November 22, 2009

I think my spinning wheel leads a double life and other similar things.

I think my spinning wheel lives a double life. In fact I am sure of it. I wonder if it spends time in faeryland when I'm not using it? Why I hear you ask? Each time I begin using my wheel I have to adjust the tension it is always too loose. I always leave it on the correct tension for what I'm spinning it makes it easier when I come back to it. It is never correct, always very loose.
We went to see Mr and Mrs Laal Bear yesterday and on both journeys the string came off the wheel and the tension knob was fully open. I wouldn't have thought the motion of the car could unscrew a wooden knob, would you?
I'm putting it down to the wee folk enjoying a little spinning. They probably collect the bits of fleece the sheep leave behind on fences and hedgerows. How else would they have warm clothes for the winter months?
It gets better:)
Since I had my hair cut fairly short some years ago I have never used hairclips or slides. Had no need to really.
Yesterday my fringe was irritating me, it has grown and kept going in my eyes while spinning. I've not yet booked a trip to the local college for a trim so I decided to snip the fringe this morning to help. Just a few centimetres but it makes all the difference. While putting my scissors back in the drawer in the craft room I followed my usual , almost daily , habit of pulling an angel card out of the tub to see what the word for the day was.
I pulled not one but 2 cards, fastened together with a hair clip. Something I don't have in the house.
With all the amazement at this event I forgot to remember the words that came out.
Spooky or what?


Debra She Who Seeks said...

The faeries were thanking you for the use of your spinning wheel!

Blue Witch said...

They're clearly trying to communicate (maybe their gratitude for the opportunity?), otherwise why would they make themselves so obvious?

Shame you didn't notice the linked cards... might have thrown some light on the matter.

I suspect there'll be more communicative attempts, until they think you understand them.

Poetry for Brigid Imbolc

  The Lake Isle of Innisfree BY  WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay a...