It started with a horse. A horse that smelled exactly like every living, breathing animal I'd ever cared for, like the barn of my childhood, like the companion of my youth, another horse, another lifetime ago.
And it led here. Here to this dream of a farm that so far consists of a horse, two chickens, and a rooster. And the dream of reindeer, and alpaca, and sheep, and goats, and rabbits, and donkeys. This wonderful breathing, pulsating, magnetic dream of homesteading, of home as I remember it and as I see it stretching out in front of me.
Today while Barak Obama was being sworn in as the 44th president and making history I made a little history of my own. I took some wool roving I'd had around for centuries (or maybe one decade) gathering dust and I spun it. With my drop spindle. It was an infinitely satisfying experience. Watching the puff of wool become yarn - or 1 ply of yarn anyway. This is my test yarn. The stuff to make all my mistakes on. And then I will buy some of the roving I'm coveting from Etsy and spin some more. And someday I'll get a castle spinning wheel.
Years ago I named my studio Spindrift, but the name really didn't come into its own until I realized that my artistic endeavors lend themselves more readily to something physical - and practical. Like spinning and sewing and less to painting and mixed media (but not completely.) And then it hit me - Spindrift - is the perfect name for a fiber studio. And anything else that drifts out of it.
It was a good day - rest, spinning, music, and a nice long soak in a warm bath. A very much needed mental health day. A day to to plan and spin dreams.
