After spending the weekend camped out at the Black Forest Inn, I came home with a stack of new yarns. Live music, a glass of gluhwein, and a big pile of jingle bells and whole mess of fiber make for a delightful weekend.
A bunch of odds and ends got carded up into a pastel, Seuss-like batt. And a leftover ball of Wensleydale top became a long self-striping single, probably destined for a quick shawl. And my grey Primrose roving had gotten a bit felted and needed some attention, but with some time on the hand cards managed to end up as a rich rustic single.
The real treat was getting to spin to live music. The variation between acts, even from one song to the next gets recorded in the yarn. A little record of the otherwise lost live performance as the background changes the rhythms of the treadle and the draft and the uptake. At home I can control it, and set up a playlist as a spinner's metronome to keep things more consistent, but there is a little charm in knowing these few yarns will stand as a silent recording of their own.