I don’t fear committment. I do, however, often loathe the thought of it. That’s all I’ll say since to really write about that will take a lot more thought and concentration than I can give right now. But the context I’ve been thinking about it in has been spinning.
I committed to spinning by spending a whack of cash on my wheel. I did feel a twinge of fear about that, since I’d only spun on a wheel for a total of about twenty minutes when I decided to part with that cash. I had high hopes. I wanted a new fiber hobby that’s separate enough from work that I could really relax with it at the end of the day. Wheels are quiet. Yarn is good.
I picked up my Joy last Tuesday and spent that evening assembling the few parts that needed attention. It’s a thing of beauty. Then I tied on my first leader – the first step I’d never done myself before. What ensued were several consecutive evenings of confusion but, thankfully, little frustration. It took me a couple of nights to narrow down one problem to the bobbin tension not being tight enough. After that I was finally able to actually spin a poor excuse for yarn onto the bobbin. The next night I fiddled with wheel tension until I found a match for the amount of fiber I was drafting and the speed I was comfortable treadling at. The night after that I started drafting more evenly.
It’s only been a week, and I’m happy with my progress. Almost more than that, I’m pleased with myself for taking half an hour each night to spin, especially on that second night after the first was pretty much a disaster. Now that I’m doing everything slightly more effortlessly, I’m discovering my hopes for spinning were not unfounded. I enjoy the quiet and the smooth motion. I stand up decompressed after a day of work, ready to chill out for the rest of the evening.
I still have a bit more to do before this bobbin is finished, and I’m both excited by the milestone and itchy to start another so I can go that next step into making yarn worth using. And plying. I can’t wait to ply.
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