Spinzilla

Spinzilla... it's a monster! RAWR!

This year's Spinzilla challenge was much tougher than previous years'. No, the objective was still to spin the most yards, but now we had a baseline. Goals were set, records prepared to be shattered. Strategies and preparations were made, we got hyped up. While I was going thru my fiber stash I found this little gem, the first yarn I spun on this wheel! It's random wool that came with the machine, and I still haven't knit with it... (let's not talk about my stash problems.)

Since Team Fancy Tiger won last year, we had the pressure to repeat our victory. There was shit talking, well as much as some nice crafting ladies and gents can do...

 My first bobbin, and about my largest! I discovered that my bulky flyer can hold about 13 oz. of sock weight singles, which is way too much for our counting helpers to handle at once! After this I would give smaller bobbins over to them for winding off...

For the most part I was spinning thru a bunch of alpaca given to me by Mr. Crafty, some Gotland greys from New Zealand, and the mystery wool I bought in Ireland. Thus, that pile of finished objects is pretty plain in color. But I did have a few colorful braids given to me!

My final total was 6756 yards, 7 lbs. of fiber. 7 breeds, 2 species, 3 countries of origin, 5 natural colors. Half of the fiber was hand processed by me. One spinner who is looking forward to knitting for a while...

Team Fancy spun over 171,000 yards, which is almost 100 miles of yarn. We have our work cut out for us next year!

Wooly New Zealand

 While the scenery and cultural attractions are spectacular in New Zealand, we all know what I really came for - WOOL.

 Following a tip, we rolled into Tally Ho Ranch, which is unique in hosting a number of different breeds, many are colored. The typical field here is filled with Merino, Corriedale and Rambouillet. Here, Gotlands, Cheviot, and others made for a more diverse flock. Also, Look at that cute wittle sheepy! Look. At. It.

Not pictured, but definitely also cute - newborn (like 3 hours old!) Shetland ponies. There was a lot of Daaaaws to be had.

 They also had a classic old carding machine, here the owner was demoing making a fluffy alpaca batt that will be used to stuff a comforter top.

 Aaaaaand this is the wool storage barn. Makes my craft room look pretty empty... I guess I'll buy some more fiber!

 Ooooh, look at that silver and charcoal Gotland! Hey, don't look at me like that! I spun up a pound and a half for Spinzilla, I have room for another Kilo... right?

 Yea... I know you're judging me little merinos...

 We also stopped into the town of Milton, following rumors of a mill and mill ends shop. Notice the angled roofs? That's to allow light in at certain angles. Where the wool is stored and sorted one wants indirect south light (southern hemisphere remember?) for a clear view of the fiber, and of course too much direct sun can damage the wool after a while.

 

In the Mill End shop there was a corner dedicated to being a museum, photos of the mill works and products from the early days up to the modern era were pegged up on boards. Old tools and machines were displayed. There were even old sample books showcasing the fabrics being produced there from the 30s to mid-70s.

 Even this hardened veteran of dozens of fiber museums saw a novel piece - this device "used to measure the twist of yarn".

The mill was Milton's main industry for almost a hundred years, and so the town remembers its "King". Many people who settled in this area were of Scottish descent, so the get-up is probably meant to harken to the olden days in the homeland.

And naturally, I sampled a range of their products! All these little balls are true "ends", leftovers from the weaving, plying, or skeining process. They were very cheap, and so cute, and I got a whole bunch, and... don't look at me like that! Several were actually very tough "Carpet Wool" that I will use for slippers.

 Our next little fiber stop was a total surprise, stumbled across in the small town of Hokiteka. The Sock Knitting Machine Museum and Shop. An entire wall lined with old machines of various makes and models, and a looping video of the owner demonstrating knitting machine techniques.

 Turns out the shop is manufacturing new machines, when we were there one was being tested before being sent to Switzerland! (Is there no where closer to buy a knitting machine I wonder?)

 The shop in fact had it's own little mill set up, carders, spinning machines, sweater knitters and more. An entirely self contained little venture, which seems to be capable of making o good deal of product in a fairly small space. My entrepreneurial mind was much intrigued.

