If the hours that make us happy make us wise, then the time I spend with yarn—spinning it, knitting it, crocheting it, sometimes weaving or dyeing—is responsible for so much of my wisdom.

I was already an adult when I found knitting, alone in the craft aisle at Walmart. About five years later, I found “my people” among a spinning group, which is really a bunch of yarners of all kinds, that meets at a nearby Catholic retreat center. It didn’t take them long to make a spinner of me.

It’s in this woolly society that I feel like I have grown into myself, and at the same time, I feel like a kid again.

This blog is a journal of growing up among the yarn—my raisin’ in the spun.


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