I have never mastered the craft of spinning yarn
ISUPPOSE we all leave bits and pieces of ourselves scattered behind us as we bumble along the bumpy path of life. For example, about 40 years ago I made a spinning wheel out of Karoo poplar wood and shipped it to the island of Tristan da Cunha. I wonder whether it is still there.
I was on a yacht returning from Uruguay after covering the South Atlantic race for the Cape Argus. Our skipper, 19-year-old Kate Steward, decided we’d do a small detour and visit the little island.
It was an opportunity not to be missed. Tristan is not much of a tourist trap and few outsiders ever go there. In those days the total population was less than 400. There’s no airport and only a very small and tricky harbour.
The Tristanians treated us with wonderful hospitality and we stayed for two days, exploring and meeting the island folk.
When we left they presented us with a box of cooked crayfish tails and a sack of wonderful yellow potatoes. As we pulled away from the shore the islanders lined up on the jetty and sang to us. Lumpin-throat stuff.
During our brief stay I noticed one woman sitting outside her house spinning wool on a very primitive spinning wheel that had to be turned by hand, as it had no treadle. It so happened that I had built two spinning wheels for friends, using a design from the Woodworker magazine.
Spinning wheels are fun to make and involve a lot of wood turning, which is a hobby of mine.
I offered to make one for the spinning lady and in return I was offered a model of a Tristan whaling boat (which now resides on my piano).
Some time later I loaded the completed spinning wheel on to the good ship Tristania and off it went. I’ve never actually mastered the craft of spinning yarn. My spinning wheels were made simply following the pattern in the magazine, so I have no idea whether they work well or not.
The two I made for friends were used for decorative purposes only. For all I know the Tristan spinner might have tried it, found it less efficient than her old one and kicked it over the cliff into the sea.
Incidentally, I read recently that the term “spinster” was once a revered title, nothing at all like the present-day word, which simply means an unmarried woman (and usually a mature unmarried woman at that).
Before the industrial revolution skilled women were able to produce yarn for weaving. Their work was in great demand and some became very wealthy from their spinning. If you had been lucky enough to marry a spinster it probably meant you would be very comfortably off for life.
Last Laugh
A lion and a snake were resting in the shade of a marula tree and chatting. “My life has changed since I got my contact lenses,” said the lion. “I hardly ever miss a kill now.” “That’s interesting,” said the snake, “maybe I should get some too”.
A week later they met again and the snake said: “Gosh, these contact lenses have certainly improved my love life.” “Your love life? How’s that?” asked the lion. “I discovered I’d been living with a garden hose for the last two years.”