My mum and I share a common craziness love of all things crafty. When I was on holidays over there, we went on a yarn winding mission. She had a bunch of big cones of yarn that she’d picked up in my grandmother’s attic. The yarn is some 20 or 30 years old; my grandmother had bought it for nothing when one of the local garment factories closed down. It was all very fine yarn, most of it cobweb weight and a few others in lace weight. None of them were labelled so we have no idea what it’s made of.
Mum had been wanting to make balls of yarn out of it for a while now, but the enormity of the task put her off it. So what’s a girl to do but help her mama out and wind yarn for hours on end? Sounds crazy, but it was awesome fun! While I was winding the yarn, mum was preparing strips of paper, labelling them then wrapping them around the finished balls of yarn to keep them in place. We were so in our element, I think everyone around us thought we’d gone barmy.
We spent a few half-days on it here and there, when we had some spare time so that by the time I left, we’d managed to empty 12 cones, making a total of 179 balls of yarn. After that, my mum finished it all up on her own – and re-wound some that she’d done previously but not labelled so they were coming undone again – bringing our grand total to 240 balls. I don’t know that we’ll ever get around to knit all of that but that’s not the point here, right?