I wound this ball of freshly washed handspun singles yesterday. No, it's not the purple stuff in bad color, it's the very last of this stuff:
It was wound on my Fricke ball winder, the one that makes huge, orderly eggs of yarn.
I can't stop staring at that perfect geometric order which is so unlike any part of my life right now. Wish I could morph into such a ball of yarn.
PS: I put this post up very early in the morning because (predictably) I had an asthma attack after the stupid dinner at the tavern. Turns out they have a smoking section....grrrr. Smoking sections in any open spaced building are just like having a "peeing section" in a swimming pool. So, up all night with the albuteral and wondering if it's worth the trip to urgent care.
However, Deb Robson had a link to a new blog by a respiratory therapist in training at: Pranamama. We need more healthcare people like this. Lord knows I couldn't take the indifference of the routine healthcare delivery system anymore, and that was 11 years ago!