When I say spinning I mean wool. Or silk. Or any other fiber. Not cycles. For me, cycling is an asthma attack waiting to happen. I’ll stick to my leisurely strolls on the treadmill.
No, I mean spinning fluffy fleece into beautiful thread and yarn. After a crappy day it helps me relax. There’s a certain rhythm to treadling to turn the wheel and feeding the roving through the oriface onto the bobbin. It’s soothing. It’s also a great time for me to plot out a story or a scene, and talk to my characters. Quill insists that living for five years in a house full of working girls has almost completely cured him of his shyness. Ellie needs a strong man to defend her now, and he, by golly, is that man. Ellie thinks he needs to back off a little. Yes, she needs him and the other wolves to help her get her son back, but she knows how to cook a meal over a fire, and doesn’t need his help to do it, thank you. If a spark leaps out and leaves a small burn on her hand she can handle it. Well … maybe he could kiss it better if he insists.
Here is a pic of my wheel. It is a castle style wheel from Kromski. her name is Zoya. I have commissioned a handmade saxony style wheel from a lovely gentleman in Wisconsin and I hope to have it by the end of February. He says it will get done when it gets done. Here is what I am currently spinning, a beautiful sparkly wool/silk blend in teals.