. . . of holiday bustling, band concert, piano recital, last minute knitting for gifts, the crazy days of school before it breaks for vacation, and everyone in the family catching some bug or other . . . I have been spinning this wool . . . and loving it.
Its gray-brown oatmeal like color is soothing, as is the squashy softness of the finished yarn. It's a mix Targhee and Clun Forest wool (doesn't that bring up thoughts of ancient woodland creatures wandering through the woods?), bought at some local fiber gathering a while back. Even the need to pick out bits of vegetation along the way is making me happy, connections to the real sheep who wore this coat in some nearby meadow.
I've said this before, that spinning feels like coming home.
I'm grateful that there are so many ways to make- spinning, knitting, stitching, etc. I couldn't pick a favorite, they all fill some need for expression and/or self-care.
I'm thinking a lot about the word "share", what all it means, and how it could build deeper connections.
The conversation around it is just beginning in my head, still quite blurry and fuzzy. Hopefully, it can be twisted and plied for strength, knit or woven into shape, and used to take care of some things, to keep them safe and warm.