 I indulged in some possum yarns there, and at a larger yarn shop. Possum are an introduced pest, and there is a bounty on killing them as they devastate native birds. The dead possum are skinned, and the fiber shaved off. It's a short, fine fiber that is hollow like Alpaca, and thus very warm. All four of these are hand-dyed and super soft, a blend of %20 possum with %80 merino is standard.

I also chanced to visit the Turnbull family (That's my Father's side) Wool Store (That's storage to us Americans, a warehouse.) My cousin showed us various samples, and explained wool grading. Each fleece is classed based on micron thickness, staple length, color, cleanliness and crimp. The far left clump is 'junk' wool destined for carpets and quilt batting. The middle pieces all variations on the finest grades, they were so fine the individual fibers almost disappeared when held up to the light. The final piece is the only bale of colored wool in the whole place... looks like us handspinners are the only ones interested in natural colors.

 I also kept my needles moving the whole trip, if I could only knit as fast as I buy yarn! Those purple pieces are Irish wool from my last trip, perfect for a global wool experience.

Oamaru - Steampunk Capital of New Zealand

Or so proclaimed a large rusty water tank outside of town along the main highway. I had heard rumors about this, my relatives (in their 50s and not exactly hip to the cosplay scene) had told me that this old town was where the steampunkers are - "Penny Farthing capital of the world..."

So, with curiosity and excitement, I exited the highway to drive thru the downtown area. The area was home to a large limestone quarry, so all the buildings are built in a lovely white stone splendor. Very nice, and certainly a good backdrop for an event, but other than festivals is there anything steamy going on here?

But down by the dock I spotted it, and I was not disappointing!  The locals had embraced this aesthetic, and built a playground with strange contraptions doubling as playthings.

We then continued south to Dunedin, another older city. Mind you, no city on the island predates the mid-1800s. This simply means that the downtown areas often were built in decadent Victorian splendor. 

This, is the train station. Every floor was tiled in minute mosaic with train motifs. Every wall completely covered in relief tiles. The windows were stained glass. The wood trim and bannisters were carved. Every. Single. Surface. All this for a waystation, a limnal space that one passes thru for just a few moments. It makes the local Airport look like a trailer park.

With such fine buildings abounding, it's no wonder that people feel pulled to return to a more genteel era. With airships and clockworks of course...

Welcome to New Zealand - Lake Tekapo

 I'm busy touring the other side of the planet with Mr. Crafty Bitch, here the days are getting longer and flowers are blooming. It will be shock to the system to go back into winter when we get home...

We flew into Christchurch, and then drove down to an old family town - Timaru. Word to the wise, do not, after flying for 20 hours, rent a stick shift car, and drive on the wrong side of the road. To be clear, I'm not a total amateur. I've owned manual transmission cars before, even if I've never achieved a real grace in driving them. However, when the driving side is flipped the stick side is as well, and I keep flailing around with my right hand searching for the gear shift. I also have been turning on the windshield wipers instead of signaling. At least I can see clearly out the front eh?

So, after recovering from Jet Lag for a day or two, I decided to buck up and try driving a stick, on the other side of the road, up a windy mountain pass. Well worth it I'd say...

 This is a very old church on the shores of the lake, a little tiny thing. But instead of an alter or a pulpit, there is a big window which looks out on the Southern Alps. A lot nicer than some dusty saints I'd say...

 The water was strikingly blue! A deep turquoise that made the sky look dull, and the white of the snow capped mountains made for a fantastic view! It was rather windy and chilly however, even in the bright sun.

 There was a statue commemorating the working sheep dogs, probably the most important pioneers to come over from Europe!

Behind that hillside, hiding in the clouds, would be Mt. Cook. Tallest peak on the Islands. On that hill side, one is looking for a very different type of view. The air here is very clear, and the little town is the only nearby settlement. All the street lights here are hooded, so their light shines only straight down. There is an observatory on the hill top, and it's considered a fantastic stargazing site.

A great way to dip our toes into the sights of the south!