perfect for it, shiny, with the bounce of mohair, and a way to preserve the cool colorway that plying would have made muddy.

I took the batt out of the bag and inspected it closer . Yum. So the theory behind core spinning is not difficult. You pick a core, usually crochet cotton or a 2 ply yarn, and spin your fiber around the core at a 90 degree angle, wrapping the core with fiber. I also read a tip about de-plying your core a little bit first to make a more blanced yarn. Easy enough.

I dug through my supplies and found a spool of crochet cotton, hooked up to the wheel and began to untwist it. I treadled..treadled, did it some more. I stopped to turn the TV on to have something to watch while I was treadling. I recited the periodic table of elements while I treadled. I sang songs to myself while I treadled. I decided that the mechanical action of it was ingrained in my body enough to allow me a few minutes to nod off while I treadled. And then I treadled some more. Ok, realistically it was only about a half hour. But it seemed to take forever, and in hindsight it was the longest part of the whole danged process.

When I was done, I had a nice bobbin full of untwisted cotton thread, hopefully better able to grab my happy fibers and make a yarn that would be the envy of the gods. Or at least knittable.
Actually, while I uploaded the picture of my nice bobbin, I noticed an X Box controller sitting in it. Next time I have to de-ply some cotton thread, I am going to load up Halo and have fun blowing make believe things up to pass the time it takes to treadle.

I grabbed the batt and tore off a long strip. Pulled a few fibers out of the end to check the staple. Probably not neccessary but has become a habit. A good long staple, lots of bounce from the mohair. Difficult to separate the colors but that could be cool in its own right.

Loaded up a new bobbin, and reverse threaded it with the de-plyed cotton as a leader. Mumbled an incoherent prayer to nothing in particular and began to treadle.

My lovely strip of fiber wound on like a groupie to the lead singer of a hot band, then promptly jammed in the orifice of the wheel.

Damn.

With suprisingly minimal swearing, I patiently unwound the strip of roving and decided I should probably do the smart thing and pre-draft it a bit. Duh. I even had my patient hubby take a picture of it...what was an 9 inch strip of fiber is now several feet long.

Yes, I am in my pajamas, no you are not allowed to make snarky comments about it. Just keep reading, ok? Wow. I really need to vacuum my work area....

Ahem..Round 2 of core spining adventures. Treadled again and let the end of the fiber catch, and watched while it gleefully wound around the cotton thread. Success!! Wooo!

It took a bit of finagling to make sure the fibers covered the core completely, bits of white thread kept worming up to irritate me. Next time I will use a darker core to match the fiber.

The only other issue I really had with it was the yarn was a bit too thick to go through the orifice, and would have to be hand wound on to the bobbin. I also had to change from my scotch tension over to double drive on a really large whorl to get the strongest take up possible.

My first bobbin was a bit of a mess. The second wound on a bit more smoothly after much fussing with the wheel to get the settings right.

When I was done, I had 4 skeins of bulky soft shiny yarn. Preeeeetty.

I finished them off in hot soapy water and pounded the bejeezus out of them to open the fibers up around the core and hopefully stabilize them on to it a bit more. Even after de-plying the thread, there is still a lot of active twist in these yarns. I gave them a good thwack on the counter then wet blocked them by hanging them on a rod with a three pound weight. I am super uber pleased with the results, and am now core spinning all of my scraps I can get. Sam the Siberian Husky is now running and hiding when he sees me coming towards him with the comb in my hand.

So here is the result of my core spinning adventures:

It is soft, spongy, has a bunch of character and has a really good hand. I have it hanging off a chair until I decide what to knit it in to . Should I try something new?

Stick with the old standby scarf?

Make it in to something really cool and artistic?

Arrrrrggggg.......