The future blooms in warm soapy water
What spinning treasure does the year ahead hold for you?
I so enjoy this time of year—it holds so much promise. As the New Year starts, I embrace it as chance to start fresh and experience renewal after working hard. The end of the year is always busy around the Spin-Off
office as we tie up loose ends and plan for the next year. And we have great things in store for next year! We can't wait to share our upcoming issues with focuses on spinning businesses and historical spinning, along with new twists in our annual equipment and natural fiber issues.
It is also the time of year when I usually start new spinning projects.
When my husband and I moved into our home seven and a half years ago, his parents gave us an old steamer trunk with leather belt straps and rusting locks that is lined with cedar. It is where I store my fiber stash. When I've spun all my fiber for my current project and am looking to start the next, I look through the stash of fiber in the steamer trunk.
Each carefully stored bag contains memories from over the years—fiber festivals, gifts from friends, and virtual shopping trips on Etsy.com. I get a chance to indulge in those memories again and imagine what the fiber will become—will it be a superfine laceweight yarn for a lacy shawl (I've just been giving in to my desire to make really fine yarns lately), or a chunky sportweight for a quick hat?
I love holding that promise in my hands—feeling the fiber, the aroma of the wool, and the hues that stir up so many memories. I love looking closely at the scrumptious blends of colors that remind me of early morning light or delicate blossoms on a vine in the summer. I love imagining how the fiber will feel as it is tugged from my hands onto the wheel, how that yarn will sit pretty in little rows on my bobbin until I ply it, and how it will bloom in the warm, soapy water when I wash it after skeining it. Sometimes little hands help me swish the skeins in the water and little feet wait eagerly while I roll it up in towels to help me press (or stomp) out the water.
While it is drying, I'm compelled to admire it some more—running my fingers over the yards of yarn that will be my companion in the coming weeks as I knit up a cardigan or weave a scarf.
I hope your year is filled with this same peace and promise.