On The Road Again

Greetings from Albuquerque

Isn't this sad?  An empty porch, rocking chairs tucked away for the winter.  I winterized the house before once again following the wise dictum of Horace Greeley to
"Go West."  After a 1500 mile, 3-day dash across country, I am in Albuquerque, happily weaving and spinning with Cousin Betsy.  But let me bring you across country.....

Campground #1 was in east Memphis, TN.  I forced myself to drive no more than 500 miles in a day.  When driving west into the sunset, it's too easy for me to drive and drive and drive until I practically collapse, so I had campground reservations for both nights.  This campground could accommodate 300 RVs, and was clearly what I label as utilitarian.  Many of the RVs seem to be housing for workers and families, with at least a few through-drivers like me.  The campground hostess was a delightful woman, a bit older than me, who lives there full time with a sweet little white and tan long haired chihuahua; the woman makes and sells jewelry at the farmers market which is adjacent.  

Upon arrival, I took a walk to....

 The campground is part of a very large complex which includes the agricultural service and, at this time of year....a corn maze with live country music.  Quite enjoyable.  

When traveling, I prefer to reach the far side of a city, so as to avoid as much traffic as possible.  Such was not the case with Memphis.  I was on the east side so had to traverse the city during rush hour.....without coffee.  When I did finally find a place to stop, the coffee was so dreadful, I tossed it out.  Finally, I was saved by the sight of the Golden Arches; they have good coffee, so I could continue without committing road rage.  I was aiming for just west of Oklahoma City, which, of course, meant rush hour on that end, but it wasn't too bad, although in places the road surface was like the moon.

 

As I crossed the Mississippi and began to drift into Arkansas and toward my destination just west of Oklahoma City, I saw my first and only political signage on a vehicle.  Can you tell which vehicle is mine?  I exchanged pleasantries with the driver, who I do not think had seen my home made H.

That night's stay was a KOA, which tended toward utilitarian though I had a pleasant view from a pull through site.  The campground was right next to I40 so was a tad noisy, but I likened it to listening to waves crashing on a beach.  The next morning, I treated myself to a good breakfast and then continued to wend my way to Albuquerque.  At a gas station in a very urban area, I encountered

......a rooster.  I have no idea what it was doing there or where it came from.  It is these little things that keep me traveling.   As I made my way through Oklahoma, I saw hundreds of windmills, or wind turbines, as I guess they are now called.  There is something magical about them, whether they are arrayed on the open plains or stand solitary in town.

This one is in Tucumcari, on the old Route 66, lonely yet proud.  And soon I was in Albuquerque, with Betsy teaching me to weave on this little handmade loom.  She's letting me take it with me to Tonto, for which I am quite delighted, as it is probably more similar to the type of loom used by the Salado Indians than my more modern style.

I leave tomorrow for Tonto, so will post again next week.  Happy Traveling to All.

Lazing in Albuquerque

Several of you have wondered as to my whereabouts and activities.  I landed at Cousin Betsy's in Albuquerque, where, in between getting a spare car key cut so I could lock the dogs in the car with the AC on, buying dog food since traveling with my homemade stuff is not easy, and getting a new touch pad for my McBook Pro, I've been playing with  LLAMA FLEECE.

A friend in Wise gave me the fleece from her two llamas.  I've been wanting to wash, card, spin, and weave it, just to be able to say  "Oh, yes. I washed, carded, spun, and wove it myself."  Of course, if I really, really wanted to be a fiber snob, I'd grow the llama and shear it myself.

I started with one tub of llama fleece....unwashed, but, fortunately, not too dirty.

 Then, I wrapped a portion of the fleece in mosquito netting and immersed it gently in tepid, soapy water.  These activities take place in the back yards and back porch.

I swished very, very gently, so as not to turn the fleece into felt.  I let it sit for awhile, then swished again.  After half an hour or so, I lifted the netting, heavy now with wet fleece, out of the tub and onto

 Betsy's clothesline, where I let it drip while I emptied the water from the wash tub, refilled, and gently immersed.....  Repeat until water runs clear, 3 to 4 times.

It is at this point, looking at all the water I'm using for a very small batch of fleece, that I begin to wonder how the Navajos wash sheep fleece in arid Navajo country.  Betsy and I postulated stock tanks.  After the final rinse, I spread a sheet on the ground and scattered the wet fleece around to dry.

Gradually, clean fleece accumulated

until I had a pile and was ready to card.  A friend of Betsy's had lent her a drum carder

which  turns fleece into spinnable fiber, called a batt,  much easier than using hand carders.  I tried with a hand carder once, for about five minutes and knew I would have been an abject failure as a pioneer.  I fed the fleece into the drum carder, turned the handle, and voila, something resembling a spinnable object began to appear.

I moved to the front porch as the back porch faces west.  A wonderful work space. The batt  produced by a novice (moi) resembles a Halloween fright wig.

Trust me.  A professionally carded batt does notnotnot look like a Halloween fright wig.  But I'm new at this so.....  I now have a small stack of Halloween fright wigs

which will one day become yarn.

All of the above supervised, gently and with love, by