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When I sit at night at my wheel and pick up that twisted strand of fiber, the one that faithfully hangs for the orifice, the one that invites me in, invites me to sit and be and watch as the all the individual threads glide into one spun single, I feel the focal point become crisp. I sense the world dropping away. I feel guided down steep steps.
I was chased by three angry female guanacos while my husband attempted to hold them off long enough for me to carry the new baby to the barn.
The baby is coming
I imagine and wait
I knit and wait
Knitting makes all the difference
From the publisher's feed
A farm lifestyle podcast about raising exotic animals called guanacos, getting back to nature, making things by hand and living with every fiber of our being. We hope you join us for the…