A wool pause

Spinning projects are not on the front burner at the moment, nor is quilting. It happens, when one runs a property by oneself, that maintenance and general upkeep some times need prioritizing. Such has been the past month.

Wood stacking started August 1st with the goal of having the three cords of last year's delivery all stacked by October 1, which is when a new delivery is arriving. Four cords are coming this year. Because I'm always slicing up my time for any number of projects,  chores and jobs, I spend an hour or so each day--that is the goal--stacking a bit of wood. Rainy days are out as are days with schedule conflicts or days that I'm too exhausted for it. It has gone well and it looks like the old pile will be stacked by end of next week. Why would a young man of almost seven decades be too exhausted, one might ask? Usually it's due to a very intense piano practice that has drained me for the rest of the day, or perhaps a night of less than ideal sleep.

Good news on the pump organ. I opened it up, removed all it's innards, and discovered that the bellows are actually in pretty good condition. They do not need rebuilding. I cleaned all the reeds and the wind chest, checked all the pallet valve springs and fixed some broken non-speaking stops. There are two braces on either side of the pedals which keep the pedal board in place and one was broken and not doing it's job. I had to fashion a new one and not having high-end wood working equipment, had to be less decorative than the original which made it look out of place with the other one, so I made another and the two originals have been replaced.

Even though the bellows appear to be air-tight, the organ is leaking air. I suspect the culprits are the pallet valve felts and leathers. I will have to replace those, I think. My piano tuner is coming tomorrow and he services old pianos and organs so I will get his opinion on the matter.

There were a couple of contractors here last month working on the exterior of the house. Clapboards and sheathing along the bottom of the house, where it meets the deck, were starting to rot. I feared the sill might be impacted--luckily, it was not. The workmen replaced two of the deck floor boards--next to the house--with a metal grate so as to let water and melting ice fall down to the ground. Several clapboards and several feet of sheathing were also replaced. They will return next year to work on the gables and--I very much hope--build a porch out back. I'm testing colors for a re-paint of the house. Probably going with something blue.

Once the wood stacking is done and outdoor chores subside, I'll have a reunion with the Shetland and Wensleydale fleeces. I have spun a little this past month, but not much. Ditto with the quilting.

Let the music roll

I have finished rebuilding the bellows of the antique roller organ I purchased last fall. The bellows has sat on the dining room table for the better part of this summer and I've got to say, it feels really nice to have the table back!

Here is what they looked like when I got the organ:

The old bellows

 

They didn't have too much power, partly due to having improper coverings for the exhauster valves. The inside flaps were index cards and the exterior were paperback book covers. It struggled. The flaps have been replaced with leather.

Here they are now:

Rebuilt bellows, view #1

Rebuilt bellows, view #2

I'm happy to say that the organ now has a robust sound and projects well. Video clip below.

I worked on this project pretty slowly. It sat many days without being touched, partly because I have had so many other things going on, and partly because I was stalling... afraid of botching the job. Well it turned out OK.

It's my first experience using hot hide glue and my first bellows rebuild ever. I was apprehensive about all the unkowns. Working with hide glue turned out to be a good experience and I'm really fond of the stuff. There is a drawback, though, and that is the time it takes to prepare it for use. The granules have to be soaked in a proportion of water at least 40 minutes before heating to 143F which can take an additional twenty to thirty minutes. Since the order of assembly is important, there were times when I was only able to glue one or two small pieces and it all had to dry properly before proceeding (I always gave it overnight to dry.). The good news is that unused glue can be capped and placed in the refrigerator for keeping. It's a great glue. Strong, but easily removed with heat and/or water. It's basically the same thing that Jello is made from! Non-toxic is a great plus.

I am chuffed with the results. Next time should go even better--and that will be the pump organ bellows. I have confidence now that I can tackle the job with gusto. I'm practically raring to go!

There is still a small issue with the roller organ and that is one of the safety valves is not setting tightly closed because the exhauster board that it is attached to is slightly warped. I exchanged the badly worn leather for that valve with thicker leather hoping it would make up for the almost imperceptible warp and it seems to work. But the original spring for the valve is not strong enough to keep it shut due to the extra weight off the new leather. I ordered a new spring today and I'm hoping that will fix the problem.

Here is a short clip showing off the new bellows (best viewed on YouTube):

In other news, here's a short clip of my most recent acquisition of entertainment from the late 1800s. I love this one!

In yet other news, I demonstrated a bit of wool spinning at our town's annual 'old home day' on Saturday. It was an enjoyable time and I have to say, for being such a small town, the fireworks display is pretty darned good. Being up close is a special bonus. 

 

 

This is not how the pro's do it

Quilting by hand.

I have watched a series of very good videos on hand quilting made by an Amish woman. She's a pro. There are a lot of pro's. I am not one of them. The small, close stitching; the picking up of 4 or 5 stitches at once, it is remarkable what can be done. It will be some time before (if !) I ever achieve such a level at hand quilting. It will be wonderful if I do, but it's also wonderful if I don't. I am making quilts that I like and am happy with.

