
Soft, fluffed, felted, cloudy puff of wool linen swatch.
When the mega cone of this arrived from Habu, I wasn't sure how it would go, it felt tweedy, slightly harsh, perhaps, and it came right when I was having a little bit of an altercation with the Rowan Yorkshire 4ply Tweed, and I was wary.
I figured I'd do a little swatch...just to see...just to test...
This fibre is beautiful. It is very, very soft, wrap you up in cotton wool fluffy, felted enough to be tweedy without the harshness, and light as a puff of cloud. I'm staring at it, wanting to desperately take needles and wool and cast on and feel it's softness wrap around me.
I feel a little like I'm constantly working in extremes at the moment. On the one hand there is the Silk Stainless Steel jacket which is moving along nicely but is ever so fine and open. To start on this kit with much larger needles, in a much thicker yarn would be quite an antithesis to the stainless. The photos I take daily on flickr are getting grittier and rustier, which is quite the extreme to the things I pick out to have around me which are usually crisp and clean, polished, monochrome or exact in some way. I like these dichotomies. I like extremes and opposites, and I like to twist things to be something else, interpreted another way - to see other things.
But there is another extreme which is causing angst and frustration, and which I cannot reconcile, even at 1am as I type and try to find complete tiredness to sleep. In a weeks time I return to work. This time round I have so much more concern about leaving and seperating the mother from the worker. It seems a much bigger deal this time round. My baby is growing up, no longer a baby but rapidly becoming a toddler as she strikes out on her own two legs and starts walking [this weekend's trick], and I am so conscious of this time moving far too quickly, never to be repeated. I am pulling part of myself away from her for part of the week to work, and I feel so sad for the time I no longer will have exclusively with her. The pulling and tugging of heart over mind over practicality are the hardest extremes to manage.
I need the softness of a puff of wool linen to wrap me.