The knitting and spinning has been slowed by health, work, and the demands of the holiday season. Washing the yarn I plied the week after Thanksgiving was on the todo list the day I first woke up sick as a dog, December 12. And todo it, I did. Not being right in the head has to be the reason I thought it was a very good idea to put all my newly plied handspun into the washing machine with a hat and scarf. (The second picture is one of the first I took with the new camera.) If I hadn't been preoccupied with wallowing in vat of self pity the size of a small island nation over being sick, I would have been crying myself a river, and then a sea, and then an ocean over the perceived ruination of all my hard work. The delayed hysteria gave me enough time to recall that when it comes to untangling things I have a freakish amount of patience. I originally wrote this around 12/18/08.
"the little bit (two inches wide) of ivory on which I work with so fine a brush, as to produce little effect after much labour" - Jane Austen