Look what I learned to do! This is what every spinner I have spoken to refers to as “designer yarn.” They are not being smart-allecky. Truly, this would crochet or knit up into a nice scarf, something very beautiful and unique. And I have been told that once spinners get really good and have all the even, thin strands of perfect looking yarn they wish that they could still create some of the funky stuff. It sells well, apparently. Come to think of it, it is something I would buy!
I also do not spin like I was taught. As with everything, I have to trudge through and find my own way. Instead of smooth, impressive motions of tapping the foot on the petal, spinning seamlessly while stretching the roving and releasing perfectly spun yard onto the bobbin, I step on the petal using my right hand to spin the wheel and get the yarn into the contraption. Then I stretch the roving. Stop. Repeat. It sounds like it would take a long time but I got this whole bobbin filled during So You Think You Can Dance. I am ever so proud.
I took the other three “skeins” (you’ll see why that is in quotes in a minute) and tied four little embroidery floss ties on them, washed them as directed, and stretched them over the back of the chairs to dry. Basking in the glow of aptitude and success, I started dreaming about how popular my yarns will be. Our blend of alpaca and wool together being called wittily, Pacywoo, as Doug named it.
I decided I’d better check how long a skein is. I stood with my mouth open at the bundles of yarn I bought. 150 yards. 200 yards. Folks, if I tied all the ends together of the yarn I made I would have 12 yards! What the…..? How on earth does one get even 100 yards and still get it to fit in the front seat of the truck? How do I get the ends together? The bobbin is full and it is probably only five yards. Oh, this is makes me anxious. I need to consult an expert!