How often do you do maintenance on your craft/hobby/fibre/work-related objects? That is, how often do you oil your wheel, change the needle on your sewing machine, clean your carding brushes? I bet this isn’t a type of question that gets asked much outside woolly circles (although “how often do you wash your hairbrush” really should be a thing in my opinion!)
A while ago, my Lendrum spinning wheel started squeaking a bit. Every rotation, I’d get a “squee, squee, squee” sound that annoyed me to no end. It finally dawned on me that it may be time to show it some love and add a few drops of machine oil onto its metal bits. I pretended I knew what I was doing, hummed and harrumphed a few times (like how I imagined a seasoned mechanic would when looking at an old car) and what do you know? The squeak was gone. Hoorah!
Then it dawned on me that other parts of the wheel might also be in need of some TLC. I bought a WooLee Winder a number of years ago and although that, too, had been subjected to some oiling in the past, I had never once disassembled the thing to do a deep cleaning. To put things in better context, I’ve been spinning raw alpaca… If you know your camelids, you’ll know those adorable guys can get very dusty! My winder had started to stutter and stop in one specific place lately, and I could see dirt accumulating on the outside of the shuttle groove, so I really needed to do something about it.
Being the independent woman that I am, I forged a plan: watch a couple of YouTube videos, dismantle the thing, clean it thoroughly, drink a well-deserved cup of tea afterwards and enjoy my feminist success.
I did Step One very successfully, then immediately changed tact: I delegated the task to Husband (meaning: I chickened out of playing with an expensive piece of equipment and asked him to do it for me, so I could blame him in case it all went awry).
Trust me, the photo doesn’t begin to show how terribly dusty the whole thing was. Once it all came apart, I was aghast at how a piece of shiny metal could actually look dull and brownish. See the amount of fibre I removed from the inside!
Now the plot twist: once the WooLee Winder was reassembled, I was happily back at my wheel and ready to gunk it up with more alpaca; I was spinning away, when the thing kept stopping exactly in the same spot as before it was cleaned. Why, ye gods, why?!
The answer? I only thought I’d cleaned it correctly. Turns out, the amount of fluff you see in the pic was just the tip of the iceberg. Husband, I require your services and tools once again! This time we spent time really looking at every nook and cranny, and managed to remove some more debris. It wasn’t actually much more, but it was enough to prevent the mechanism from moving as it should.
It was finally working like a charm. I felt I went from driving a beaten-up Alfa Romeo to a Ferrari – that thing was faster than I remember and I had to adjust my wheel’s settings because as it turns out, I’d been making my Lendrum work harder than it needed to compensate for my inadequate maintenance efforts.
Now, to illustrate how much dust I’d been adding to the WooLee Winder, I present one of my alpaca skein baths. This was the second wash.
Is it any wonder my equipment needed some TLC? You’ll be surprised to know I am now planning on cleaning the winder again after I am done spinning this fleece…
Finally, a picture of two skeins of hand spun alpaca side by side. The left one is before washing and the right one is after; notice how the fibre has bloomed. I’m never short of amazed at how much fibres transform after a warm soak.
Next on my cleaning list is coming up with a way to clean my (currently very dusty) wool carders without water. Any ideas? How do you maintain yours?
I hope this post has inspired you to look at your precious tools and offering them some love. They help us be better at our crafts, after all. We need to keep them in top condition! Don’t be like me…