17 Kilos of Blue Yarn

Hello! Would you like to visit a cemetery with me? That would be killing if I were asking you out on a first date, I know. As it is, I’m quite sure you’ll like it because we’ve been invited to come and collect yarn!

There are 17 kilos of it on an old-fashioned wooden drying rack in the funeral building that we’re transforming into a more comforting space with wool.

Seventeen kilos of hand-spun local wool, hand-dyed with local woad. Isn’t it gorgeous? All of the hanks are the same shade, in tones ranging from barely-there to intense blue. Somewhere on that rack are the hanks I spun, but I have no idea which ones they are.

First, someone from the organisation updates us briefly on the Aula-in-Blauw project progress. The carpet turns out to be one of the most time-consuming elements. She tells us that someone worked out how many ends of yarn need to be hooked onto the canvas: a staggering 113,100! The carpet travels from town to town, so that different groups can work on it.

Then she invites us knitters and crocheters to come over to the drying rack and choose yarn for the cushion covers we’re going to make. That’s what all of the 17 kilos of yarn are for.

While everyone is rushing forward, I get talking to the artist making the felted wall panels and admiring her samples.

I particularly like this sample, that’s like a pale blue sky with little puffs of cirrocumulus clouds:

Then, shuffling forward, I pass the three sample cushions on the front bench – one crocheted and two knit. They’ll make sitting here for a while much more comfortable. Weavers are going to make long cushions for the back supports.

While I’m chatting with some of the others choosing yarn, I’m not paying enough attention and end up with 3 very different hanks – one an Aran weight, one more like a DK and one with a thick-and-thin effect. It’ll be a challenge to make nice and even squares from them.

But it’s a kind of challenge I like, and it’s lovely to be part of this friendly community of knitters, crocheters, weavers, dyers, rug-hookers and felt-makers. A friend has already finished her cushion cover. On her blog, she writes that all in all it took her about 8 hours. With so many people contributing a little of their time a lot can get done.

Well, I’m going to sign off now and hope to see you again soon.

Many Hands Make Light Work

Hello! As you may know, in addition to my various personal knitting projects, I’m also involved in a community project: Aula in Blauw. It’s about a funeral space in the Frisian capital of Leeuwarden that has a beautiful view, but looks and feels terribly bleak inside. The plan is to make it into a more comfortable and comforting place using local wool and dye stuff.

The garbage bags leaning against the benches are filled with wool from a local flock of sheep. This is only a fraction of the total amount of wool needed. I took 2 batts home, weighing 564 grams together.

After spinning and plying, I ended up with five-and-a-half skeins of aran weight yarn, with a total weight of 540 grams. (The missing 24 grams were vegetable matter and unspinnable bits of wool).

It isn’t a lot, 540 grams, if you think of all the wall panels, furniture coverings and cushions that will be needed for the entire space. And a carpet, too. But I’m only one of the volunteers and many hands make light work.

Many hands make light work is one of the maxims of non-profit organization Pleed (a Dutch word for blanket, pronounced more or less as played) and this is one of their projects. From the waste product it now is, Pleed wants to make wool from local traditional sheep breeds into a valuable resource again. It feels good to be making a small contribution to that.

These are two pages from the Wool Rescue Handbook they’ve published. We were given a new edition at the kick-off of Aula in Blauw.

The bilingual booklet (Dutch & English) contains lots of information and tips for would-be wool rescuers that can be applied anywhere in the world. If you’d like a copy, don’t hesitate to contact Pleed here.

I put my hand spun wool in a box, added a nice card with the details of my skeins and sent it off.

Now it’ll go to another batch of volunteers – the dyers. They’ll dye everything beautiful shades of blue using woad.

Well, actually using woad leaves not flowers, but the flowers are more photogenic.

