But it's fun!
(It's a photo booth photo, so not the best, but the camera isn't available at this moment.) The ball right there in the front is from the roving that Wanda sent, spun and plied on the turkish spindle. About the only things that can be said for it are a) it is a beautiful color, and b) once it had been plied, it didn't twist back on itself. However, I would not call it "yarn", so much as "a twisted fiber object".
(BTW, does anyone else learning to spin have the Thomson Twins' song running through their head: "You spin me right round, baby, right round, like a record, baby..."? Anne? Or am I dating myself?)
Did you all see the beautiful container that the spinning is sitting in? Here's a better shot (where "better" is a relative term, meaning something more like "you can see more of the basket", since I'm still using photo booth), with some gratuitous dogness thrown in.
Kivrin got me this lovely wooden basket, with some help from her father, from our local farmer's market. I got all excited and promptly put my spinning gear in there, whereupon Rick said, somewhat sadly, "I'd thought maybe you could put some of your stash in there?" Turns out that he's been longing to repatriate the copper bowl that I've liberated from the kitchen for fibrous purposes. It holds an ever-changing arrangement of yarns whose colors feel seasonal to me (just before Christmas, it went from oranges and purples and browns to blues and whites and greys and blacks). Turns out Rick wanted to beat some egg whites in it the other day. I suggested that, since egg-white beating a) is not a regular activity in our home, and b) no longer requires a copper bowl since we invested in a handmixer a few years ago), but that c) I do knit every single day, and d) enjoy looking at my yarn even when I'm not knitting, he'd probably do better to give up his nefarious plans and allow the new borders between cooking and fiber to stay where they have been drawn. I think the long list of lettered items confused him enough that he's given up for the moment.
And, last photo booth shot of the day, since Atticus is feeling very left out.
Now, once he's decided that my lap is no longer fun, I can go back to trying to spin. Alas, he's gone all limp and is purring, so that may be a while...