Last night, as I was madly trying to finish off the plying of the last of the orange laceweight, so I could clear the bobbins for the Tour de Fleece, disaster struck.
The drivestring on my wheel finally gave up the ghost. Broke. Came unstrung. Went kerputt.
"Gorgonzola!" I shouted. "Mostaciolli! Frangiapane!" (That last one surprised me, since I don't even know how to pronounce it...)
Ten thousand pounds of fiber in the house, and not a bit of string to be had.
And a holiday weekend.
I was already going to be starting behind, since I had to work 9-5 today. The original plan involved finishing the orange last night, then maybe spinning my purple for a few minutes before leaving for work, and really digging in this evening when I got home.
Instead, I bought string at the store I work at (the evil of having to work today was thus balanced by the good of a store with string being open), made a new drivestring when I got home, and finally finally finished the orange.
I ended up with 1220 yards from a smidge over 7 ounces. (Is that good? I have no idea...)
So, here I am, as usual. A day late and a dollar short.