When it’s all been dyed, it’s my turn (and that of many others) again. Later this year, I get to knit a cushion cover. Or perhaps several – I don’t know yet. What I don’t know either is whether I’ll get my own yarn back or someone else’s. I’ll wait and see…

To close off today’s post, here’s a lovely quote from the Wool Rescue Handbook:

Enjoy

Working with your hands is relaxing. It frees your mind.
The quiet harmony of spinning a yarn,
the rhythm of a weaver’s loom,
the rubbing movement of felting,
or the sound of knitting needles:
all these activities are very enjoyable and relaxing.
Handling soft natural fabric is enjoyable.
The joy of making something passes on to the person receiving it.
A jumper made with love is so much nicer to wear.
What is made with love lasts longest.

Spinning for a Community Project

Hello! A slightly grubby street sign tells us that we’ve arrived at Schapendijkje (Sheep Lane). An apt name in view of why we’re here. So, where am I taking you today and why?

Well, we’re at a rather unusual place and I hope you won’t click away as soon as you know. We’re at the Noorderbegraafplaats – a large cemetery in the Frisian capital of Leeuwarden.

The reason we’re here is that it has a modern funeral space that urgently needs help from us, wool workers. (I’m using the word space instead of chapel because it is non-denominational.)

Come and take a look inside and you’ll understand why. With its white walls and wood-and-steel furniture, the interior is fresh, modern and spacious.

But the acoustics are terrible, sitting on the wooden benches for longer than five minutes is torture, and the atmosphere is rather bleak. The creative forces behind wool-rescuers’ organisation Pleed immediately saw possibilities and started the community project Aula in Blauw. In their words, the aim of the project is

‘to have a funeral space where people can feel embraced by
soft local woad-dyed blue wool.’

The plan is to improve the acoustics and atmosphere with felted wall panels, a hooked rug on the floor, long woven coverings for the backs and seats of the benches, and knitted and crocheted cushions.

Around sixty enthusiastic people showed up for the kick-off, and many more names are on the list of volunteers. I don’t feel comfortable placing pictures of their faces on the internet, but I think I can safely show their legs and feet.

For those of us volunteering as spinners, wool from the flock of sheep grazing the public green spaces in Leeuwarden was available.

I came home with two batts of washed (but still slightly greasy) and carded wool – 564 grams in total. The flock consists of Drenthe Heath Sheep, Schoonebekers and mixed breeds. I was told that ‘my’ wool is Drenthe Heath Sheep.

We’re asked to spin a fairly thick yarn and were given a length of blue-grey hand-spun wool as a guideline. My first two tries were too thin, but I think what I’m getting now is about right.

The 2-ply yarn I’m spinning is 10 wpi (wraps per inch), which amounts to a worsted-weight yarn. This is my wpi tool with its sunny smile:

The spinning needs to be finished by September, when the yarn will go to the next stage: the dyers.

Below, you can see my spinning set-up. My Louët S10 spinning wheel and an old kitchen chair. To the right a small basket for catching vegetable matter and unspinnable bits of wool. To the left a big basket of unspun wool. I’m spinning with a black tea towel on my lap, to protect my clothes and to better see what I’m doing with the white wool.

I’ve had some questions from another volunteer, so for anyone who’s interested, this is how I spin this yarn. I’m not saying this is the only way or the best way – it’s just how I do it.

I’m using a short forward draft, for a denser hard-wearing yarn. For spinning I’m using the largest ratio of my wheel (the largest disc). This will give the yarn the least amount of twist, which is most suitable for a thicker yarn. While I’m spinning, my wheel is turning to the right and I’m counting with every time I treadle: 1, 2, 3, let go.

I still get more twist than needed, though, because my hands aren’t fast enough feeding in the yarn. This is why I’m using the middle disc for plying. That will take enough of the twist out to make a stable, not overly twisted yarn. While I’m plying, my wheel is turning to the left and I’m counting 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, let go.

This isn’t the easiest wool I’ve ever worked with if I’m honest, and I was struggling a bit at first. But after I decided not to fight the wool anymore and accept its character we’ve been getting along fine together, the wool and I. I’m no longer trying to spin a perfectly smooth thread but aiming for a rustic yarn. Sounds good, doesn’t it, rustic? It’s a great lesson in embracing imperfection.

If you’ve discovered my blog only recently, here are a few related posts you may enjoy reading:

Thank you for stopping by and I hope to see you again next week!

