Each year, my friend Lynn goes to Maine to check up on the family home, visit relatives, and explore the wild fiber ranges of the northeast.
A couple of years ago, I asked her to pick up a drop spindle for me if she saw one that seemed to fit. My friend Carol lent me a spinning wheel years ago, but when I realized that this new spinning fancy could take over my life, I fled. Then, one of my patterns (the Erratic cowl) got accepted by Spin-Off Magazine. I felt guilty. I regretted my decision to abandon spinning. I investigated drop spindles as they seemed a small, portable way to start really engaging in the spinning that I needed to learn.
Lynn returned from Maine with a drop spindle. I ran home, pulled some dyed roving out of my stash, and began looking up videos on YouTube to find some instruction.
My first efforts looked about as good as the first spinning that I’d done on the wheel. Soon, I abandoned the spinning since my knitting left little time for playing the field.
Now that my hands are recovering, I have nothing but time. I thought about drop spinning and if it might not take different hand muscles to make that happen. After making a short attempt, I decided that this craft wouldn’t harm my recovery. So, I’m continuing to work on my cross-stitch, but for a little while each evening, I am spinning on my drop spindle.
Asiago doesn’t seem to mind the spinning in the same way he does my knitting.
Perhaps he thinks it won’t last.