wool wheel


Never ending project is finished!

It’s made of a BFL roving that I got from Pigeonroof on etsy :) 

I made one skein a two-ply and after I filled a bobbin with that I got bored so I chain-plied the rest of my singles for funsies.I honestly like the chain-plied one a little better but I chain-ply everything and wanted to switch it up. 

This is honestly probably the finest and most consistent I have ever spun. I didn’t even count the yardage because I knew I would get bored and lose count. 

listen. i just moved out of austin. the hipster capital of the world. i hated 97% of the men in austin because they all have their fcukin. hipster beards and stupid ass haircuts and they write in their goddamn moleskin journals at one of the five million indie coffee shops on every corner so when i say i am so attracted to tom payne in all of his manbun, bearded, flannel-wearing glory it goes against EVERYTHING I STAND FOR. i hated all the guys who looked like him in austin!! and yet here i am!!!!!!! he could take me out on a date to a craft beer tasting and show up barefoot with a wool spinning wheel and start making his own sweater with a hand stitched picture of wes anderson on the front and i’d be like sign me tf up bitch!!!!! guess i need to start drinking french press coffee out of mason jars bc this is what i’m like now!!!!!!

One time, investigating in the backyard of our house in Temuco the tiny objects and minuscule beings of my world, I came upon a hole in one of the boards of the fence. I looked through the hole and saw a landscape like that behind our house, uncared for, and wild. I moved back a few steps, because I sensed vaguely that something was about to happen. All of a sudden a hand appeared — a tiny hand of a boy about my own age. By the time I came close again, the hand was gone, and in its place there was a marvelous white sheep.

The sheep’s wool was faded. Its wheels had escaped. All of this only made it more authentic. I had never seen such a wonderful sheep. I looked back through the hole, but the boy had disappeared. I went into the house and brought out a treasure of my own: a pinecone, opened, full of odor and resin, which I adored. I set it down in the same spot and went off with the sheep.

To feel the intimacy of brothers is a marvelous thing in life. To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life. But to feel the affection that comes from those whom we do not know, from those unknown to us, who are watching over our sleep and solitude, over our dangers and our weaknesses — that is something still greater and more beautiful because it widens out the boundaries of our being, and unites all living things.

That exchange brought home to me for the first time a precious idea: that all of humanity is somehow together…

It won’t surprise you then that I attempted to give something resiny, earth-like, and fragrant in exchange for human brotherhood. Just as I once left the pinecone by the fence, I have since left my words on the door of so many people who were unknown to me, people in prison, or hunted, or alone.

—  Pablo Neruda

Pretty awesome time at the renaissance fair for the first time with my cousins! Got to see many things I fell in love with, even bumping into someone gracefully spinning yarn! (A yarn fairy perhaps? Either way I wanted to join her!)

And I purchased a book that has an interesting story to it when I got it. I returned to the book shop that I had my heart set on, wanting to purchase a leather oak tree journal and found one left to which the owner replies with it in hand, “This is the only existing oak tree journal left and it is calling onto only you.” So I HAD to grab it! He continued to say that the oak tree on it symbolizes ‘One with knowledge of the oak’ or 'Wise person of the oak’, knowing that it was perfect for me. I plan to keep it close to me and record my crochet patterns onto it for generations of craft knowledge.

In saying that, with that experiences and the entire visit was a fun role-playing experience and a ton of fun which I plan to repeat again next year and possibly participate in the festivities too, meaning maybe sell some crochet-related items next year or become a [yarn fairy] entertainer!



We have 17 Shetland sheep at Calypso.  They earn their keep by providing beautiful fleeces so that we can create wooly wonders.  Wool is a big deal at Calypso: Susan and her daughters are incredible fiber artists and have much to teach the FTP participants.   In the spring we watch Tom shear the flock, then later in fall we learn how to wash, dye, card, spin and knit the wool.  It’s incredible to be a part of the process from start to finish!   And to be able to visit & say hi to the sheep who’s wool you are wearing!!

Don’t you just hate it when your knitting yarn rolls under the sofa and comes out covered in all that fluff you’ve been meaning to vacuum out?
Plonk this handthrown pottery yarn bell over your ball of wool and it will put a stop to all that.
Also useful for keeping the cat away from the wool.

