Okay, so I suppose that as the name suggests, I'll talk about spinning for a moment.

I have this confounded spinning wheel that sits mocking me in the corner of my living room. I hear its laughter in my sleep. It's absolutely dreadful.

I bought said spinning wheel last April? March? thinking that it would be great fun to learn how to spin my own yarn. I still think that it would be a lot of fun, and extremely relaxing-if I could only learn how to do it. Now, it's not for lack of trying that I have failed. This is a skill that I am convinced that I do not have on my own, and would have to develop with the aid of a teacher. Perhaps then I will not have sitting in the corner of my craft area all of these 2 and 3 foot monstrosities of wool that look kind of like yarn...but not quite.

I remember last year at the Norman Medieval Faire seeing a woman who was spinning yarn in her tent, and talking to her briefly-she made it look so incredibly easy. What am I doing wrong?

I wonder, what drives me to take these things on? Surely, as I've heard it put, you are your own taskmaster. If that is the case, I am most certainly evil to myself. I think that perhaps where that really comes from is the innate need to create, to make, to set something of yourself that is tangible into the world. Perhaps that is why women have children? I don't know. I do know that I find a lot of peace in the rhythms of knitting and crochet. I find pride when I've completed a gift for a loved one and can see the look on their faces (hopefully of happiness).

I think I'm mainly bitter about my spinning wheel because I know I should be able to get the same things from it, and I am not able to...not yet.

I think I'll go peek about on the internet and see what I can find there so far as someone to give me lessons.

I'm not finished with that beast in the corner-and I promise to post pictures as there become things to take pictures of.

Read into that what you will.