Joure Wool Festival 2023

Hello!

Last Saturday the annual wool festival Joure onder de Wol was held again. For me it is close to home, but it is so varied and inspiring that people from all over the country come flocking to it. Arriving before the actual festival started, I first paid a quick visit to the local yarn shop for some yarn for a soft toy for our grandson (more about that in another post). Draped over the back of the bench next to the entrance was a dazzling crochet blanket.

So not my taste, and yet I was fascinated by it. The techniques used are interesting and the choice of colours is also well-balanced. I wonder why crocheters often seem to have such different tastes from knitters?

Leaving the shop, my phone made that owly who-oh sound telling me that there was a message. It was the friend I was meeting up with, ‘Where are you? I’m with the sheep’. Typing ‘I’m coming!’ I hurried towards her. The sheep shearing was already in full spate.

Some sheep had already lost their coats, while others were still wearing theirs. Looking closely at the photo below, perhaps you can see the woman on the left, wearing a straw hat, pointing her finger. She is pointing out which fleeces she wants, and then the hectic catch-me-if-you-can between sheep and shepherd starts.

It’s fun to watch, although I feel a little sorry for the sheep, too. Being undressed in front of a large audience doesn’t seem like much fun to me. The next sheep waiting its turn doesn’t look unduly stressed, though.

Next, it was time to look at all the other woolly things. There was so much to see that I hardly know where to start. I’ll just pick out a few highlights. First of all there was wool – raw fleeces from many different sheep breeds…

… washed, carded and dyed rovings…

… and yarn, yarn, beautiful yarn – much of it hand-dyed, sometimes using natural dyes (click on images to enlarge).

And then there were the things people had made with wool and yarn. Again, I’m just showing a few of the highlights.

There was needle binding. Although, as with the crochet blanket, the maker had a very different taste from mine I could see the beauty and possibilities in the technique he was using.

There were felted items, both needle and wet felting. Simple yet beautiful objects, like this wild and woolly nest with eggs:

And stunning felted ‘paintings’ of the northern Frisian coastal landscape. The photographs don’t really do them justice, but I hope you can see why they blew me away (again, click to enlarge).

A beautiful woven blanket also drew my eye. Weaving isn’t really my thing, but I’d like to give making small squares using one of these hand looms a try someday.

And then there were many people who’d brought their spinning wheels. I could write an entire post about those alone, but I’ll end with just one picture – a young teenager (I promised not to show her face) spinning the most beautiful coloured thread from local wool on an e-spinner – a lovely sight to see. Young people like her make me feel hopeful about the future.

I feel immensely inspired by this day at the Joure Wool Festival and hope you’ve enjoyed it, too.

The festival website can be found here, and a list of participants here.

A Fair and a Pair of Bootees

Hello! I hope you don’t mind going on another little outing today. This time I’m taking you to the first outdoor fair of the year in this part of the world. It’s a lovely small-scale event organized around three themes: Lifestyle (bags, soaps, home accessories etc.), regional food and wool.

We’re mainly here for the woolly theme, of course, but let’s pay my knitting-group friend Simone (aka Mevrouw Polska) a visit first. Long ago, she dreamed of owning one of those beautiful blue-and-white Polish teapots one day, when she could afford it. Well, she has one now and didn’t stop at that. She grew a small business importing and selling earthenware from the Boleslawiec region in Poland. There’s always something new to see.

It was only afterwards, looking at the photo at home, that I noticed the lovely knitwear. Simone is wearing her cosy Herringbone Hill sweater and one of the many Clapotis scarves she’s knit. With 23.600 projects on Ravelry, Clapotis is a hugely popular pattern. Several people in our knitting group, including me, knit at least one. Have you knit one, too? And behind her, one of the other stall holders is wearing a beautiful yellow cable sweater.

What I love about this fair is that many of the businesses are tiny. Here is Frog Mouse Studio, for instance, with her cheerful hand-dyed yarns. Besides the usual 100 gram skeins, she also has a basket filled with mini-skeins. Very tempting.

