It’s not until you start looking back that you realize just how far you have come. This has certainly been true for my spinning adventures. A year ago I bought myself a spinning wheel. Before then I taught myself to spin on a drop spindle.
Many many years before that even, my mum was spinning on her wheel, and I tried to jump straight into it. I didn’t last 10 minutes and then didn’t have the urge to revisit it.
It wasn’t until we were passing through Cooma in the holidays of my second year at uni, stopping at the Ashford store, that I picked up a drop spindle. Curiosity got the better of me, and I bought one, along with some wool. My mum also got one, and side by side, we egged each other on enough to conquer the drop spindle. This was my first real taste of spinning. I spent the next 8 or 9 years spinning on my drop spindle, getting better at consistency and learning how to ply.
My first yarns were think and chunky. I crochet a hat from the first singles I ever made. It was pretty crude, but I cherish it. I then moved onto plying my yarns with threads or other fine yarns. My favourite was to ply them with sparkly thread (still is). And then, finally, plying with other hand spun yarns.
Now I have a spinning wheel. Honestly, in the year of having it, I have spun more than my whole 9 years combined spinning on drop spindles! The process seems to be much much quicker, and it is easier to get in the rhythm, not having to stop to wind on. I am completely and utterly obsessed!
I spin ever single day. Maybe its just a phase, only time will tell. But it has become a sort of meditative practice for me. I use it to clear my mind before and after work. I use it to keep my hands busy when I don’t know what else to do! I use it as a tool to be in the moment, taking in the feel of the wool in my hands and the soothing clicking of the wheel.
Alas, all this spinning is making my yarn stash get out of control! It’s ridiculous!