|One skein = one cat's body length|
Technically (I don't know what you mean by technically, Bob), I have met my Tour de Fleece goal. I spun two sets of singles of this gorgeous overdyed Shetland and plied them, all on my spindle.
It resulted in about 132 yds of the most Shetland-y Shetland I have ever seen. Can't you just smell the peat burning from here?
I do feel like my spindling skills improved and I learned that a girl's best friend in a traffic jam is her spindle. But I am rather embarrassed to admit that I made a ridiculous mistake. For some unfathomable reason, I did not divide the fleece evenly when I split it in half. Yes, that's right...I managed to botch up the simple act of dividing it in half. I will use as my excuse that I had probably driven for 10+ hours so everything was a bit fuzzy, if you know what I mean. Oh no, now that I reflect a moment, I remember when I divided the fleece...ahem...mistakes were made, as Ronald Reagan once said. Enough about that.
The results of my inability to divide one into two evenly was that I have a good ounce of fibre (maybe more - sheesh!) left over. After studying my spindle spun yarn closely and considering the amount of time and effort that went into those 132 yds, I did what any sensible person would do...I brought out my wheel. I am spinning the rest as a thin single and will chain-ply it into a lovely little skein...on my wheel.
I like my spindle. I enjoy spindling. I appreciate its transportability and its connection to pre-history. But darlings, I looooove my wheel. You may have read one or two love letters to it here (cough, cough). Does this make me a lesser spinner? Am I less pure for putting my wheel over my spindle? Why am I even asking myself these questions in the 21st Century?
The answer is: why don't you just be quiet and spin, for heaven's sake?
And, I think, that is just what I will do. Cheers!