Happy Wednesday, world!
I should be in the hospital for operation ‘bean freedom’, only it was postponed due to some unforeseen cardiac…issues. There’s more to it, and one day I might talk about it when I’m done being pissed off, but for now I’m going to bitch about craft fiber.
Last year, for my anniversary of being naked in the world for the first time, my Mother bought me a couple of wads of hand-dyed merino/cotton yarn. One was purple and green, and the other is an ombré turquoise, yellow, and lime green. Very pretty and delightfully soft. I say was, because the purple/green pile got thrown in the trash.
I’m accustomed to yarn that comes in neat little bundles called skeins. It cleanly unwinds itself as you work on your project. The handmade yarns come in what looks like a twisted breadstick, called a hank.
I had no idea the rules for skeins and hanks are different, so I attempted to work directly from the twisted up mess. Before I was even 20 rows into my project, it was a pile of knots. I tried to untwist it, unwind it, and rectify my mistake, but it was impossible. The other hank sat untouched for the next 11 months because I was intimidated by it!
First I had to figure out what in the hell the roll type was actually called (thanks google), and then I had to figure out what the hell to do with it (thanks youtube). Before it can be used, it has to be untwisted, then manually be rolled into a ball. All 380 yards of it.
She makes it look so easy. My yarn is super fine intended for socks, compared to the bulky yarn shown. My ball is no larger than a marble with as much as I was able to unwind. It’s a fucking rat’s nest! I’m trying to learn patience, but if I leave my face scrunched up, and my mouth snarled for too long, it’ll stick. I’m sure of it. I left the ring of yarn hanging over the doorknob and periodically shake my fist at it. “You’ve got no balls! Unwind yourself, you fool!”
Defeated by Hank. Damn.