One Morning and 2 Ben Gay Patches Later

What a great title for a country song: One Morning and 2 Ben Gay Patches Later. "I woke up this mornin' and had to roll out of bed. I couldn't bend. I wished I were dead. My old lady left me, left my dog, left my truck. Now it's one morning and 2 Ben Gay patches later...." No, I am not heading to Nashville.

I have finally gotten my spinning wheel up and running. When I say "I", I mean that in the loosest interpretation of the word possible.

I got the double treadle kit took it out of the box and thought, "Hey, I am excited, but not stupid. I need someone with more experience to put this together." I convinced Craig that we could still pack our suitcase, the dog ourselves AND my wheel into a Hyundai Elantra for the trip to Louisville for Easter dinner. Then, I called my mom and she said, "Sure, your dad would love to put it together." Dad is a measure three times, cut once kind of guy. I won't even try to explain the CCR Picture Hanging Theorem. Suffice it to say it includes advanced geometry. So, since I wanted my spinning wheel fixed correctly, I waited a few days until the Easter weekend.

Saturday morning, I left my wheel in my dad's hands and went in pursuit of a gift for the Harlot in preparation for her trip to Lexington.

Dad has always been a kind of Mr. Fix-It around the house. We have a picture of me at 4 or so eating a bowl of pudding and "helping Daddy" by sitting on the end of a board he was sawing. I lost a toenail while "helping Daddy" build a dog house. My mom performed an outpatient toe nail-ectomy in my red wagon. Dad spent most of one summer putting together 10 speed bikes for the three of us. Until that point we had had old, rescued from the dump kind of bikes spray painted with Krylon. My dad also changed his own oil in the car. I will never forget the day my dad uttered one of the few profanities to escape his mouth as he emerged from underneath the car covered in oil to face a deacon, who had stopped by unscheduled, from the church he pastored. The deacon was a farmer and I am sure uttered more than a few profanities himself. We kids thought it was the best story to tell for quite some time.

When I returned from my errands, I had a double treadle spinning wheel. I could not wait to try it out. I spent most of the afternoon spinning and plying yarn while watching Larvae and Manticore on the Sci-Fi Channel while Mom made the famous jam cake with caramel frosting. By the time we went to dinner, I determined that perhaps a couple of Ben Gay patches would be helpful after all that treadling.

I LOVE my wheel. I enjoy spinning - well, when everything is humming along I really enjoy it. I only half enjoy it when I am having issues. I think about how my parents' love of art, craft and the pride in a job well done lives in me and my siblings. I appreciate that I have a supportive network of spouse, family and friends who, while they might not get what it is about fiber arts that I enjoy, let me do, talk and write about it to the point of obsession. It is even sweeter when they share in the obsession a wee bit.