The young stallholder tells me that this is her first ever fair, and also that she has designed the sweet yarn labels herself.

Websiteless Wolvrouwtje, owner of a herd of 8 Shetland sheep is taking part for the first time, too. She has some of their yarn spun at a mill, hand spins and dyes some of it and also sells raw fleeces. Everything on a really, really small scale.

Wat Wollie has been in business a little longer – I’ve already knit a pair of socks with some of her hand-dyed sock yarn. New on her stall is local wool from Noordhollander sheep, first dyed and carded by her, then spun at a small spinning mill. The colours on those skeins are so pretty, and its interesting to see how they play out on a hat.

Although I would have liked to support these small-scale businesses by purchasing some of their lovely products, my current yarn-buying policy* didn’t allow me to do so. I’m supporting them in a small way by writing about them instead.

Over the past week, my knitting has also been small-scale. Our grandson urgently needed a new pair of bootees, as you can see.

His mum had already given the wool-felt bootees new soles, but they are now beyond mending. So, I got out some yarn left over from a sweater I’d knit for this thrifty mum, got onto Ravelry and found these Baby Hausschuhe (free pattern from a German blogger available in German, English and Portuguese). It starts with the sole and stitches are picked up from that for the top of the bootees.

The pattern only describes one baby size far too small for our now 1-year-old grandson, but after a few false starts, I’ve been able to adapt it for larger feet (my Ravelry notes on how to do this can be found here).

This was a quick, satisfying and useful little project, even nicer because I already had the perfect yarn for it.

* My current yarn-buying policy is to only buy yarn with a specific project in mind, but before buying anything first look in my stash if there is something I can use. Besides knitting the bootees, I’ve started something else with leftover bits of (sock) yarn from my stash. I hope to tell you about that over the coming weeks. Bye for now!

100% Wol

Hellooo! How wonderful that you’ve come all the way to the Frisian Museum of Agriculture to visit us!

Eh, well, we eh…

Moo, yes wonderful! I love telling visitors all about ourselves and our legendairy milk production.

Wel, eh, that sounds udderly fascinating…

…but we’re a bunch of knitters and spinners, and we’re actually here today for your colleagues the sheep, and the 100% Wol exhibition.

Baa, did I hear someone say sheep? Welcome!

I’m more than happy to tell ewe about ourselves and especially our wool.

Happy? We thought it’d be all gloom and doom, what with your wool ending up in waste incinerators or being shipped off to China as a waste product.

Oh, that! Yes, that’s too baad. But in the grand scheme of things it’s just a temporary blip. Think of all those centuries that our wool was a highly valuable commodity. We have a few items from the past here that’ll give you an idea.

There’s this interesting teasel brush, used to raise the nap on woollen cloth. So much care was taken for a perfect finish.

And here are some spindle stones from the 15th to 18th centuries. It must have taken so much time to spin our wool this way. People wouldn’t have put all this time and effort into it unless they thought the end product was really worth it.

A lot of care has also gone into knitting these woollen mittens. And they were valuable enough to the wearer to repair them time and again.

There were a few decades when people thought importing synthetic items from low-wage countries was better than using our fleeces, but let’s forget about those. Let’s look at the great initiatives now being taken using local wool.

To begin with, there’s this movement called Pleed that started with making woollen blankets and is now branching out into other projects.

And look at this wall of new products, all using our lovely fleeces.

There’s also been an experiment using locally grown woad to dye wool blue. You may already have heard about it.

And many more great initiatives are being taken. Just look around and you’ll see that the future is looking bright for us and our coats.

All’s wool that ends wool, we always say. Do come again – we have lots of woolly activities scheduled.

Or for those living too far away, there’s also a virtual tour of the museum. Thank ewe so much for your visit – it’s been such fun! Baa-bye!

Non-Superwash

Hello!

From the 1970s I remember something new appearing on the yarn market: Superwash Wool! It was considered a blessing. Garments knit from superwash wool were so much easier to care for – they didn’t felt, they didn’t shrink and all in all they were more durable.

