Number 24 on my 100 things about me list says that I make my own pie crust. This is true, I do make my own pie crust. I’ve tried the store bought kind and, frankly, I think it sucks. So I make my own because I can and because it tastes better. And also because I might just feel a little smug about the whole thing. But, really, it’s not rocket science, people, it’s just a recipe to follow and anybody can do it.
I’ve discovered that making yarn is like making pie crust. I make it because I can and because homemade is better than store bought. Well, better at least in theory because my yarn ain’t nearly as good as store bought yarn like, say, Koigu or Cherry Tree Hill or even Cascade 220. But it’s homemade by me and that means that there’s love and care and part of my life spun into every fiber of the stuff. Corny? Most definitely. But it makes me feel happy to think of it this way so shut up.
It also makes me feel happy to show you some pictures of my homespun yarn. It really doesn’t look like crap anymore!
This is 3 skeins of Indigo Coopworth from Kendig Cottage hanging to dry in my bathroom. I had a pretty hard time spinning this at first. It needed a lot of twist to hold together and it took some adjustments to get the tension right. I thought I had spun it pretty fine but it really fluffed up a lot when I washed it and set the twist. I guess I have to remember that when I’m spinning and compensate for the fluff factor.
And, see that rack that it’s drying on? There’s a funny story about that. A few years ago, right after Dale lost his 32 year job with the evil empire supermarket chain, he started working for the Boston Museum of Fine Arts Shop in their warehouse. They offered a fantastic discount of 40% off to their employees and when they had their big warehouse sale employees were offered 50% off any purchases. So, they had this warehouse sale and I went to shop and fell in love with this rack. I pulled it off the shelf and exclaimed over it’s beauty and remarked how great it would look in the bathroom. And, with the markdown at the sale and then Dale’s discount, I think it was only about $45. Dale looked at me with incredulity and told me there was no way I could buy the rack. I told him he was nuts, of course I was buying the rack, it was totally cool and funky and perfect for the bathroom. And, since when did he care what I bought for decorating the house, anyway? He pulled me aside and, in a low voice, said I couldn’t buy the rack because all the employees had been making fun of it and calling it over-priced and hideous and wondering who the hell would ever pay that kind of money for such an ugly piece of crap. He told me he’d never be able to hold his head up in the warehouse again. I told him to get over it and I bought the rack, which says a lot about the dynamics of our marriage, I suppose.
But ya know what? Not only is it perfect in the bathroom but now it’s got a real purpose for drying skeins of yarn. I guess that means I was right about it all along. Hunh. Who’d have guessed?