Time Weigheth Heavily

Well, it’s not so much the time that weigheth heavily as it is the seeming lack thereof. (Daily dose of Old English has now been administered.)

As for me, well, I’m up to my elbows in a pile of spinning projects. Lovely projects, for lovely people, but there seem to be tons of them.

First off, I’ve been working on spinning up some Aussie fur for a good friend. (Yes, dog fur.) It’s really soft and fluffy, and has been washed. Definite bonus. I’m spinning it on a spiffy new gadget I’ll have to tell you all about in a future blog post.

Theoretically this yarn will end up as a two-ply fingering weight, although there will be some DK weight bits in there, given the nature of the fiber. I carded the fur into batts, but it’s so fine that it spins more like a cloud, which results in a lot of difficulty keeping things even. And there seems to be different lengths of fur in there, which also makes things interesting.

All in all, it’s spinning up to be an interesting taupe color. Almost like sand.

Another fiber project I’m working away on is some more indigo merino. Remember the indigo merino from last year? This is more of that. Thankfully it’s going much quicker this time, although it’s having to share space on the wheel with a different project.

It’s been audio book city around here as I work away on all this. Nothing like a good audio book to make spinning go faster! Or at least, to keep me sitting there longer.

The third project, and the biggest, is some wool that I’m washing and spinning for a lovely new friend. Her parents have some Corriedale sheep, and she and I worked out a swap where I would wash and spin a portion of their fleeces for her, and then I could keep the rest of the fleece for myself. And, given how it’s behaving, I’m really excited. The fleece is gorgeous. But you don’t just have to take my word for that, you can see it.

It washes up really white, and has a great feel to it.

It also cards into beautiful, fluffy batts. I’ve already spun one and a half of those little fellas into the first skein of probably eight or nine at least. A nice two-ply light worsted.

I’m happy to report that the fleece is well worth any hassle to work with. Including the somewhat amusing event that occurred on my hour’s drive to pick up the raw fleeces.

Picture me in my father’s little blue Honda, trucking happily down the highway with my Google Map printout. No cell phone, but I had directions, so who cared? I followed the map step by step, turned off the highway, and started along a nice little country road. Then a sign loomed up.

Pavement Ends.

The last thing I wanted to do was drive my dad’s car down a little one-lane gravel road, but there was no obvious alternative. I drove along, watching the mailboxes for the right number and keeping an eye out for any enormous pick-up trucks who might want to pass me.

Then the road got narrower. And suddenly it ceased to be a road and became a grand canyon with a rushing river in the bottom of it.

Okay, so it was more like a normal creek bed, but the road tilted down into the water, then emerged on the other side in a somewhat muddy slope.
I am not a country driver. I am a city girl. And I am a city girl who knows better than to take her father’s car through water, thank you very much.

Hope springing eternal, I turned the car around and headed back up the road to see if I had missed the number. Turns out I hadn’t, but the road continued on the other side of where I got on it, so I crossed the pavement road and checked out the other side. The numbers decided to go the wrong direction. And then that road T’d with another road and hope was squelched.

I had no cell phone. I had no map. (Well, I had a map, but I was off the edge of it.) There was nothing for it but to turn back around and pray I could survive.

Now, thank God, the second time I showed up at the creek there was a very nice lady in her four-wheeler who assured me that the water was not as deep as it looked, and that as long as I “stayed far away from that big rock there” I’d be okay. (There were three big rocks sticking out the water, and I never did figure out which one she meant.) So, with a deep breath, more prayer, and a trembling accelerator, I splashed in. And across. And up the other side. (You may sing the “Hallelujah Chorus” here.)

Wet, muddy, and gravel-dusted, I set off along the still-unpaved road to find the farm. The road went on for a bit, then suddenly dead-ended at a nice, paved road, and the sign informed me that the road I wanted continued to the left. Through lovely suburbia. And easy roads. And a little way down that road, there was the farm!

If my web map had routed me one more road down the main highway and come at the farm from the other side, I would have had completely normal driving the whole way.

As I said before, though, the whole trip was worth the wool and getting to make a new friend. And maybe God decided I needed off-pavement driving practice, who knows? I do think next time, however, I will make sure I have a cell phone.

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