I have spent bits and pieces of the past few days washing my
last fleece. It is a beautiful gray fleece (which means that there are parts
that are almost white, some a soft silver and some black). Once it is washed
and then dried, I then need to card it (get
it ready for spinning). Because it is not all one colour, I need to figure out
how to blend the various shades of gray so that when it is woven - the rug will
look interesting and hopefully attractive.
This process of blending is not a science. I never know
how it will look until the rug is off the loom. It is also a very messy process. For days on end I have wool scattered throughout my apartment drying or being sorted on every flat surface available. Most nights I need to clean off the bed before I can get into it and the dining room table is often too full of wool to sit at.
Wet towels are draped across the radiators to dry and on my kitchen counter is the drum carder. Throughout the space, dust bunnies float across the floor. There is wool everywhere including occasional a stray hair in my food. There are times when I despair of ever having a clean house again.
I was sitting on the couch eating lunch when I looked across the room
to my dining room table. In between two piles of wool was my Christmas Cactus. It looked to me as if
there was a tree poking its top branches through the clouds.
It made me smile and then I realized that I didn't really mind the mess at all.
