I Got Da Blues

The dog died. She was a noble dog. So I decided to spin something I thought she would like. This is 50% bunny, 50% alpaca. And I'll go so far as to say it is part of my stash. Now, a fiber lover's stash is a lovely thing indeed. I own lots of fiber. It is carefully quadroned off in bins that are carefully labelled: "Ready to Card", "Yarn", "For Sale". Generally, my fiber moves from "Ready to Card" to "For Sale". I haul it to guild every month, and if it doesn't sell, then the next time I run out of fiber to spin, I start spinning up from the "For Sale" bin. But this bunny stuff... well, it is dedicated to a noble dog that died. So I'm spinning away, hoping to make enough to have a sweater made out of it.

This is the bunny fiber, drying in my garage. I dyed it cornflower blue, which is just lovely, if you ask me. I blended in a lot of white bunny fiber, and white alpaca that was also dyed cornflower blue.

 

I am an incredibly methodical spinner. I bag up my carded fiber, and then I spin that fiber until it's all gone. I use all my drop spindles, and in this case, I've plied all the yarn as I work my way through it. At this point, I'm running out of drop spindles. I've probably got a week of spinning left to go. And I'm still not sure that I'll have enough yarn to make a sweater. I'm not very good at judging. I'm a little worried that I shouldn't have plied the fiber, but we'll see.

The only other fiber that is officially in my stash is some amazing caramel colored huacaya and suri fiber that I bought from Kristi at East West Alpacas. I want to spin that single ply and then make my husband a - dare I say this out loud? - a poncho. Now, I love my husband dearly, but I have to admit that as we get older, the both of us are losing our senses when it comes to what we'll wear out in public. His favorite outfit to wear on a cold winter night, as he sets off to karate, is a blue and white serape, his Indiana Jones hat, and his karate gi. And now he has a big long stick that he carries. Can you picture what he looks like in your mind? He's such a big man that I don't think anyone has ever had the guts to say anything to him.

And me? Well, I wander the world in hand-knit socks with sandels from September through April, because it seems to me that if someone went to all the work of knitting me socks, then the world should get to see them. But they're kind of warm, which explains the sandels. We won't talk about my high water pants (the better to see the socks, I assert). Interestingly enough, no one has ever dared say anything to me about my wardrobe choices, so perhaps we're not as eccentric as I'm thinking. 

nahh.