18 January 2012
It was so nice of Jack to get me a pair of antique (but still very useful!) wool carders for our anniversary. Other than several sets of knitting needles, electric shears, bags and bags of wool from Magnus, Cardigan, Milly and Matilda and a Turkish drop spindle gifted to me by my mom over the holidays, carders were the only link in the chain preventing me going from wiry hair off a ruminant to a handmade sweater.
I plunged right in. Carding isn't the most stimulating thing I've ever done, but it's actually kind of relaxing, like brushing out an animal without any of the struggle.
After a few attempts, I successfully got the fibers all lying the same direction, removed from the carders and gently rolled into a rolag. I made a few to get used to do it, hoping that I'd be able to do it faster the next time I tried. Those wispy rolags I made will make feet of spun yarn. They were put together with scant morsels of wool, which means the pounds and pounds of untouched fiber remaining will make more yarn than I'll ever know what to do with.
However, it was an interesting experience. I told Jack it was something I'm glad I didn't have to do--if I wanted wool socks, I could go to the store and buy them rather than debating whether or not my feet would freeze off in the night should I choose not to spin and knit socks by the fire.