So, we’re supposed to find someone liking her coffee the same way I like mine. No surprise… My gal pal Nichole likes a not too bold roast too. How ’bout that?! (Nic and I have a history of liking the same things, very much so. Wonder twin power, we call ’em…) She is debuting her Etsy shop, so pop in and look at her cute stitch markers! I happen to know you’ll want to keep checking in, because she has all kinds of cute ideas in the works. (Again, I have such clever, crafty friends. I’d be jealous of their talents if they didn’t spoil me.)
What am I working on? Um, honestly? Not much. I spent a few minutes with Fredfoot and a few more with my healing hat (see the new Ravelry Group and join us!), but really, I’m busy getting ready for a special visitor this weekend, a fancy fundraiser on Thursday, and truth be told, I can’t stop researching spinning wheels.
There. I’ve said it. Hopefully, Jessi won’t notice my public confession, as she’s not in this swap and has no reason to read this post. It doesn’t matter though, because I think I’ve already solicited wheel advice from all those who tried to warn me that curiosity leads to a wheel purchase. Let this serve as a warning to others ignorantly wandering towards a spinning class with no interest in making spinning a part of your life! There’s something innately compelling about spinning. Those already “bitten” know it, and know how futile it is to resist. Even the rather scattered rhythm of a novice spinner sings to something deep within us. Either that, or every wheel made is coated in a deep and ancient magic that settles within your bones. Suddenly, I don’t care that the wheel will take away from my knitting time. (I will freely admit I
have make more time to knit than most.) There’s something truly primal and so very satisfying about letting the fibers slip through your fingers while your eyes watch it become yarn, albeit ugly, flawed yarn at this point.
For some reason, I’m suddenly reminded of Walt Whitman’s I Sing the Body Electric.
|I SING the Body electric;|
|The armies of those I love engirth me, and I engirth them;|
|They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,|
|And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the Soul.|
Spinners seem to name their wheels, so maybe mine will be Whit.