In which Jenny girds up her loins...

... and stops being such a spinning wuss.

I must have been in a crappy mood last post (sorry for scaring away any potential regular readers of 'shoeboxes' - do I have *any* regular readers? Comment if you are - I'd love to know that me typing all this isn't just some ego thing), and so upon getting up today (to find Pete and Wonderboy engaged in a massive battle of wills over breakfast) I decided that today was the day to clean the house, properly. Bear in mind that my version of cleaning the house properly involves mopping as well as vacuuming, plus cleaning the whole bathroom (not just throwing some chemicals down the toilet and wiping the vanity mirror). Another thing to remember is that this process is undertaken at two times:

1. When the house becomes too disgusting for me to pretend to tolerate (this usually happens in two week to two month intervals. I know. It's gross.) There is some minor cleaning in between these times, usually a quick vacuum and a frenzy of wiping surfaces.

2. The other times are when we're expecting guests. I leave cleaning till the last minute, and then go totally off my chops at Pete for not guessing all that needed to be done and for 'daring' to ask me "Is there anything I can do to help?" when I'm headfirst down the toilet, scrubbing like my life depends on it, whilst muttering things like "Do y'think they'll notice if I don't wipe the inside of the bin flap down?"

What's really weird is that whenever we do a decent clean, I always feel compelled to call up friends and invite them round that evening for a meal. It's like I need to prove to everyone that I do manage to keep a clean house at least some of the time. I wonder sometimes about Wonderboy and hygiene, but then I remember that a child should consume something like a kilo of dirt before they turn five, or something to that effect... Nah, just jokes, I do make sure things are 'clean' where Wonderboy is concerned.

Wonderboy is very good about helping to tidy up (at the moment. This is scheduled to change at a time of Wonderboy's choosing. Thank you for your enquiry. Please call again.), to the point where he is loving the opportunity to help put things in the bin. He's taken to helping himself to onions from the drawer, to peel them then make multiple trips to the bin to pop the skin in. Bless his strange little mind.

Oh, yeah. Spinning... Don't mind me, I do this in real life, too.

ANYWAY, turns out I was so pleased with the amount of work we managed to get done (the amount of work Wonderboy allowed us to get done), plus I got some potting done in the garden, and feeling on a roll, I threw caution to the wind and decided to card some mohair to have a crack at spinning.

This is the sunroom that I recently claimed as my own for a "spinning room" (since I'm too scared to try going into the study, let alone spin in there).














Here's my first attempt at a rolag. Not quite, I think you'll agree. I watched some how-to videos on the Joy of Handspinning website. Very well done, easy to understand and clear. Love the videos.

I got a little better as I went along. I have more work to do, I understand...











And here's my wee little basket of rolags after half an hour of carding. Proud much?