And the small struggle to be an actually responsible twenty-something
Well, this weekend was super happy and super sad at the same time. I spent a great weekend with all the girls - drinking, dancing, gossiping and brunching - to celebrate Emma's last weekend in Barcelona. She's moved back to Wisconsin (cheese state, can I get a what what!) to go to college and see her family and generally get her shit together after Barcelona Baby-adulthood, and we're really, really going to miss her.
The sheep is Pam. Named after the fabulous Pam Poovey. Bear claw rawr-rawr!
I'm living in the Temple of Disease and Pestilence. A couple weeks ago, Littlest Bug had chicken pox, closely followed by stomach flu (let me tell you, you can never quite unsee the moment when something so little manages to barf up the Pacific Ocean...). Everything seemed fine... until the early hours of Friday morning, when all hell broke loose. Stomach flu snuck up on me, and made its surprise appearance very well known by 3am. Bigger Bug now has chicken pox. And Littlest Bug is battling another round of bronchitis. Basically, a terrible weekend had by all.
Have you ever caught a virus from a child? They're evil mutant diseases that take hold, and don't let go for ever and ever a good couple of weeks. Recently, I caught bronchitis from the kids. Two weeks of a deliciously mucusy hacking cough that puts so much pressure on your head, your eyes feel like exploding. I've spent a lot of time sleeping - coupled with eye strain, that meant very little time spent on spinning. The fifteen minutes of daily spinning I looked forward to began to feel like a chore. I slowed right down - instead of managing four or five batt strips in that quarter hour, I was only halfway through the second when the timer beeped. I was picking up the spindle with a sigh, rather than a smile. It made me sad that I didn't even look forward to my favourite activity anymore. I'd been working on Hen for a long time - my only current spinning project. Maybe putting Hen aside, and starting something new in the meantime would pick me up?
I'd never spun from a batt before - I'd always been somewhat scared of "ruining" it by stripping the fibre apart. What can I say? I love them. No predrafting required (my nemesis, it's so boring), the colours fade beautifully, and they're like little clouds of fluffy fibrey goodness to play with. What's not to love? I like big batts and I cannot lie.
I first picked up a spindle in May 2014. A clunky wooden thing, nothing extraordinary, yet it opened up a whole world of possibility. Spinning soon became my way to unwind and relax - the ultimate stress-buster - and I got serious about it from August, when I moved to Barcelona. From August to December, I managed to spin 1,495m from 1.04kg of fibre. Nothing too amazing, all on spindles, but still - it would take about 18 minutes to walk from end to end, and I think that's pretty damn cool.
Instagram user Sherrill came up with a fantastic idea: #spin15in15. The idea is to spin for fifteen minutes every day throughout the year. Certainly seems more manageable than goals to spin a certain weight of wool, or a certain yardage... Instead of weekends of frantic spinning, you take a little time each day to sit down with your fibre and enjoy it. I mean, if you think about it, fifteen minutes really isn't much - it's the time it takes to eat a quick lunch, or to put on your makeup in the morning (or in the case of certain dads, the time it takes in the toilet - why do you need a whole quarter hour??)