For the blanket I knit for our grandson, I deliberately chose a superwash merino wool to make life easier for his parents. And now, recently, I read ‘…I have stopped purchasing superwash wools…’ in this book:

Why? I thought.

And then I came across a yarn explicitly marketed as non-superwash. Again I thought, Why? (Uh-huh, I have deep thoughts from time to time.)

Intrigued, I bought a few hand-dyed non-superwash skeins. They are now an almost finished Thús 2, that I’ll finish as soon as the weather gets cooler:

‘But’, I asked the indie dyer selling this yarn, ‘does that mean that your other yarns are superwash, even though the labels don’t say so?’ ‘Not all of them, but some of them are,’ she said. I was flabbergasted.

Apparently I’d been using superwash yarns all along without being aware of it! I’d always thought that all yarns were non-superwash, unless specifically labelled as superwash. And what’s wrong with superwash yarns anyway?

Always happy with an excuse to do some research, I dived into an online sea of opinions and information about superwash versus non-superwash wool, almost drowning in it. Here is a summary of what I found out:

Why would wool need superwash treatment at all?
Wool fibres have tiny open scales that interlock when friction is applied or when they come into contact with quickly changing water temperatures, leading to felting and shrinking. Superwash treatment can prevent that.

A controversial superwash treatment
The most commonly used method for shrink/felt-proofing wool by far is the chlorine-Hercosett process. After washing, but before spinning, the wool goes into a bath of diluted chlorine to dull the scales. And after that the scales are coated with a synthetic (polymer) resin to make them even smoother and prevent the wool from felting/shrinking. There is a lot of debate about this method:

  • On the one hand: The chlorine-Hercosett method requires large quantities of water and produces an environmentally hazardous effluent. In some parts of the world this may lead to water pollution.
  • On the other hand: Because of the strict waste water legislation in the EU and some other countries the effluent is treated to such an extent that only very clean water leaves the factory.
  • Positive: This treatment prolongs the lifespan of items made from the wool.
  • Question mark: Does the resin coating release micro pollutants when the wool is washed? Some producers say that the resin used is biodegradable and does not, but somehow I do not feel completely assured.

More environmentally friendly alternatives

  • EXP, which stands for EX-Pollution, was developed by Schoeller. This method avoids pollutants altogether, but still uses extra water.
  • Naturetexx Plasma, a treatment not using any water at all, but just air and electricity. The drawback is that it uses lots of electricity and there are questions about the durability of the wool treated in this way.

So, what is an environmentally conscious knitter to do?
It’s complicated – sigh! The labels don’t tell us much. They sometimes tell us that a yarn has been superwash treated, but not always. And they don’t tell us which treatment process was used. What we can do is this:

  • Visit yarn manufacturers’ websites. Some of them give useful information about their production process.
  • Look for yarns with the GOTS (Global Organic Textile Standard) label. Chlorine cannot be used in any stage of the production of these yarns.
  • Remember that any superwash treatment makes knitted garments last longer, which is also sustainable, and may be necessary for items that need to be washed often, like baby things.
  • Choose non-superwash yarns for items that do not need frequent washing. Some people say that non-superwash yarns have less saturated colours than superwash ones, but I find that hard to believe looking at these yarns from my nearest indie dyer.

Joure Wool Festival 2022

Hello!

Together with a friend, I visited the annual Wool Festival in Joure last weekend. We had a great time and (not entirely unexpectedly) saw LOTS of wool. There were bundles of curly locks, bags filled with raw fleeces, and cleaned and carded batts of wool from specific Dutch sheep breeds, like Texel, Dutch milk sheep, Kempen heath sheep and Dutch piebald sheep.

There was also wool from many other breeds of sheep, single or in blends, undyed or dyed.

I remember a time, not so very long ago, when I could only get raw Texel fleeces, and later some merino from Australia. It is amazing how much the wool landscape has changed over the past decade or so, and how much more local wool is available and appreciated now.

I don’t know why, but there was no sheep shearing this year. There were other fleeces walking around on four legs, though.

Don’t they have the sweetest faces?

