Ta-da! All two pounds of fiber dyed blue and dry. Now we come to fun part. Spinning them. And spinning them ASAP.
At the time, I wanted to have all this yarn spun up by mid-October, and I still do— (I hear the rustle of calendars as you look at the date. I can dream, can’t I?) It didn’t seem so difficult at the time, but the trouble was that my usual loyal, supportive G. P. Adams & Co wheel was full of silk. And I did not have time to finish spinning that project before I began the indigo. Therefore it was time to try out the two antique spinning wheels that my father bought. Scary scary. Two unknown wheels and a deadline. I started with the one that treadled best. 
This poor wheel had literally come to us in pieces and had been put back together by my grandpa. On its maiden voyage (ha ha) it behaved well for a while, then began throwing a fit. And throwing its drive band.
When that didn’t deter me, it decided to snap the single at any and every opportunity, and if it could snap the single about two inches after I had rejoined it, that was even better! Well, I couldn’t sit around and deal with it so I put it in the corner to think over its attitude and got out the other wheel.
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I decided to go back to the yarn store so I could buy a magazine that had the tam pattern in it. (I could have copied it out of my Aunt’s magazine, but I figured I might as well buy it. That way I can have the other nice patterns, too.)
I was standing at the checkout, minding my own business, when they sucker-punched me. Well, I guess I just shouldn’t have looked down. My mistake. 
An entire shelf of fluffy gray batts. Natural grays in lights and darks. Lustrous grays. Lincoln grays. Yes, one came home with me. The fiber’s a little . . . not necessarily coarser, but more durable than most of the ones I’ve worked with before.
It’s my first Lincoln wool; I’m not quite sure what to do with it other than pet it. (And hope the little furry thing doesn’t turn out to be a Tribble.) It’s too coarse for spinning laceweight, but there’s only an ounce there, so whatever I make it’ll have to be for a small project. Maybe trim or a contrasting color for something.
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Home again among all the beautiful piles of fluffy stuff. Ahhhhh. It’s good to be back.
I took two projects along on the trip in the hope of being semi-productive. One was the drop spindle New Zealand wool that I’ve been hiding in my closet, reluctant to do. And the other was the merino/silk scarf. Only one project got done.
And it was . . .
The scarf. Now I just have to block it. I got rather good at carefully “un-knitting” after I had to bother my sister five or six times. But eventually I mastered the pattern or didn’t notice my mistakes anymore. Oh, I also had the thrilling experience of having the scarf half pulled off the needles a couple of times. And once completely. (That last time I ran to my sister. Positively ran. Well, it was more of a shame-faced shuffle. Next time I’ll be more careful when I pull a project out of its bag.)
And, on the drive home, I made a cotton washrag to scrub out my dye pots.
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