moving

At long last, Feisty Fibers is leaving blogspot and moving to wordpress.

Check out the new blog here:

http://sarahsfeistyfibers.wordpress.com/

Hope to see you there!

How to prepare the not-so-scary fleece.

So, remember about this time last year when I went to the Maine Fiber Frolic and bought my first ever fleece?


Well, it turns out that a fleece is kind of a scary thing. It's big. It's dirty. It smells sheepy. It's not all tidy and combed and ready to go. Where do you even begin?

Well, to begin with, you want to tidy it up a bit, so hand sort it so that all the really gross bits are out.
To deal with the less gross bits, you need to wash it.

Tip 1: Use a big laundry bag! It's harder than it looks to deal with a wet fleece and it helps prevent agitation so that you don't felt your beautiful fleece.Tip 2: Use Dawn dish soap. You can buy expensive wool soaps, but Dawn will get the job done -- it gets grease off your dishes, why not lanolin off your fleece?

So, I started with a simple rinse.


Seems straightforward doesn't it?
It is until you get this:


Only one word for it. Gross.

This brings us to Tip 3: Make sure you have an outside space where it is ok to dump a lot of water. And so you don't bring the smell of eau de wet sheep in your house.
After a few rinses, I went ahead for the wash. I filled a tub of water, added Dawn until foamy and added my fleece. And let it sit there awhile.



And rinse.
And repeat.And repeat.
Keep going with the "wash/rinse" until the water goes (mostly) clear.
Then, spread out your fleece on a big towel or net to dry in the sunshine.


At this point, the wool is wet and sticks to your hands in long tendrils and you'll want to just wring it out. Don't. If you must, roll it up into your towel and pat it a bit. And then just be patient -- it will dry, I promise.

Now, all of this was done in North Carolina between me moving from Maine and moving out to Missouri (remember Tip 3). Since that time, it's been bundled up in an old pillowcase, just waiting to be loved. A note on storage: never store your fleece in a plastic bag. It'll get warm and cosy and you may end up with moldy wool. Also, the longer you wait to wash your fleece, the grosser it gets. So do this part, and then stash it away for awhile.

Now that it's summer and I'm mostly done with classes and the first half of my prelim (woohoo!), I decided it was time to be brave and dive in.

So, like the good graduate student I am, I started researching what I should be doing. "Comb it first" some people say. Others claim you can spin straight from the fleece (yeah, right!). So what to do?

I came across my New Favorite Fiber Website, The Earth Guild site on carding.
Now, I've never bought anything from this site, but it has such great tutorials that I would seriously consider it in the future.

This website taught me how to properly card wool. I tried it on my messy scary fleece that still looked awfully sheep like...and got heavenly puffy rolags.















So, what's next?

The actual spinning. I can't wait.
And as this wonderful website says,

Spinning, as everyone knows, is magic.

Rite of Passage

I have a wise friend, mentor, and role model, KL. She's a graduate student at Yale and is fantastic -- she's a fiber lover, was one of my first friends at college, and is my go-to person when my life (seems like it) is going to pieces.

Most recently, of course, this was about my prelim.

I took nearly two weeks off, simply to devote to studying. And before that, I was mostly working half days to study. I've eaten my weight in bagels, just so I can sit at my favorite big table at Einstein Bros. across the street and get a bunch done.

Of course, because it is me, I had many crises of confidence. One minute I was fine, the next I was absolutely positive I would fail the exam and be sent packing. I find my identity through my work -- whether it is work in the lab or academics or working at a horse stables or spinning wool, I judge my worth based on the scores and praise and affirmation of others. I'm not saying it is a good thing (it isn't) and I'm working on changing that part of myself, but it's there.

KL gave me very sage advice, though. "This is a rite of passage. Rites of passage are designed to be scary going in, but when you're done you get to say 'that wasn't so bad!'"

And she was right.
But only after it was completely done.

I got to the genetics library (where I took my prelim with the other genetics students) at 8:30 for the sole reason of turning on the lights that buzzed the least. (Aside: these are serious buzzing lights. High school gym type of buzzing. Maybe start to actually go insane kind of buzzing).

People trickled in, I sat and studied. The test was handed out at 9:30. Half a bagel, a cup of coffee, a liter of water later (thank goodness for nalgenes), and SIX HOURS later, I left barely able to form complete sentences.

You read that correctly. Six hours. The test was so thick they couldn't staple it. The last person to leave took 7 and a half hours. It was a serious test.

This morning, though, this was in my inbox:

Dear MGG First Years,

Congratulations, everyone passed the written prelim exam (and with room to
spare)!!!

Thank goodness!!!

So what that means is I passed.
KL was right -- now I can look back and say "it wasn't so bad!" Well, maybe tomorrow I can say that.

In the meantime, I'm taking a break from science and from school for awhile.

But boy am I glad I passed! :)

Aunt Ruth

My mum called with sad news yesterday - my great-aunt Ruth (my mum's mother's sister) died. She had been failing for some time, and I am glad that she is out of pain now. All the same, a death is always sad.

As you might imagine, I wasn't very close with my Aunt Ruth - she is of my grandmother's generation and lived in California (with the rest of my mum's family), but I have a few lovely memories of her.

The first I remember clearly, she took my mum and me to White's Bakery in Hawthorne (I think). Knowing I wouldn't want coffee, she brought cocoa just for me. And I had my first meringue. Talk about a life-changing experience.

The last time I was in California (which is waaayyy too long ago now), I went with Aunt Ruth (and various other members of my family) to the horse races, the first live thoroughbred races I'd been to. It was a wonderful day.

