Lamb and Frog

I mentioned a while back that my parents were getting me a spinning wheel (Ashford Traditional) for Christmas. They did. It actually arrived around Thanksgiving, but it came ‘assembly required’ and it wasn’t until January that Bill and I were ready to do the assembly. Bill did most of the hard work. I waxed parts, located hardware, and passed him tools and stuff but he read the instructions–I know, quite un-manlike, but it’s a (good) habit with him–and wielded the tools most skillfully (yes, I’m snickering too). As Ashford promised (and Evil Jamie confirmed), the wheel was easy to assemble and, in this former procedure writer’s opinion, the instructions were excellent (imagine…pictures and words).

The assembled wheel is beautiful and I spent January and most of February just admiring it. But then, sometime around Valentine’s Day (which is yet another holiday I feel absolutely uncompelled to celebrate) I decided it was time to give it a go.

I was not born a patient person. People who see me knitting and say “Oh, I would never have the patience for that…” often receive a version of “it keeps me from putting the needles into people’s eyes” in response. I’m also a pretty fast learner and I don’t really have the patience to sit in a beginning spinning class while the instructor shows each and every dumbass person how to do this or that five or six times each. Consequently, I decided that the best course of action (short of moving in with Dagmar the Enabler) would be (as I did with knitting) to just figure it out on my own (at least to start). I mean really, how hard could it be? People…women even…have been spinning for thousands of years and the wheel itself is pre-industrial technology. I fix computers for heaven’s sake! I’ve programmed computers in FORTRAN using a line editor! (If you don’t know what FORTRAN or a line editor is, consider yourself lucky). Surely I can figure this out on my own…

About now you are hearing that little voice that says, “This won’t end well.”

I started with this book and the instructions that came with the wheel:

Both are good resources but, just like reading about knitting (or dancing) will not make you a good knitter (or dancer), reading about spinning will not teach you how to spin…you have to actually work with the wheel and some fiber. Before I started with actual fiber, I practiced treadling (as recommended) with nothing on the wheel, just to get a feel for it. I also practiced treadling by winding scrap yarn onto the bobbins.

Finally, I decided I was ready for the real deal and set to work with some taupe-colored Coopworth bright and early one Saturday morning. Lesson Learned #1: Practice treadling is a worthwhile exercise, but completely freaking inadequate for figuring out the actual tension necessary for the drive belt (what spins the wheel and the flyer and, consequently, what puts the twist in the fiber) and the bobbin brake (what controls how fast the twisted fiber winds onto the bobbin after the wheel and flyer mechanism put the twist in it) once you start working with actual fiber. I stopped and started and stopped and started and tweaked the drive belt and tweaked the bobbin brake (Scotch tension) and, after a couple of grueling hours…decided I needed a guru. Dagmar lives on the other side of town (and she does have her own life) so I did the next best thing…YouTube. Man, I love YouTube. I watched several videos of spinning instruction and, while they didn’t make me a better spinner, they did reassure me that the problems I was having were pretty typical for a newbie.

So back to the wheel I went. I worked at it all day (seriously…eight hours or more). I took breaks when I got frustrated, but I kept at it. My patience was helped by many years of dance training (one of many reasons electives are useful). I was able to reassure myself that I wasn’t doing anything really fundamentally ‘wrong’ and that the problems were the result of a lack of muscle memory and coordination that would be overcome by more work. I spent most of the day adjusting the wheel tension, figuring out what to do with my hands, and trying to keep my hands and feet going at the same time…in a predictable rhythm. By the end of the day I had half a bobbin full of really lumpy yarn…underspun (or unspun) in spots, overspun (twirlier than a pig’s tail) in others. I can’t really say I had fun…but I felt that the time was well spent and resolved to try again in another week.

The following week went much better. I knew where the drive belt and bobbin tension needed to be (and the drive belt stays put pretty well from one day to the next anyway) and was able to sit down, adjust the tension and get to work. The yarn was still a lumpy mess, but I spun a bobbin and a half in just a few hours (including breaks).

I spun from this half-pound bag of Coopworth for one more week. I made a helluva mess (and not much actual yarn) out of it but, in the process, learned that I needed to do a better job of pre-drafting the fiber. Lesson Learned #2: The less coordinated you are at the wheel, the more pre-drafting you should do. I resolved to do a better job of pre-drafting the next batch (half a pound of cream-colored Coopworth). And, by this time, not only was spinning starting to feel like fun, I was beginning to feel the weight of yet another fiber monkey on my back (not that there’s anything wrong with that).

Note: Look closely at the picture, above…I finally found a good use for my (really low-mileage) yoga mat.

To be continued…