Lagoon. It’s two ounces of Blue Moon cashmere/tussah roving that I got at Rhinebeck last fall, from The Fold. I began spinning it last night, and got one ounce spun in about three and a half hours. I picked up the second ounce this afternoon, and had it spun and plied in about six hours.
I have 254 yards of luscious water-colored goodness to contemplate now. What will I knit? The color is off (it’s really much deeper) but at least this photo shows how many colors and blends of colors there are in the skein. I even have a skein of Socks That Rock in the same “colorwave.”
This was one of those creative experiences that sent me into a reverie. I’d just been thinking about what colors I like, and what color I might like to be, and I knew I had two little bundles of this special roving tucked away. I’d had a really, really hard Saturday at work, and I was too tired to think straight, but I was antsy. So I spun and spun, until at last I couldn’t see straight either. I woke up thinking about this beautiful Lagoon yarn, and what it is about blue that draws me, and why I craved the spinning of it, and why now.
So what is it that makes me want to spin at all? It’s not that I want perfect yarn, or that I want to master all the techniques. I don’t care about the latest technology beyond what my dear Ashford provides (I just don’t care much about Woolee Winders, plying heads, double treadles, or infinite ratios, thanks). It’s that I’ve known how to spin for so many years, and my hands are so comfortable making yarn. It’s that there’s a rhythm in the turning of the wheel and flyer, and that they have a meditative effect. It’s that I like that settled, relaxed feeling that comes, when the twist begins and the new yarn begins to wind on the bobbin. It’s that spinning gives me time to think Deep Thoughts, and to listen down to my toes.
Ah, I’ve reached the center: it’s listening, and being, that draws me to the wheel. So L is also for Listening.
Not Plain Jane 