At the polar opposite of close, fine stitching is "big stitch quilting". I don't do that either, I'm in the middle. Neither small nor big, my quilting stitches are medium sized and they do a good job of holding the filling in place.

The pro's I've watched use a frame with the quilt stretched over it. I've tried that but find I need a lot of give to the quilt as I work; taught is out. I've also tried a special, custom made-to-size thimble for my left hand to hold under the quilt. I've read that some people use the backside of a spoon. It feels like a barrier to the tactile feedback I get without it. Same for my right hand, working above the quilt: a thimble feels awkward and less sensitive than my bare hands. So for those reasons, taking four or five stitches at a time is out of the question--it requires a lot of pressure to push the needle through 4 stitches, all through 3 layers at once, it would destroy the fingers without a thimble.

So I take one stitch at time. It's enjoyable and I figure if I do it enough, adding another stitch to the one might just naturally develop, and maybe, before I even realize it, I'll be taking 4 stitches at a time. I have the thimble and thread puller. It could happen. But it's OK if it doesn't.

Timble, thread puller, and special under-quilt thimble

All geared up with the three implements is just a bit too much for me right now. I lose a sense of control when wearing and trying to use them. They need practice.

Donning the thimble and thread puller on right hand

 

Bespoke thimble on left hand

Taking one stitch at a time goes faster than one imagines. I can do one block in two to three hours, just about a block a day. Not bad. Faster than the applique work.

Since the quilt is large, I find that some sort of frame is helpful, but I use mine simply to drape the quilt over; it holds it up without the weight being born by me. I use this embroidery frame, at the edge of a table.

Embroidery frame to hold the quilt while working on it

Quilt draped over frame for stitching

In addition to the large basting stitches I put in to hold the three layers of the quilt together, I also baste smaller stitches around the block I'm quilting to ensure that it doesn't pucker while I stitch. The basting comes out as soon as I finish the block. On to the next.

Very long basting stitches running vertically; smaller basting around current block

I'm using blue quilting thread for this quilt. It's what I had. Can you believe I stopped at a quilt shop to see what other colors they had in quilting threads and they don't carry nary a quilting thread! I guess long-arm is defacto these days, which is kind of sad. Hey! I've done it, but feel I have evolved to hand stitching.

I have currently finished 3 blocks. A sample of my medium sized stitches:

Quilting stitches in blue

I am happy to be working on this. There's been some great wheel spinning as well; that'll be a different post. 

 

Out on the deck with the great wheel

Lovely weather today, bright, clear, not too hot.

I spent an hour this morning carding some Wensleydale, then tinkered with the big wheel, replacing a leather bearing that had become torn. In an effort to make a small, unofficial contribution to Tour de Fleece, I then lugged the wheel out to the deck to spin my fresh rolags.

I need more practice, lots of it. The start was a bit rough, my singles were way too thin. Also, I was being very conscious of the amount of twist going into the fibers. I don't like "hard" yarn, so my objective was to produce a somewhat consistent, pretty single with a comfortable amount of twist. An amount that would not ply up into string. It became obvious at plying time that my first few minutes worth of spinning created a single that was too fragile in places, and there were a few breakages. Not the end of the world. I spliced and carried on. Ninety-eight percent of the spun single, however, was quite decent. I had corrected the over drafting and remembered the art of 'letting go'. One trick is to start letting go of perfection when one section begins to stretch alarmingly thin. It means letting some thicker parts move on.  Difficult to do, but you know what? Plying evens out a lot of the variation. It gets easier with experience.

This was a sample run.  Plied from the reel, three ply, chain style. 25 yards. I think I will continue to spin as such, but maybe ply from 3 singles, non-chained style.

Dusk was just settling in when I hung it out to dry, but it dried fast in the ambient temps.

The resulting yarn has a substantial halo, and is soft enough for bare skin. No, I don't think I'll need to do another sample, I'm pretty happy with this.

 

 

The rug is finished

 Just finished the binding this afternoon. Here it is out on the deck...

I couldn't be more pleased with the way it turned out. I think the person who started hooking this rug--who knows when or where--would also be happy to see it now, and the thought of that makes me happy. And it looks great in it's new dining room location.

 I sewed the binding over with herringbone stitches. A wonderful, giving stitch that doesn't cause any pulling. I zipped up the 4 corners with ladder stitching to make it invisible.

Herringbone stitching

 

The corners are sewn with ladder stitches

This has been a wonderful project.

The newest unfinished rug, the one I purchased at the sheep and wool festival is not going to be worked on right away because I want to quilt this top that I made a few years ago.

I'm itching to start stitching!

But a note about the latest unfinished rug. I had developed a visceral dislike for the coloring of the largest center flower, which I believe is a rose. As seen here, it contains a lot of very, very deep red--just about brown.

Center flower creates a line with 2 end flowers.

