Silly things to do on a walk: No. 1
Imagine walking across this vast field on a lovely sunny afternoon. Be invisible (it's your imagination, you can do it) so as not to disturb two people having an intense discussion, one waving something in its hand in the air. Drift closer and discover it's us, me and him, trying to work out what/where that distinctive 'lump' on the horizon might be. Could it be the theoretically visible Sharpenhoe Clappers? We need a compass, but haven't got one. So I pull out my iPhone, download and install GPS software from iTunes (the waving about was trying to get the best signal), then we waste 10 minutes trying to walk fast enough to get the GPS compass to pay attention to us. FAIL. Double FAIL, once for being sad enough to download and install software to use on my phone when we're meant to be walking in the countryside, and again for enjoying the experience and thinking it perfectly justifiable.
Here's another kind of fail... I am rapidly concluding I don't like spinning angora. The end result is soft (the Fetchings I knitted from a handspun Wooly Rabbit angora blend are lovely to wear), but the stuff sticks together even when it's not felted. I find it very difficult to draft; even semi-longdraw is proving problematic. Which is a nuisance, as I'd planned to spin it from the fold. I need to practice that.
But isn't it pretty? The brown is slightly pinker than I like, but it still reminds me of the sea washing over pebbles and sand. I just have to finish spinning it at home because two people at the spinning group are allergic to angora. It's part of one of Spindlefrog's Spinner's Sets, roughly 6 oz of luxury fibres dyed in the same colourway. Mine is angora, cashmere, silk, baby camel, baby alpaca, kid mohair. Here's the rest of the fibres, all their potential as yet untapped.
More foolishness. I'm beginning to realise my handspun falls into two quite clearly defined categories. One is
WOW!! I can't believe I made that. It's far to beautiful to knit. No pattern does it justice. The second is
Ho Hum. Look at this, and that... nope. I can't knit that, it's not good enough for any pattern.
Which is really silly. I know it's silly. I'm too new at this to expect perfection and yet, I hurt a bit when I don't achieve it every time. Look at this:
That's about 490m of singles spun from two 'Spanish Moss' Abby batts, part of a swap with Fernmonkey on Ravelry. It's a lovely silvery grey-green, the singles are reasonably soft, not over-twisted. I think it will make a reasonable, perhaps even a nice shawl (I'm casting on for one from the Icelandic shawl book Thrihyrnur og langsjol: Three-cornered and long shawls). But I feel dissatisfied with every inch of yarn passing through my fingers; it's too thin or too thick, there's a slub of silk... I really do have to get over this. It's MY OWN YARN, for pity's sake. I made it. It's a miraculous thing, the product of my own hands. I should love every inch of it.
Grrr. Perhaps I need chocolate?
No. I just need to remind myself that, barring accidents and other unpleasantnesses, I AM GOING TO SOAR!!