Llast Of The Llama

Day 284: The estimable Ogden Nash tells us
The one-l lama,
He's a priest.
The two-l llama,
He's a beast.
And I will bet a silk pajama 
There isn't any three-l lllama.

It's amazing how few people realize that the "three-l lllama" refers to a fire alarm..."three-alarmer"...but then, there is a large section of society which can't get two- and three-letter words right ("to" and "too," and gods forbid that they should have to rise to the challenge of "their," "there" and "they're").

Mr. Nash aside, I am done with my two-l llama. Even as I write, the third skein is hanging, weighted with a couple of bottles of water to stretch and set the twist. It's been a long time in the making, owing to the fact that a simple plastic part failed on my wheel, a part for which it took several years to find a supplier and longer for it to be stocked for sale. It was a five-minute fix once I had it in hand, slightly longer to find where I'd stashed the remaining wool, less than a week to finish up 503 yards (roughly 8 ounces) of soft, silky sportweight double-ply yarn.

Now I find myself in limbo between projects. The llama is off the wheel, the weaving is off the loom. More wool is due to arrive this weekend (a lovely grey Gotland from Swedish sheep), and four more cones of 8/2 cotton will be here before the end of the month, but for now, I need to find a way to keep my hands busy.

Plying

Day 277: Happy to finally have my spinning wheen back in operation after months of waiting for a silly little backordered part (the footman-to-treadle connector, a flexible plastic rod 8 mm. in diameter and approximately two inches long), I had even forgotten that I had one spindle of tan single-ply llama wool already done. I spun up an approximately equivalent amount on a second spindle, and then settled into the less-demanding job of turning two single plies into two-ply yarn.

Right now, you might be thinking, "Why not just spin a single thicker strand?" The answer is simple: strength. When spinning, the twist enters the yarn in the direction of an S or a Z depending on the spinner's preference. In plying, two strands are spun separately, each with the same twist, and then are recombined as a double-ply with the twist in the opposite direction. In other words, two S-twist single-ply strands are spun together with a Z-twist. In effect, this untwists the original strands slightly and allows a few fibers of wool to become entangled with each other, binding the strands together and making a stronger, more durable yarn in the end. I almost always ply my yarns unless I'm going for a "novelty" look. In this case, the resultant yarn is a nice sport-weight, more work, but double the fun of spinning.