Funemployment mittens

(Mmm, toasty)
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I finished these puppies last night. Yarn is handspun, Navajo-plied; finished yarn is about a DK size. Needle was size 5, cast on 36 at the cuff. There's probably enough leftover orange yarn for a hat.

Store-bought mittens never fit me right- I have small, skinny hands and stupidly long thumbs. My hands always feel adrift inside them. But these fit.

Spring cleaning this year includes donating most of my stash of commercial yarn. To lighten the load and remove further temptation, I've decided to only knit with yarn I've personally hand-spun. It keeps the stash under control, is super-cheap, and limits me. I have the utmost respect for limits. No, I'll go further and say I truly love limits. They free me up from too much choice, which I've always found crippling.

Funemployment is an excellent opportunity to exercise the voluntary simplicity muscles. Well, ok- I suppose the simplicity in this case is actually semi-voluntary. But still, it is liberating.

My little drop spindle

(happy little drop spindle)
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I learned to spin 20 years ago, when I was an undergrad. I learned on an old clunker of a wheel held together with kite string and spit. It was a real piece. After college, I didn't spin for a long time.

Three years ago, I got bit by the spinning bug again at a Michigan wool festival. Now I spin almost every day. Recently I started teaching spinning at a nearby knit shop. I just really love spinning. Knitting is work, but spinning is restful. And it's so arcane. For me, the more arcane it is the better I like it.

I have two spinning wheels, but lately I'd much rather use this drop spindle. It's a cheap student spindle; I needed to learn how to spin with it if I was going to teach it in my class. But now I'm utterly addicted and I use the blasted thing everywhere. I spin with it in my weekly knitting group. I spin with it at the movies. I even tried spinning in the car over the weekend, just to see if I could (as a passenger, not while driving).

If I'm spinning in public, the spindle itself gets long, mesmerized stares. Sometimes I can tell they have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. But usually, no one even notices I'm doing it. In the past, I'd take my collapsible spinning wheel to weekly knit group, but we meet in a coffee shop and it felt like showboating. This little spindle is such a subtle thing. I spin between my legs when I'm sitting. To look at me, you'd just think I was sitting in a rather un-lady-like position, and doing something weird with my hands (hard to tell exactly what).

The yarn in the picture is from the drop spindle, but it's 3-plied with a technique called Navajo plying. Picture a really big chain stitch, the very same stitch crocheters are first taught. Except, your hands are the crochet needle, and the big chain stitch is spinning onto a bobbin on a spinning wheel. When using this plied yarn for knitting, the technique works best with very soft fiber such as Shetland, because spinning this way makes a hard (though very beautiful) yarn. Traditionally, this yarn is used for the hidden warp in Navajo rugs. It's amazingly strong.

The fruit of this drop spindle will eventually become a fisherman's sweater for my husband. The sample in the picture is from the Navajo yarn next to it. The pattern is just so crisp.

Yes, it will take a long time to make this sweater, but I'm ok with that.

Hand spun yarn

(1400 yards of two-ply- destined to become a Gansey)
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I've been spinning a lot lately. I love spinning. I first learned how in college, but I picked it up again about three years ago after a long time away. It's mostly a very soothing thing to do (well, unless the roving is crappy-- lumpy, oily, badly carded, full of vegetable matter). Honestly, I prefer it to knitting. Knitting requires far more brain cells, which I don't always have in ready supply at the end of the day.

Starting in January, I'm teaching a spinning class twice a week, and I've been working through the verbiage of the process in my head. Spinning can get very technical, but beginners can't be bothered with crimp-to-staple ratios and other such nonsense- heck, I don't bother with them, either. New spinners just want to make enough yarn to knit a hat or a scarf. So, how to explain what is really very non-verbal? What's important? I do have a handle on a few points.

Pre-drafting is important. Pre-drafting is loosening the fibers before spinning them into yarn. It's probably the single most important thing you can do before spinning.

Treadling as slowly as possible, and in rhythm, is also important. I was told by an experienced spinner to sing a song, such as "Happy Birthday", very, very slowly. Since I can't carry a note in a bucket, I'll probably tap a stick on the floor a la an old-school ballet teacher. And anyway, the first class will be taught on drop spindles.

Sending the new spinners home with some kind of yarn from the very first class is important, too. Even if it's just one measly yard. The first yarn a spinner makes is precious stuff.

I'm open to suggestions. How do you teach something that is really rather intuitive?