Spinning

I recently acquired a spinning wheel from a lady - curiously through taking to a stranger in a pub. It was in a state of slight neglect, but after a few squirts of Mr Sheen and a smartening up with an Ashford maintenance kit, I am now the owner of a dark-stained Ashford Traditional. I confess, I'm not sure whether this spinning lark is my cup of tea, but I'm willing to give it a fair try, so today the wheel and I joined a couple of friends and trekked along the A59 to Gisburn to a spinning guild friendship day.




Once we finally found the village hall, we were greeted by lovely ladies and had tea and biscuits pressed upon us. Moving into the main hall, I was amazed at the number of people - men and women - who were sitting in companiable chaos amongst an amazing collection of spinning wheels and spindles. I finally learned the basics of spinning, and now have a small length of Corriedale spun onto a bobbin. To be honest, it probably ranges in thickness from laceweight to aran and back again, and in some parts looks like a coiled spring, but the point is that I did it myself.




I am proud!





Despite remaining unconvinced that spinning is for me, I splashed out on some merino fleece dyed a lovely teal colour, for practicing with, and came home with a sense of achievement. Apparently my local spinning guild meets every month, so maybe I'll make it along there on Saturday, and see whether I'm in it for the long haul or not.