Spin me right round

I got the yen to spin this fall, and acquired a spinning wheel, three drop spindles, eight pounds of fiber, and hand cards since then. Nobody warned me that it was all downhill once I figured out how to draft. Well, they might have, but I didn’t believe it. There’s such a big learning curve with spinning, and for the first month at least, when I was producing this wretched spirally mess of overdraft and underspin, or underdraft and overspin, I couldn’t believe that I’d gotten so far into a new hobby as to get a spinning wheel without being sure I’d ever be any good at it.

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To be honest, I haven’t fallen in love with it the way one does. I like it, and I like looking at other people’s handspun in the Rav threads, and I like seeing videos about it, but I’m doing it more because I need it than because I love it. Love might be overrated when it comes to hobbying. Sometimes it’s about what you need. I don’t know why I need this, but I’ve decided it’s better to need this than to need hard drugs or alcohol, so wool and wheels it is.
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I had to wait for a spinning class to go at the LYS, but eventually it did, and we spun Corriedale/Romney cross in the grease, from the instructor’s own sheep. I also learned new appreciation for the joy of using one’s own wheel instead of the class wheels. I’d been spinning for almost three months when I took the class, but the student wheels made me feel about as graceful as the rank beginners. We each got a half pound of the fiber to take home, so now when I feel like it, I spend some evenings carding up rolags and then spinning them onto that bobbin.

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I don’t know where this is headed, but I’m definitely glad to be at the point where it’s relaxing to do, and not stressful because I’m bad at it.