|Like The Queen
Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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Monday, January 19, 2004 Well. Falkland Island Polwarth is the best kept secret I've come across in a long time. What a fiber! It's long. Spinning it thin is extremely easy. In fact, it wants to be spun thin. The Spinners Notebook even recommends spinning it worsted weight - smooth and sleek. In many ways it spins like silk without the static electricity and fly-away fibers. If you have spun silk top or a blend with silk mixed in, you will recognize the similarity of Polwarth with it’s long stretchy fibers that will spin down to threads if you aren't careful with your drafting triangle.
It has tremendous crimp, though, so knitting with it is not like knitting with silk, which has no crimp or stretchiness at all. It's like your favorite merino. Or .. hmmm I am trying to think of the crimpiest fiber I've spun with - but I am drawing a blank. Just take my word for it, it’' very springy to knit with. BUT I suspect it won't pill at all, with those long fibers. Pills are the price you pay for the softness of cashmere or merino. Short fibers pop out of the yarn and get little tangles in them and the next thing you know, your garment is dotted with pills. I can't imagine this happening with Polwarth. In fact, I don't understand why Polwarth isn't the wool of choice for fine commercially made garments.
Not enough good things can be said about this fiber. It's a glowing white when washed. It is soft enough to make underwear out of it. It is fantastic wool. Just in case I didn't say enough good things about the fleece - let me at least tell you where it came from:
Susie Hansen of Main Point Farm in the Falkland Islands was my source. I found her in the Spinners Notebook.
It rained yesterday - all day long. LD came over and began sorting through his youth, which had been left, pretty much untouched, in his bedroom, back in 1994 when he went off to college. We're giving him the small set of shelves for his new place and keeping the large shelves along the west wall. BD tried to sneak those shelves away for me to keep his library of James Joyce but I wrestled him to the ground and, in the end, prevailed. All my knitting and gardening books get the upstairs shelves and the empty cabinet downstairs can hold my growing stash of beading, and now, felting, tools. We sacrificed Braudell for Joyce. Neither of us ever liked him anyway.
And today I get one more lavish luxurious day at home to spin and knit and rearrange my possessions and just be at home. What could be nicer?
posted by Bess | 7:39 AM