Besides those memories, it's amazing how much she impacted just my every day life.
Those of you who know me are familiar with phrases that I think everyone knows, but it turns out it's just me...all those came from Aunt Ruth. Things like "fine as frog's hair" for being really, really good (or really really sarcastic), "jump up and down and scratch" for getting excited about something, and, the one people think I'm the most crazy for, "While you're up, Catherine" which is directed at anyone (not just Catherine who is one of Aunt Ruth's sisters) for them to hop up and get you something from the other room.

Channeling fun times in Syme.

Yesterday, after an hour at the gym and several hours studying on my own and with other first-years in my program for the prelim, I went out with a friend, JB, on a quest to find her some "strappy sandle-y black nicer than flip-flops sandals." 1 trip to PayLess, 1 to WalMart, and a trip to two different Targets and we have her shoes. I was really hoping to get a pair like them in orange (because who doesn't need orange flats??), they didn't have my size. Something to look for.

My big purchase (apart from kitty litter for Patty), was a new box fan. Somehow, none of my fans from Syme managed to make the trip to St. Louis, mostly because my mum has comandeered the smaller ones, and the bigger ones I ended up using for my horses, and, well, that's just never a good idea to bring back into the house.

But now I am the proud owner of a Galaxy box fan.

Poor Patty can't decide if she likes it or not. She's upset that she can't look out that window any more, but when she finishes fussing about that, she lies on her back in front of the fan enjoying the breeze.
She looks pretty comfy, doesn't she?

It has made a world of difference in my room. With the jump from mid-50s to 60s weather all the way up to upper-70s to 90s weather, I think it was a good time to get it.

And now to study in my nice, breezy room!

body fibers

Today is The Saturday Before the Prelim. Last Saturday, I was doing other things other than studying thinking "I've got about two weeks to study! I can learn anything in that time!" Well, one week is already gone. I've only got the 'about' left.

With all this studying means a lot of sitting in non-ergonomic positions at the library, coffee shops, my desk, you name it, balancing papers, old prelims, a year's worth of notes and exams, and my computer, leaning over and under and sideways, pivoting without moving my bum, generally not being nice to my body.

Add that to eating poorly at all hours (which stems from not having much food that I want to eat and not enough time or patience to cook the food I want or go get easier food), not sleeping well, and next to no exercise. Plus the mind games of "what if I don't pass?" and guilt when I'm NOT studying and low spirits to high spirits depending on what I know when.

My poor body is rebelling. Today I can barely sit up straight for the muscle stiffness in my back and neck. I've been wearing my glasses for days because my eyes refuse to deal with contacts. My bad knee is even starting to ache again.


So what's a girl to do?

Start taking care of her body, that's what.

For starters, I'm taking the morning off of studying. I studied hard all day yesterday and am meeting up with other MGG first-years to study this afternoon, and I want to be fresh for it.

I'm going to try really really hard to get to the gym every day this week. (Except Thursday, I'm not quite THAT optimistic.) And I'm going to try to take it easy in there, but I need to get my body moving again.

I used to be quite fit, and, when I was, I felt better, I could do more, and I was happier. But this week, I'm just going to get moving. When I get back from my various adventures in the next few weeks, I'm going to dig out my work-out schedule when I was getting ready for the wilderness trip -- I do much better when I have a plan.

Plus, exercise has been found to have positive psychological benefits -- that's right, it means it'll make me less stressed out, better centered, allow me to channel my Caldwellian spirit. AND studies have shown that studying while exercising doesn't have the same benefits as the same exercise without. Which also means I'll have to take a break and let my mind relax.

So here's to keeping sane and getting back on speaking terms with my body!

Without the map the road is still the road

I've been having a hard time keeping perspective the last few days. It seems like if I fail my prelim, everything is over. But it isn't, not really. The sun has the convenient habit of getting up each morning, the day will go on. If I happen not to be a graduate student at the end of it, that's ok. I'd be good at doing lots of things.

Andy Wilkinson is a cowboy poet I had the great opportunity to meet, talk with, and listen to several years ago at one of the UHP's pre-exam pancake slam (I think it was still called the pre-exam somethin'-somethin' because we didn't know what we were going to do). One of his songs is "Without the map the road is still the road." It helps with the whole perspective thing.

If I stop being a grad student, this will have still been a great (though stressful) year where I learned a lot. Besides, I could always be a postal worker, right? Or an upholsterer?
Can't wait for this all to be over.
I sure hope I can hold on to the perspective.

When you wonder where you're goin', where you been and where you are,
Remember that the wise men followed nothin' but a star.
Across the trackless desert to Bethlehem they rode
Without the map the road is still the road.
Without the map the road is still the road.

Dorothy and the lion and their pals of straw and tin
Had no guidebook of instruction to get out like they got in.
But it didn't make no nevermind, they hit those bricks of gold,
'Cause without the map the road is still the road.

Without the map the road is still the road.
Every step is a journey, every journey is a step.
When your heart's gone to yearnin' and your soul's gone for help.
Ink lines ain't white lines, the routes don't make the roads,
Without the map the road is still the road.
Without the map the road is still the road.

All you need's a wide horizon and the ground beneath your feet,
And tomorrow is as certain as the sidewalk and the street.
Shiftin' sands and yellow bricks and every white lines shows that
Without the map the road is still the road.

Without the map the road is still the road.
Every step is a journey, every journey is a step.
When your heart's gone to yearnin' and your soul's gone for help.
Ink lines ain't white lines, the routes don't make the roads,
Without the map the road is still the road.
Without the map the road is still the road.

Without the map the road is still the road.
Without the map the road is still the road.