I've been doing a lot more spinning lately. While the several tons of fiber I've accumulated over the years does provide a nice amount of insulation, it's been taking up space. Without turning into yarn. In spite of my best efforts, no amount of wishful thinking makes roving spontaneously metamorphose into yarn.
Apparently, I forgot about the most important step of the process to change the fiber from nice fluffy batts of wool to yarn I can knit with. Spinning!
Carol is walking (when she feels like it) and crawling all over the place. Now that she's fully mobile, I'm trying to train her to ignore the spinning wheel. She'd have to try hard to injure herself with it, but she's a clever lass. I'm certain she'll figure out a way.
So every time she touches the spinning wheel, whether it's in motion or not, I slap her hand and say "no touching the spinning wheel!"
As I was spinning some silk today, the drive band kept falling off the wheel. Carol, of course, tried to "help" me fix it. After that, when I didn't notice that she had been playing with the wheel, she got my attention and did it again. She spun the wheel, and dutifully held out her hand to me for a disciplinary smack. I could almost see the gears turning in her baby head.
"I want to play with the beautiful spinning thingy, but every time I touch it, Mama smacks my hand away. But if that's the price of playing with it I think I can live with it. Maybe I should make this process as easy for Mama as possible--just smack my hand so I can get back to playing with it!"