Another week, another fibre festival. I bought a fleece. This is unusual for me. I have limits and my rule is to buy wool that is at least washed if not processed. Not to mention I've run out of places to stow fibre in the wool room. However, the colour and texture was so very much my taste that I found myself standing in front of the fleece warding off other shoppers with my presence as I made up my mind. The fact that it is a local product is a bonus.
 |
| Gotland fleece |
I know that once it is spun into yarn, it will lose the contrast of silver against grey and thereby lose its beauty. I know that I should have been satisfied with a photograph and left the fleece where it was. But right now I don't care. It is mine and my wool room is graced by it.
I helped people learn to use a spindle to spin yarn, and sent four people home with drop spindles and wool. A couple of them, I let them struggle for a while. They were trying to draft fibre after they'd allowed the twist to run up into the wool and lock everything up. I was sitting beside them, spinning a little yarn or knotting handspun bracelets for kids, available but not intruding. Finally I said, may I, and reestablished them at the place where the fibre drafted freely, winding the felted stuff onto the shaft out of the way.
I liked the setup of the demo area this year. I was seated on my own between a table and a tent pole, with one empty chair beside me. It was like a little nook.
