I had a delightful encounter on Twitter this morning. It turns out that Joshua is not just a writer but a Shakespearean actor. He noticed that I played the Celtic Harp and made a comment about Jimmy Page so I shared the following video.

The whole experience brought home to me two things:

1. We are not alone (fancy that Kristen Lamb!) and that on the other side of the computer there are real people we can share with and not just share at.

2. That there are real people and experiences to be had which don’t always involve electronics.

So I’m asking myself – why is my harp stashed away downstairs when it gives me great joy to play it? The electronic toys simply cannot compete with embracing music-making like that.

Yes the keyboard allows me to write, but it is also the keybored at times and that’s dangerous – it leads to so much wasted time. (We’ll leave the piano and its keyboard out for the time being.) Computers have been part of my working life since the 80’s and so it feels like I’m working when I’m sitting there with one. It feels like I’m being indulgent when I choose to do something else – like play the harp or spin.

Who am I kidding? Myself of course. It’s time to see clearly what’s going on here.

Is it just me? Has the evolution of the home office been all good? Or is there a darker side to this new state of being? Or – am I just longing for the good old days?

And here’s an English version

So have you seen this video before? Did you adopt the method? If it’s new to you – what do you think? Fantastic? If not – how do you fold a T-shirt? I’d love to hear from you in the comments below.

thanks to Little Ones for photo

We’d walk along the beach to the rocks on the point and sit there just above the waterline, feet dangling in the water, little tiny shells prickling bare skin. She’d pry them off the rocks, open them up, take the oyster from the shell, rinse it in the salty water of the bay tilt her head back and down it went. I was fascinated and finally I accepted her offer to try one.

I was revolted. I was four or five years old.

Later the beach house was sold. It was a very sad, complex time for me being severed from childhood connections.

Eventually I tried oysters again, only we had to pay for them now. They were beautiful, I’d learnt not to chew just to swallow without gagging. And so I became and adult and oysters au naturel was my entree of choice for a long long time.

Thanks to The Brazilian for the photo

One evening my lips started tingling, a little at first but it quickly got worse. My throat was closing up and that, too, got worse. I was very, very frightened. It turned out to be an adult onset allergy to oysters and shellfish and I now have to carry an epipen.

But I also carry with me the taste and feel of those Port Stephens oysters as they slid so smoothly down. I can smell the beach and feel the warm sun on my skin as in my mind I watch my mother shuck the oysters and delight in their bliss.

How about you? Can you eat oysters? Do you have delightful memories of things which you can no longer indulge in? Places from your childhood?

The track up the hill

It was hot, it was dry, it was uphill, I was very wary that snakes would be about. It was so much on my mind that I thought of little else the whole way. My thanks go to Kristy Lyseng and her blog post about fears, for these thoughts echoing through my mind. Snakes are definitely on the list. Especially Tasmanian snakes.

We only have three types of on the Island and they rank from nasty to extremely nasty. I’m not about to weigh in on the “how deadly” world comparison – dead is dead after all.

We found the cache up the top of the hill but on the way back it was so windy that my eyes were streaming. My head was down a bit to stop the hat blowing off and to protect my eyes and I, well, got too close to a Tiger Snake for comfort. He reared up a bit and his neck flared out. That caught my eye and made me stop.

Thank you Parks & Wildlife Tasmania for the photo

The snake slithered away and all was well. As we walked back down the hill my mind went into overtime anguishing how I could have let myself get that close before I noticed. I’ll swear I also examined every piece of fallen bark and every stick on the track, just in case it moved.

The cache we were after was Channel Views. Sounds nice doesn’t it?

Do you ever put yourself in the path of your fears? Does your mind churn so much that you think you may have brought it all on your self? What do you do on public holidays?

Helen is a writer who shares her delightful and entertaining foofaraws on her blog Foofaraws From Helen – and she even explains what it means.

Cindy  is a writer and photographer and also the editor of Flashquake a wonderful publication dedicated to those “briefest of forms”.

After writing an acceptance post and selecting the fifteen people I wanted to pass the baton on to, I have decided to decline the offer. I couldn’t get it out of my head that people I chose might think I was spamming them or that this was some reincarnation of the old chain letter. I certainly didn’t find it so – as I said I was honoured.

Working out my list of 15 was a valuable exercise – having to think through the reasons why I was recommending people gave me the opportunity to appreciate their blogs in a new way. I will certainly be following them more closely because of it.

The whole activity took me a good part of the day to do. I think very slowly you see, and I guess that alone could be the crux of my reluctance to participate – what am I actually asking these near strangers / developing friends to do?

So

Do these sorts of activities have value or are they just a form of chain letter? Are there easier ways to “share the love”? I’d appreciate your thoughts.

You can go searching for a performance in English if you like – or even one with simpler subtitles – but I think that the foreign language and complex subtitles add to the experience rather than detract from it.

How do you feel? Are you a watcher of foreign language films – or do you prefer to watch films and read books?

Topmaking photo from Australian Wool Innovation Ltd

I was confused because of some assumptions I made. Firstly that what I’d been told was true and secondly that there was nothing more to know – nothing else to learn.

Years ago I was told that tops are made from combed wool and rovings are made from carded fleece, and I believed it. I hate to think how many people there are down that chain of misinformation, which I have happily continued up until now.

I’ve decided to use industrial references because I simply can’t track the thread of information back to a definite beginning within the handspinning community – everyone seems to have a slightly different understanding of it. For me adopting industrial terminology is the only clear way  through all those whispering voices.

For the wool to be processed it must be clean. Scouring is the first step and may happen at the mill or at a dedicated wool scour after auction.

