There are four or five wool winders in my home, which is not as extravagant as it sounds: they are all different, some quite unique. None of them are set up at the moment but still (after the last move a year ago) tucked away in boxes and suitcases because they require space to operate and it seems more trouble to seek one out than it does to simply hang the skein on a hook on the door nearest the ball winder, unwind two or three or more loops at a time and let the ball winder do its magic. (I was well into my forties and had been playing with fibre for almost forty years before I discovered such a thing as a ball winder existed; I still think of them as magical).
Today, wanting to turn a small skein of an amber chenille into a nifty, neat center-pull ball I untwisted the skein and then did something I have done in the past but had forgotten about: I walked around the house unwinding the skein completely and then popped an end in the ball winder and wound it up.
It got stuck twice and I had to rescue the yarn from under the feet of a giraffe (he came home with me from a garage sale - see tomorrow's blog) but mostly it was a smooth flowing endeavour and had the pleasurable aspect of being a mobile activity: standing and unwinding is okay but strolling around the house and leaving a trail is more of an adventure.
The chenille was wanted to experiment with crochet. I have a feeling I can bridge the gap in myself that feels creative with knitting but more or less boring with crochet. Had a thought spring to mind about how to do this so got a crochet hook and the first free yarn I saw which was a bit of a prickly twine; took it out on deck and started to trot out the thought but soonest became aware that the twine was very insistently aggressive and I already have one piece of fibre somewhere in my hand - so I stopped. Was motivated enough by the foray to seek out some reasonable yarn and thus the chenille.
However supper nudged into the space. Will report on the crochet in the future.
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