First Person
The Tourist Tap
One of the more seasoned hands I work with at the Fenimore Farm and Country Village knows the ebb and flow of museum life as well as a lobsterman knows the tides. When it comes to visitors, a faucet opens up on Memorial Day weekend and just keeps flowing until Labor Day, which is when it shuts off again.
After three-plus years as a historic interpreter at the museum, I can confirm. We’re now in the busy season.
This part of the living history life cycle is great. Talking about textiles (and other history tidbits) is 100% my jam. I can flap on about warps and wefts and cochineal and madder until the cows come home for milking. Which they quite literally do.
Upside: it looks pretty good, wonky selvedges and all! Downside: the warp was a yard or two too short, so I need to re-thread the loom and weave another length like this one!
Every season, I pick a new part of the old skills to focus more time on. Last year, I wanted to up my weaving game and took on a large shawl project. Because math is a fickle beast no matter which century you approach it from, my warp was shorter than intended, which means that I’ll be weaving another yard (or four) this season to finish it up.
Second warp; hopefully the same as the first warp.
It’s not only the visitors who get an education, ya know?
This year I’ve declared as my spinning year. While I know the basics, all that stands between me and being merely adequate is weeks and weeks and weeks of practice. The months will pass anyway. Might as well make use of ’em.
My office, most days.
Thanks to the Greater Cumberland Fibershed, who brought bags and baskets of prepared fleece to Nash Yarn Fest in March, I brought two ounces of Shetland roving back home. (I also brought a big ol’ trash bag full of merino/babydoll roving—but I’ve only begun to make a mess of that.)
The Shetland spun up pretty quickly during the first few quiet weeks of our season. The yarn turned out OK, I guess. I mean, it’s technically yarn. I didn’t get so irritated with it that I chucked it into the fire or tossed it into the compost.
It is, however, uneven, with thicks and thins. Gauge wanders, is what I’m saying, which made figuring out what to do with a small amount of unpredictable yarn tricky.
Mitts, I thought. Who doesn’t like mitts?
While the Diagonal Mitts from MDK Field Guide No. 18: Beginnings are designed for a sock-weight yarn, there’s no reason they can’t be whipped up in whatever’s nearby. You’re essentially making two rectangles, then stitching up two seams.
I divided my ball of handspun in half, guessed on a needle size, and knitted away. My goal was to waste as little of my yarn as possible.
Again, math is a fickle beast. I flew too close to the sun with mitt #2 and grabbed some nearby wool (held double) to finish it up. Call the sassy butter yellow wedge a design feature.
I finished them up just in time for the warmer weather’s arrival. But chillier days will come around again, right around the time the tourist tap shuts off in the fall.
The buttery yellow is a lesson in make-do. A good example for the tourists.
Exactly! Make do and rerun the math!
I love your office!
I would wear those with pride. Love “the design feature.”
I mistakenly knit the same fingerless mitt twice … different design on each side. My daughter considered them a design feature. Her fellow train riders loved them!!!
This sounds very much like a me move.
Of course it’s a butterfly! Or a feather found on the ground as a lovely yellow bird flew by. And oh! I absolutely love the rug. You’re displaying these beauties upon.
I love your idea of choosing a new skill each year!! Thank you for a fun column!
A few weeks ago, my husband was out of town and I decided to try to go without electricity for 24 hours. It may have been because I was thinking about you and your regular trips to the 1840s, and how fascinating it is to try to place oneself in a place without the magic juice that fuels many, many of my daily tasks, amusements, and wastes of time.
“Flew too close to the sun”.
Love it!!!
I live in broome county, we plan a cooperstown trip every year. In early may we went to the fenimore farm. We got our visit in between light rain. It was my first time in the wool, knitting, weaving house. What a nice place. I had on a knitted cardigan, the docent didn’t even ask, she gave me a shall pattern. It might be a challenge for me.
I am glad you enjoyed the farm! Give the pattern a try. What’s the worst that happens?
The thick and thin spun yarn can definitely be by choice. It can also improve with practice. But also, try a sample spinning from one end of roving, then try from the other end. Wool scales are directional and one way is usually easier and therefore more consistent.
You just blew my mind. I’ll be giving this a try!
Golly, and I thought my primary bugaboo other than skill, was fiber prep. Excellent info, thank you thank you.
Wow, interesting suggestion re trying different directions with drafting. Who knew. Definitely going to pull my wheel out again and have a go. Been years, mostly because I am so bad at it. Or, busy.
Weaving math is a beast. Knitting math seems a bit easier. Working on the fly and adjusting is the way to go for fun and learning. What a fun job!
Very interesting and calming
Great article! And what a great idea to make the mitts in worsted. I will be doing this too!