I like to test the spindles that I make -- they require gentle fiddling for balance and a good feel. I promised myself I wouldn't play with this spindle too long, but it's now got some very fine Cormo, alpaca, silk carded fibre on it and damnit, it's just so nice to spin. A fine Cormo thread? What to do with it? Ieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Little lace spindle. (sigh) And no time to spin at present.
Personal Blog, star date 1234. A very rude gentleman stood in my market stall and told me that I didn't paint fibre. I'm not sure what he was aiming at, but he, being a man, decided that it couldn't be done. Am I getting sexist in my old age (?), but damn, the old feminist in me saw a BIG RED FLAG waving around. I couldn't wait for him to leave. And I wish I could have had a snappy retort, but it was the end of the long market day. I smiled and prayed he would go away.
I really can't remember a woman standing in my shop and telling me what I cannot do. To be fair, I'm sure it has happened, but I'm blanking at the moment. So apologies to all my male friends. Doofuses come in all shapes, sizes, and genders.
I'm sure it is quite unoriginal of me to ponder on the spinning mania that seems to be around of late. Are we all stuck at home, finding ways to amuse ourselves? Craving nostalgia? I remember a few years ago, someone asked me if I wanted to learn to spin -- this was someone I worked with -- and I immediately said no! I had a fear that a new fibre-related activity would get swallowed in my work. And become something I was responsible for on the duties list.
Still trying to sequester my spinning fun from my knitting and yarn work. The thought of spinning, my new hobby, getting absorbed into my business makes me rather sad.
So, why am I meeting new spinners lately?