This is a turning song . . .

Ive been winding Cascade these last few days. Yeah, no kidding. Two hundred and twenty yards per skein and six skeins to get one of each color. That's one thousand three hundred and twenty yards.

Consider that if the estimate in MDK is correct, I'll need to wind about 20 skeins, possibly 24, since I'm working with multiples of six. That works out to between four thousand four hundred yards and five thousand two hundred eighty. Just how many yards are in a mile? I don't want to think about it.

It makes me realise how much I love my yarn swift.


















No reaching around and around a chair back. No imposing on restless sons. No testing the devotion of the husband who thinks I just might be going a little too far back to nature with this knitting thing.

I don't feel the need for a ball-winder. I like touching the yarn and I don't really want to work with a center-pull ball anyway. My whirl-a-gig and I are a great pair.

Look at this. It's better than straw into gold.

The best money I've spent, at least on something that wasn't yarn. It's quiet. Hardworking. Ready to go with minimal set-up.

It folds up into sculpture when I'm done.

Who needs Rumpelstiltskin?

Oh. And lest I forget again. The Red Scarf marches on. I've finished the eleventh repeat which, I figure, puts me just a smidgen past the half-way point!