Newt has had a couple of half-drooly, half-normal days. Today he has been in fine form with his spotted belly self – sleeping peacefully, foraging for leftovers, and then, eating barely half of his snackies. The last several days he’s been refusing to eat his veggies, so we’ve been back on the chicken / cheese routine, with a bit of cream he thoroughly enjoyed today. Hope that tomorrow’s fresh dose of Cheap Chicken Friday will entice his appetite back to normal. Or perhaps I shouldn’t fret about his “diet,” as his vet did indicate that Sir Chubbs was getting rather hefty.
Work on the next project for Major Corporation has been delayed. Again. Taking advantage of the downtime this week to continue with other client projects, juggle in teaching a Reiki for Animals class, and force myself to try to learn how to operate the spindle.
I mean, come on, if I can wield a skil saw and various other power tools (vroom, vroom!) surely I can handle rotating a small piece of wood to turn fluff into string. Right? Uhm … riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.
Part of my decision to participate in the “Tour de Fleece” (TdF) was to challenge myself. The premise of the TdF is to spin yarn every day that the Tour de France cycles. Today we were challenged to spin something difficult, as the cyclists face the Tour’s toughest mountain stage.
My mountain?
I attempted spindling. In public. Invited by an expert local spinner to bring my wheel, plus “any other fiber or projects” for “show and tell” and seated NEXT TO yet another real spinner, who was pounding rapidly and effortlessly on a cute little hitchhiker. (Note to non-spinners, she was not engaged in any wrestling ring maneuvers with freaky thumbed-out dudes. “Hitchhiker” in this case refers to an adorable little lightweight, easy to transport bit of portable spinning machinery.)
Knowing how frustrated and embarrassed I’ve been with my furtive fondling of fiber, spinning alone, behind closed curtains, or under cover of darkness at the dog park, you may understand how attempting to spin, in public, in front of real spinners, no less, may have been a wee bit of a challenge for me. A veritable mountain out of mohair, if you will.
(::giggle:: Mountains out of mohairs – sorry, had to see that again!)
I didn’t “tell” much, but I certainly “showed’ how not to spindle. I flaunted my novicity. (is that a word?) Made no attempt to try to and hide the mess – err, faux yarn – under the table. Arms flying side-to-side while attempting the long draw and control the frenzied hyper-twist without scrunching of face. Ubiquitious swearing was limited to non-verbal expressions – merely a few grimaces and grunts. Had roving slung from shoulder to shoulder in a festive garland of spinning celebration, and luscious pooflets were flying in my wake.
I managed a whole three feet!!! Roughly an inch a minute! At this rate, I’ll have completed one spindle of yarn sometime within the next 30 years!
Fortunately the real spinner was too engrossed in her smooth flying finish to even notice the pesky novice peering rudely over her shoulder, trying to figure out just HOW in the nine hells she made it look so .. so .. so easy! Did not drool on any of the real spinners’ yarn, or accidentally kick any of the other spinning wheels in residence. No real spinners or knitters were whacked with the wayward flying spindle.
And no one pointed and laughed! Well, I think I did hear some stifled laughter when I gasped in astonishment and blurted out that the last couple of inches actually looked like something resembling YARN!
Woohoo, yay, me!
Additional difficulty – carting the wheel up and down stairs, across a hot parking lot to knitting meeting, then back again. No luck with the first possible modern, temporary replacement part needed, but many words of admiration on Virginia’s elegance and beauty.
Not to mention a delightful discussion of how one spotted runty little tabby cat has continued to enrich my life with new and interesting paths and people. And poofs. Soon to resemble something akin to yarn.