I was ambitious earlier this summer and decided to look beyond my lovely, wonderful wool. I bought cotton. Soft, beautiful, wonderful cotton. Better for Texas weather, I thought.
Why, oh why did I do it to myself?
I understand now why, whenever they show a cotton mill, the air is full of nasty, nasty cotton bits. It gets everywhere. Stuck on my fingers, my clothes, the fabric from my chair, and in the air. Wool doesn't do that. Wool likes itself. It sticks to itself and doesn't fly around too much.
Since cotton doesn't come from an animal, it doesn't really have fiber length...there are just tiny little bits, less than 1/4 an inch long. Which makes it really really hard to draft and spin.
All throughout the yarn there were big fat slubs and thin strands that would break when they went through my wheel's orifice. I nearly gave up...I felt like I was spinning cotton balls, and couldn't believe they would stay together in the end.
But in the end, when I started to ply it...the cotton charmed me. It's so soft. And the uneven singles were actually turned into a pretty neat looking yarn.
In the end, I was pretty happy. However, I have decided that spinning cotton requires patience, determination, and a good amount of biting back the curses while praying. Or something along those lines. Maybe I'll try it again sometime...maybe.