"…spinning wheel got to go ‘round…"

Like my kids used to say “it just gots to.” She sits in the corner, luring me from things I have to do, should do, want to do and she won’t listen to any excuses: “Get over here now and start spinning!” It does no good to tell Matilda the Wheel (as in Waltzing Matilda” because when she is on a tear, she dances all over the floor) that I have many other pressing things to do, like finish a wedding shawl and a crazy quilt by September, continue knitting a comfort shawl for an ailing friend, clean house, take a nap, eat. She is very adamant about her position in the hierarchy of “hobbies” and somehow ended up thinking she is #1 (spinning), followed by #2 (plying) and by #3, unspinning and unplying. The rest of the hierarchy she couldn’t care less about as long as I pay dutiful attention and spend enough time spinning, et. al. I can do all the other necessary things in odd moments when not using the wheel.

And you know what? I agree with her! As much as I dearly love knitting I never thought I would find another craft I would love as much; spinning is it. And strangely enough, even though Matilda is so demanding and never stops nagging me, I don’t feel enslaved to her. In fact, after lots of practice, I’m beginning to feel we have become friends rather than adversaries (Why do you keep breaking the yarn, Matilda???) even to the point of producing a yarn that I actually want to knit.

My first attempts at getting to know Matilda the Wheel were pathetic. I think I threw out as much ruined fiber as I actually managed to spin into a sort-of useable yarn—it ended up being crocheted into a floor runner. I am fortunate in that I found a shop that sells shopworn top and roving for $1 a pound so I had almost endless supplies of differing  fibers to play with and now with some practice behind me, I can say that my early failures were not due to using “inferior” fiber, but rather to my own hasty nature and a lack of understanding of what I was working with. They say that spinning is like yoga, very relaxing. I may be getting there, but at first, I sat at the wheel drafting out too thick, then too thin bits of fiber, watching them either blob up or be so thin that they broke from the stress of being spun, and gritting my teeth throughout, literally. I clench my jaw when I’m under stress, and I had a pretty sore mouth for quite a while. Did Matilda the Wheel care? Not a bit, she just sat there doing her thing and made no attempt to help me at all!

But now I think we understand each other…Matilda the Wheel still sits there unmindful of my struggles, but I am becoming used to her ways and know how to get around her. However, I may have to remain vigilant with her to make sure she doesn’t sneak a friend in when my back is turned.

Happy Fibering