My spinning wheel! I think I posted pictures of it before but they were terrible. You can really see everything I did to it in this one. I painted all the gears on, used a clock key for the tension knob with a chain instead of the fishing line stuff that came with it, I put clock hands on the top spinny thing flyer (thank you ladytemeraire). I put metal mesh (that I painted black) on the foot boards, I put an extra hook on the other side of the middle bar, I huge a tiny Jon Snow from another little hook, and I added a tiny gear to the spinning wheel on the logo. 

After I finished painting everything, I coated it a couple times with Danish Oil too.

Oh, and I put battery powered LEDs under the board that the extra bobbns sit on. I’ve never actually used the lights for anything but it looks really cool when they’re on. Originally I wanted to have them on the back of the wheel but the batter pack was too heavy and it would have thrown off the spinning.

St Distaff’s Day - 7th January

Today is St Distaff’s Day (or Rock day) - the day when women returned to work after Christmas.  Distaff isn’t the name of a saint - its the conical tool these women are holding, used to hold unspun flax or wool, and was used with a spindle or rock (the weight they have in their other hand) to spin wool before spinning wheels were invented.  In the medieval period (and probably for thousands of years before that), women of all classes were expected to contribute to their household by spinning (as most items of clothing would be made from scratch in the household), and it was a very time-consuming activity: women were often expected to bring their distaff and spindle to social gatherings to carry on their work there.

During the 12 days of Christmas and Epiphany, women would take a holiday from spinning (but as we all know, for most women there would still be food to cook and pots to wash and children to be cared for and many other household tasks, and many women would also have had to look after farm animals - so they wouldn’t exactly be free from work!).  There is evidence that in some parts of Britain, spinning and weaving during the Christmas period was thought to invite bad luck; an idea that came from pre-Christian Anglo-Saxon and Norse midwinter celebrations, where certain kinds of work were seen as being disrespectful of the gods during the feast.

On 7th January women would resume spinning, weaving, knitting, and needlework, and any other parts of their work that they had stopped during the festival.  However, a full return to work would be resisted: for some women this would be a day of spending time with other women, catching up with each other while they worked, and playing lighthearted games.  For others, St Distaff’s Day was a time for rowdy behaviour and playing tricks:

Partly work and partly play
You must on St. Distaffs Day:
From the plough soon free your team;
Then cane home and fother them:
If the maids a-spinning go,
Burn the flax and fire the tow.
Bring in pails of water then,
Let the maids bewash the men.
Give St. Distaff’ all the right:
Then bid Christmas sport good night,
And next morrow every one
To his own vocation.’

St Distaff’s Day, Or, The Morrow After Twelfth Day - Robert Herrick - 17th C

St Distaff’s Day mostly died out during the industrial revolution, although it was celebrated to some extent by workers in the lace industry in places like Nottingham well into the 19th century.  More recently, the festival has been revived in some places as a celebration of textiles crafts.

leni-ba  asked:

Prompt-a-thon: Neal isn't that impressed with his father's girlfriend (until sth changes his mind?)

Ficlet #3

A/N: Thank you for your prompt! This takes place immediately after they return from Neverland. Besides the brief moment on the docks, Neal has only ever interacted with Belle as Lacey. From Neal’s POV with a touch of angst and LOTS of Papafire feels.

Originally posted by woobierumple

Neal crossed his arms over his chest, frowning as his father arranged a bouquet of red chrysanthemums and ferns in a crystal vase. Here he was, the great and powerful Rumplestiltskin—humming to himself as he fiddled with a bunch of flowers.

“Who are those for?” Neal asked, knowing the answer. Jealous rage burned in his gut.

“For Belle, of course.”

“Of course,” Neal muttered.

He supposed he should be grateful to her for staying behind and protecting Storybrooke while everyone else had gone to Neverland to rescue his sorry ass.

As they’d disembarked from the Jolly Roger earlier, Neal had suppressed a shudder and fought to be as welcoming as possible. At least today she’d been wearing a coat to cover up whatever disastrous ensemble she’d put on that morning. Resigned, Neal had offered Belle French his kindest smile. With his son on one arm and his girlfriend on the other, Pop looked happier than he’d ever seen him.

Still, what was so great about Belle French anyway?

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