Carding the wool

Once the fleece is scoured and dry it is then carded. Handspinners only card wool when they want a fluffy, woollen yarn, but industrially all fleece is carded. Machines open up the fibres and make large webs of fibre. This photo shows an antique machine which was once used in Denmark. The wool passes between the rollers and gets teased apart by the thousands of tiny wires embedded on their surface. Eventually the web of wool becomes a  sheet or batt. In the background you can see one still on the large drum.

Photo from storebukkebruse  - thank you

Modern machines tend to be encased in protective cabinets and so the workings are not as readily seen.

Drawing the Sliver – Gilling

The last step in the carding process is creating a sliver – this is what I thought was roving. Sliver is a soft thick rope of fibre drawn off the drums of the carding machine, which has no twist. Gilling has three stages and straightens the wool fibres for combing.

The Nundle Woollen Mill has a gallery photo which I think is showing their sliver.

Tops and Rovings

The next step in the industrial process is top making. Essentially the sliver is put through a combing machine to remove all the short half grown and knotty fibres. This leaves the long fibres in a beautiful parallel form. Several tops are combined to ensure thorough colour blending (even white needs blending) the end result is a roving or in Australia a combed sliver.

So: Carded webs are drawn into untwisted slivers which may then be combed into tops. These tops may be refined and drawn out even further and may be called rovings, tops or combed sliver.

Does it matter?

Yes – if you are planning a sleek smooth yarn then the preparation you buy needs to be combed, but if you want a fluffy lightweight warm yarn suitable for winter woollies then look for sliver. If you can examine the fibre closely you should be able to tell the difference, but photos from internet shops may not show it clearly. You can only ask, and maybe start a conversation. And yes because this is Australian terminology, somehow I think we will always have to ask questions and be wary of the whisperers.

For the curious these are my sources
A basic outline from Wool Producers Australia
A great little video to download from the CSIRO
The carding and spinning process at Nundle Woollen Mill
A pdf poster from the CSIRO
The responsibilities of a top maker from Australian Wool Innovation Ltd
The machinery gallery at Nundle Woollen Mill

I’m talking about sheep’s wool here but it’s much the same for all the animals which need shearing – only on a much smaller scale.

Fleece is the name given to the coat of wool once it has been taken off the animal although sometimes it may be used about wool before shearing.

Shearing is the removal of the fleece from the animal. It is usually done with electric shears – a bit like barber’s clippers – presumably that’s where the term “wool clip” came from, in reference to National Exports.

Classing - the wool classer sorts the fleeces into different categories based on the quality of the fleece. From here the clip is taken from the station’s shearing shed. (Large properties are called ‘stations’ in the outback).

Scouring  cleans of the fleece – getting rid of dirt, grease and lanolin.

Before we get to the mill I want to take a tour of some interesting Queensland sites which are well worth a visit if you’re up that way.

The Isis Down Shearing Shed is a semicircular shed with 52 stands and was manufactured in England and brought to Australia in 1914. It is still in operation and is the largest in Australia. Only two were ever built – the other is in Argentina.

The Blackall Wool Scour is the only steam driven wool scour remaining in Australia – there were once 52 (curious how that number keeps coming up!) through the country. It is being restored and if you are lucky enough to be in town (peak season – winter) you will see it in operation.

Jackie Howe,  from Blackall, still holds the blade shearing record.  321 sheep in seven hours and forty minutes. It was only broken in 1950 by a machine shearer. The origins of the workman’s singlet can also be traced back to Jackie and his shearing.

A classic Australian film from the 70′s featuring shearers is Sunday too far away . Paul Byrnes says that it is an “enormous [movie], empty, [with] confronting landscapes, beautifully photographed, a cast of funny, laconic, rough-hewn Aussie blokes who worked hard and drank harder, a sense of fun and physical prowess, but also a sense of ‘the great Australian loneliness’.”

We’ll get to the “tops” and “roving” bit in the next post.

First up will be a series of posts about different preparation tools – from the standard ones through to some more specialised tools.  What they look like, how to use them, how to look after them – and yourself – some of these are dangerous! But before that there is a pressing question -

Why not just buy pretty tops or roving?

You’ll improve your skills for a start, but more importantly you’ll also gain a feel for the fibre, without the chemical baths or mechanised processing which results in a product destined for another machine. If you have the opportunity, take fibre from it’s raw state through to a finished yarn and your head, your hands and even your heart will learn and understand how that fibre works and with that understanding comes the skill to manipulate the fibre just the way you want it. All fibres behave differently – animal, plant or manmade – at first I’ll be focussing on animal fibres and wool in particular.

Sometimes I do choose tops to spin.

Either they’ve been dyed superbly by Indie dyers like Ewegivemetheknits or The Thylacine,  or I simply cannot get raw fleece of a particular breed in Australia – Blue Faced Leicester or North Ronaldsay and other rare breeds from around the world. Or even I like a particular blend which is available – merino and seacell is one.

Dealing with a fleece or raw fibre takes more understanding and skill than the basic ability to adjust for a suitable tension and twist on your wheel or spindle then feed the fibre in. It takes bravery, tenacity and patience along with the humour to put up with some odd smells and textures – the results are well worth it, though. Just try a little an you’ll see.

The easiest way to obtain these fibres (particularly in Australia) if you don’t own them or know someone who does, is to contact your local Spinning Guild or an online supplier. In fact if you’re new to this I’d recommend starting with a supplier just to make sure that you’ll be using a good quality fleece – I’ve been given some really awful fleeces in the past by well meaning farmers and friends who didn’t understand the needs of handspinners – made good compost!

The Handweavers Spinners & Dyers Guild of Tasmania has links to all the Australian State Guilds. Ewegivemetheknits sells fleece online as does Tasmanian House of Fibre