There was also wool in the form of yarn, of course – machine-spun and hand-dyed, hand-spun and dyed and hand-spun in natural colours.

And then there were things made from wool. Adorable hedgehog mittens, Scandinavian and Latvian inspired mittens, and felted and woven items (click on images to enlarge).

Among all the animal fibres, there was also one plant fibre present: flax. “The Frisian Flax Females are spinnin’ flax into linen” the notice board, decorated with a bundle of flax, said.

Very interesting! Spinning flax into linen is very different from spinning wool into yarn. The flax fibres are kept from tangling by placing them on a distaff. On the rack to the right of the spinner you can see a few of the towels woven from the hand-spun linen.

The spinner keeps her hands close to the flax on the distaff and feeds the fibre onto the spinning wheel in short drafts.

And do take a closer look at the spinner’s traditional cap.

More information about flax, and how it is spun and woven can be found on one of the spinners’ website. It is in Dutch, but if you have Google as a browser, you can right-click on the text and have it translated.

And then, in the midst of all the hustle and bustle of the market, a quiet corner with an elderly couple. She is spinning and he is keeping her company.

They are both made from wool, needle felted and wet felted. And they are part of the project Gewoan Minsken (Frisian for Simply People). Artist Lucie Groenendal portrayed the people living and working in a care home by felting, drawing and painting them.

These are just two of them, with to the right in the photo above a work called Helping Hands. More about this beautiful project can be seen and read on the artist’s website.

I’m ending today’s post with the answer given by one of the people portrayed to the question what makes life worth living:

“Look for the good in people, enjoy the things you do, and know that growing old is a search for a new balance.”

xxx

PS: The general website of Joure Wool Festival can be found here, and a list of participants here.

Woolly Country Life

There was a small market in the square behind the church in the photo at the top. This market – called Wollig Landleven (Woolly Country Life) – visits a different village in our part of the country every month from spring through autumn. It is a lovely small-scale event.

The Country Life part refers to ‘essentials’ like soaps, sausages, cheese, herb teas, clothes and all kinds of knick-knacks for the home. My favourite of these is the baker with his wood-fired oven.

The smell is heavenly, and their lovingly displayed loaves are delicious as well as a feast for the eyes.

But I mainly came for the Woolly part, of course. There was wool in different forms. There were raw fleeces in plastic bags…

… complete sheep skins…

… and hand-dyed fibres for felting and spinning.

The last time I went to a ‘real’ crafts fair was in February 2020, and no indoors yarn events will be held here in the near future, as far as I know. The organizers of our regional (indoor) crafts fair are now aiming for February 2022. This market only gets permission because it is outdoors and complies with all the regulations, lilke one-way traffic and a limited number of visitors. And we still need to be careful to keep a 1.5 metres distance, disinfect our hands etcetera.

But in spite of all that, the atmosphere is relaxed, and it is wonderful to stroll around looking at the wares and just be among people. It takes some getting used to that again. There was one person who stood out because of her daring and original outfit.

Looking at the shawl now, it occurs to me that it might be a Stephen West design. And yes, a quick Ravelry search tells me that it is Slipstravaganza. He is so creative, and his designs really stand out.

I enjoyed looking at several baskets filled with handspun yarns. To me it is always inspiring to see what choices other people make. What colours did they choose to combine? How many plies? How thick or thin is their yarn? Is it slubby or even?

It was a lovely surprise to meet two new indie dyers. The first was Wat Wollie (which is a pun in the local dialect and could be translated as What WOOLd you like). Petra dyes her yarns in beautiful saturated colours.

Apart from at these markets, she also sells her yarns through Etsy, and her website can be found here. Petra has only been knitting for a few years, but has quickly become an accomplished knitter, as her sweater shows. I forgot to ask which pattern she used, but I think it is Goldwing by Jennifer Steingass.

The stall next to hers was that of Badcattoo Yarn. It’s fun to see how every dyer has her own style. Badcattoo’s yarns are generally lighter and often have parts left undyed. She also has a website.

For a long time now, my policy has been only to buy yarns with a specific project in mind. But for once I’ve deviated from that rule and bought a skein from both dyers with no idea what I’m going to do with them yet. I had some pocket money to spend on frivolous things, after all.

