Fiber and I go back about a decade or so. I met fiber on a hot and dusty day at This is the Place Heritage Park in Salt Lake City, UT. I shuffled into one of those little cabins and there was fiber! A mock pioneer was demonstrating how to use some hand cards and I was immediately entranced. I could have spent all day in that dingy cabin. I wanted to know how to get my hands on some wool, and once I did, what to do with it. I wanted to know everything! I only had a few short moments with fiber that day, but I've had a huge crush on wool ever since (no offense, Alpaca).
So, it's been a decade at least. It's taken me that long to get to the point in my life where I can actually play with fiber. In that ten years I have moved from the desert metropolis of L.A. to a rural island in WA. I met and married my true love, and I have given birth to two chubby-cheeked boys. I've spent the past three years giving them my all. I am exhausted. Amid this life, fiber still calls to me. I dream about it, and I wake up anxious for any free time I might be able to spend in my workshop.
My workshop is a room in my house where I wash, pick, card, spin, and dye my fleece. I do it all by hand because, well, for me, that's the whole point. It feels good to turn something raw and unloveable into something beautiful with my own two hands. I love putting myself into the whole process, start to finish. I love holding one of nature's abundant gifts between my fingers, and saying,"Thank you!" by making it into something useful.
Fiber and I have many years ahead of us to learn about each other. Its just nice to finally be living together.