No pictures today. I should have taken my camera out with me today to take pictures of our dear, stormy York River, but alas, I didn't.

This entry is also posted to my non-fibery journal, but it really does belong here more than there, so, without further ado:

I went in to work today, more to keep Nettie company for a bit than anything else. I did show her some wool she mentioned wanting to buy from me, but other than that, she and Mom just stood around and talked while I flipped through the latest issue of Spin-Off. I grabbed it today, even though I really shouldn't have, since my paycheck hasn't been posted yet and I have verrry limited funds, but I don't work again for another week, and Spin-Off disappears quickly.

Before we left, I dumped things in the car, then walked over to the beach and stood just at the sand, watching the water and the rain. I miss mountains so very much, and I'll jump at the chance to see them again, whenever we move, but I will miss stormy seas...

Anyway, I got home, made a cup of tea and curled up to read my magazine for a bit before I napped. I just got up, and I was coming up with tags for the fleece I've been carding up, so in the future, I'll know just how many ounces I have, where I got it, etc. I made a comment to Mom about how I can dig through my handspun yarn, pull one out, and know what breed of sheep it came from solely on color/feel/luster/bounce/density/etc. She told me that just means I'm good at my craft.

My craft. What a concept. It hasn't been until recently that I realized that maybe, just maybe, I really am good at this. Of course, I make no claims at being an expert. That would just be silly. I think the fun will go out of it if I ever learn all there is to learn about spinning. Still, I've started noticing the little things I do during the day that are fiber related, and I've noticed they aren't so little. The ideas swimming around in my head, the plans for things, ways to improve what I'm doing... I looked down at the basket of fleece to be flicked yesterday, as I sat at my computer and talked to my best friend, and the sheer practicality and immensity of the fact that there I was, taking a greasy pile of wool, washing it, processing it by hand and turning it into yarn to keep myself or a loved one warm hit me like a lovely ton of bricks. And now, with this new job, I feel like I've stepped back in time. A customer commented that I was an apprentice, and I think he really is right. After all, I run things for Nettie, do menial work, and learn little things along the way. When she gets her 18th century craft fair out of the way, she'll be coming into the shop regularly while I'm there to teach me how to weave. This is what I've always dreamed of. An honest-to-god apprenticeship, in what I love.

Anyway, I'm off to listen to the rain and work on, well, you all know by now.