Both are fingering-weight yarns with a percentage of nylon in them. Top right is Badcattoo’s yarn in lovely pale sky blues with black, white and brown tweedy neps. And bottom left Wat Wollie’s skein in deeper hues of blue and purple, with a few brown speckles here and there.

It felt so good to be hanging out with my ‘tribe’ again for a while.

For anyone living in or near Drenthe, an overview of upcoming Wollig Landleven markets can be found here.

An Inspiring Friend

Hello!

It’s been an unsettling and busy week. Certain things have taken up so much of my attention that other things have piled up. Now what am I going to do? Rush around the house cleaning and tidying? Tackle a pile of ironing? Do some admin? Or write a blog post? Reading this, you know the answer.

Ah, it’s good to sit here, look through my photos and chat with you. Today I’m going to chat about a belated birthday visit to one of my dearest friends, who is a wonderful knitter, spinner and yarn dyer.

Shortly before leaving home, I hopped onto my bicycle for a quick visit to the flower garden just outside our village. (In case you have found my blog recently, you can read more about it here.)

Armed with a bunch of flowers and a bag filled with small birthday gifts, I set off for my friend’s place. I won’t give you a full account of my visit – you can imagine that: sitting in her garden with mugs of tea, cake, and endless talk and laughter. What I’d like to show you, is how my friend inspires me.

Last year she gave me some spinning fibres in a gradient of blues.

I spun the yarn a long time ago – looking back through my blog posts I saw that I mentioned it in August 2020. And then it stayed on the bobbin for almost a year!

I wasn’t sure what to do with it. In order to keep the gradient intact, I could do various things:

  • I could have split the fibres up in two portions and made it into a 2-ply yarn, but I didn’t. I spun it into a fairly thin single ply.
  • I could ply this single thread in on itself (aka chain plying or Navajo plying).
  • I could ply it with another thread.

Chain plying would have given me a fairly short yardage, and the possibilities for things to knit with it would be limited. So, after thinking it over for a loooooong time, I decided on the last option. I could have spun a thread to ply the gradient with myself, but I chose a commercial thread instead.

This is a lace-weight silk yarn sold as ‘Shantung Yaspee’ by two weird and wonderful Belgian guys who stock some very special yarns and fibres. (Ever heard of the fibre categories Bizaroides, Experimental Recycle Upcycling, or Brazilian Chicken?!)

My inspiring friend had used this technique before, and I was curious to see how it would work out. It was very handy that the silk yarn fitted onto the bobbin holder of my spinning wheel.

Plying these two different fibres together went very well. It gave a lovely barber pole effect at the dark end of the gradient.

At the light end, the effect was more subtle. All in all the shantung silk, with its nubs of white and royal blue, and my hand-spun merino-and-Tencel, made a lovely tweedy kind of yarn, from deep navy to start with…

… to a pale baby blue.

Here it is – 138 grams/572 m/625 yds of a merino/Tencel/silk blend…

… ready to be knit up into… something. I have a vague idea, but it’ll take a while to take shape.

I arrived at my friend’s place bearing gifts, and also left with gifts. Tidying her crafts room she came across some fibres she wasn’t going to use and thought I might be happy with. And I am!

This is what she gave me – some turquoise-and-lime wool blended with undyed silk:

And a box filled with small quantities of wool from various sheep breeds.

I think I’ll start spinning the turquoise-and-lime blend straightaway – such cheerful colours!

What with the current explosion of Covid-numbers in this country, the extreme downpours and flooding in the south and our surrounding countries, and news of unprecedented heatwaves and conflicts in other parts of the world I sometimes have the feeling that the end of the world is near.

Will spinning yarn save the world? No, of course not. What spinning (and an inspiring friend) can do, is lift my mood of gloom and doom, so that I can keep functioning and making a positive contribution, albeit in a very small way. Spinning is such a gentle, soothing thing to do. Do consider giving it a try, if you are not a spinner already.

Again, I hope you’re all safe and well. Take care!