Growing things · Mollie · Yarn

A tale of winding yarn…

Look at this gorgeous ball of loveliness:image

This is a skein of hand painted 100% silk lace weight that my husband bought for me when we went to Bruges last September. We went with my Dad and stepmother and on our last day we’d split up and D and I were just having a wander. We saw the yarn shop, which was shut, and he manfully suggested we went back later. We duly did on our way back to the B&B and while I wandered around trying to decide whether to buy some of their yarns that were similar to ones you can get here, he’d found a basket of this hand painted silk. It didn’t have a makers ticket on it, the woman in the shop (I think) said it was made locally. He asked me if I’d like some and I said ‘yes please!’, so he chose this and another skein that is more blue:

It was *quite* expensive and I was so stunned he’d voluntarily chosen some yarn, it never occurred to me to ask the meterage…

So, it’s been sitting in my stash waiting for me to decide what I’d like to make with it. I wanted the perfect pattern and of course, having discovered Michelle Behm’s Hitchhiker, I realised I’d found it. This thought occurred to me at 10.30pm last night. From the thought to getting out the yarn, yarn winder and assorted paraphernalia was less than three minutes. A sensible person would have gone downstairs and set up the winder & yarn holder on the dining table, where I always put them. But no. I decided I could set the holder up on the rail of my bed and the winder on my dressing table…

You are absolutely right in assuming this was a complete disaster. After the holder slipped off the round rail for the fifth time and completely fell apart, I decided that I could loop the remainder of the skein around the bed post and hold the winder above it. This seemed to work and I happily wound away not really paying attention to what was going on until I realised the final quarter of the skein was effectively one big knot.

I swore, loudly, and Mollie left the room in shock at the language. I considered cutting it off for about 30 seconds before I recalled it was an expensive hand painted lace that I wanted for a scarf/shawl and a join wouldn’t be helpful. I then spent til 2am gently teasing the knots out, and another considerable period of time today. At lunchtime it looked like this:
And at 7.30pm I unpicked the two last little knots and carefully wound the remainder onto the ball.

There’s a moral here somewhere. However I have sworn I will never ever use my winder again late at night or anywhere but a suitable location.

However I have not yet cast on. I may actually try and finish the Colinette pattern. But then again I might not. Lets see how the mood takes me. 😄

In other news, my lovely Mum came and planted my front garden border with some petunias (I can’t at the mo because of the cellulitis.) as well as the tomatoes and courgette. Pix of the veg tomorrow when I also hope to showcase the bunny palace I mentioned ordering weeks go. It’s coming tomorrow! However here are the petunias and the workers 😄
The grass to the left is owned by the council. We live at the entrance to an estate in the onetime show home (which is why our ’80’s shoebox has an 80 foot garden!) and I’ve just had the last half dead bushes of a fabulous lavender hedge removed, so I decided to plant annuals this year while we decide how we want to improve our front garden. I say ‘I’ about plants because him indoors just isn’t interested!

It was lovely here today, I hope you had a good day too.

One thought on “A tale of winding yarn…

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