I dislike the line it creates with the two Irises on each end, of the same color. It also, to my eyes, clashes with the rest of the pastel flowers. So even though I'm not going to work on it right away, I tore out the darkest of that flower, and in my opinion, looks much improved already. Not sure which tones of color I will re-hook it with, but it will be more in keeping with the general tone of the other flowers.

 

Dark color has been removed from center flower.

A pretty evening sky last week:

 

Approaching the last corner

Bear cubs a few years ago

Progress on the antique rug has been steady and good; I am approaching the final corner.

I most especially love hooking out on the deck. It's so peaceful and beautiful with bird song, squirrel antics, and chipmunk visits. The Humming Bird feeder currently sits on the rail of the deck and every now and then the hum of approaching wings, beating rapidly, hails the arrival of an iridescent fascination.

After the Lilacs wrapped up their stint of perfuming the yard, the Mock Orange took over, and heady it is. In the evening, the posh fragrance of a scented Daylily brings high, heavenly delight. It would be an expensive parfum if bottled.

It all makes for the perfect 'work' environment, though work is not really an apt description of the task. Hooking, after the initial period of discovery and practice, is a most pleasant endeavor. Like all other crafts that are repetitive in nature: needlepoint, hand sewing, knitting, etc. I experience a period of struggle(?) at the outset of taking it in hand. It seems impossibly slow, how in the world will I ever finish an entire rug!? Then a period of tedium might follow. But with perseverance (this is key) little discoveries are made that make the execution flow. The glitchy-ness subsides and a relaxing confidence is born. It doesn't take long thereafter for a sense of Zen to settle in. But the key is to persevere through the discouragement.

I'm feeling very good about the way the rug is revealing itself. It is just the look I love, 'cottage core' as they say these days; rustic, unashamed hand work. Love it!

Other than the rug, I've been finishing the processing of the Wensleydale fleece. Left to right: Scoured and picked, scoured but unpicked (center), and the plastic bag contains a bit of unscoured raw fleece.

 

Tour de Fleece starts next week and although I haven't given it much thought this year, I may make the spinning of this fleece a project for the month. 

 

 

A Visit to The Newbury School of Weaving

Earlier this year I signed up for a day-long workshop at The Newbury School of Weaving in Newbury, VT. The class I enrolled in is called "Introduction to the Great Wheel" and my class was held Saturday, 9:30 am to 4:30 pm. It was a fabulous experience.

Now, I have spun on my great wheel before, learning from videos (mostly) and articles and books. Although I can make yarn this way, I have always felt that having a real-life teacher would go a long way to filling in gaps and answering questions. I was right.

Newbury is just over the border in VT, less than 30 miles northwest of here. It's a very pretty town and the school occupies an old church on the common.

The drive up was beautiful, skirting the west side of Mount Moosilauke and the sometimes rugged looking terrain to the northwest of it. It was covered with a fresh coat of snow from the night before! I took this picture of Moosilauke some years ago, in the winter time, not far from my house: 

Stepping into the Newbury School was like time traveling. The sights, the sounds, the smells, all of it. A large cavernous space just beyond the entry vestibule is filled to capacity with counterbalanced barn looms. I have never seen so many humongous looms in one room before. A veritable forest of looms and accoutrements. At the far end of the room were 3 or 4 rows of spinning wheels of all shapes and sizes. A large work table separates the wheels from the looms.

Some of the looms had works in progress on them. The makings of warmth-providing blankets of wool that had been processed, spun, and woven there. What a joy. Here and there, bits of woven cloth, and shelves full of cones of yarn add splashes of color to the ambience. But wood, old patinated wood, predominates this large gathering place of antique weaving machinery. Heaven.

The class was everything I had hoped for and was very well structured. After a morning chit-chat to introduce ourselves and talk about our spinning, we were given some pencil roving to spin according to the demonstration our instructor had provided. This was a brilliant way to learn the movements of spinning on the great wheel. We learned how to wind off onto a reel and keep track of yardage.

When we returned from lunch, it was time to pick some scoured wool. We sat in a ring, encircling a large galvanized tub into which we tossed our fresh picked locks. This was conversation time. It felt like days gone by when people would get together to tackle a time-consuming task. Our lovely conversation touched on the historical aspects of spinning and weaving techniques, and quite a range of other making-related topics. It is an atmosphere from which one drinks deeply of the joy of life.

We were then given cards--cotton cards, much to my surprise! No. 10 cotton cards, and they worked fabulously. As soon as I got home Saturday evening, I found a pair on eBay and ordered them immediately. Then we approached the wheels again with our newly carded rolls and revisited our spinning moves only this time drafting out with the left hand.

At the end of the day I felt very satisfied with all that I had experienced and learned. The holes in my knowledge were filled in, new knowledge obtained, and confidence built.

Here is the 120 yds of highly energized singles I made during class, waiting to be bathed in hot water:

(Footnote. Progress on the rug was good last week as the weather was suitable for working on it outside.)