Fiber Ho

Yeah, that would be me.

And I can totally blame it on this girl. My friend, Jenn, who I met in Germany via Azerbaijan of all places (thanks to Ravelry), long ago impressed me with her jump to spinning. When she said how much she enjoyed it I got a little jealous, and began concocting ideas on how to get a wheel for myself (the original “dropping some serious hints” to the DH did not work).  Then in May 2011 during the night before the opening of Maryland Sheep and Wool festival she taught me how to knit on her Ashford.

That was it. I had to have a wheel.

Granted the spinning felt really weird at first, sort of like trying to pat your head and rub your belly at the same time, but I got the idea, and Jenn sent me home with my little skein of singles. The next day I bought some Fat Cat Knits Polwarth in colorway Guthrie as my first roving that was intended for my future wheel.

Since then I have accumulated not only a GORGEOUS wheel (thank you Steve at Webs for putting one aside for me !), but also a buttload of fiber. Or should I say a crateload? Yeah, a crate so big I might have to put it in the basement.

My Kromski Minstrel

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So thanks, Jenn! It could be a worse addiction, right?

 

 

 

 

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