So on our trip down the coast I was able to relax and refresh myself. The ocean has amazing healing properties. I was able to read a little bit, enjoy a cup or two or tea, soak in the Victorian ambiance of the B&B in which we stayed, and poked through gift shops and antique stores.
I was able to feed my inner geek at one antique store in particular. You see, I have been either knitting or crocheting for at least the past 10 years. I started recycling and dying yarn about two years ago. I have been itching to learn how to spin my own yarn. Yes, big yarn dork. Anyhow, I was going to start with a simple, and inexpensive, drop spindle. It looks like an old spinning top. One of those kids' toys. I figured it would be a cheaper and simpler way to get my toes wet and see if I even like spinning my own yarn.
And then we walked through the antique shop.
There was a spinning wheel. Beautiful, reasonably priced, antique. I fell in love. It is the dream to own one. Now I do. I caved like a souffle and bought it. It is missing a few parts that are pretty important, but I think I can jury-rig replacement parts for the time being. Some day I will want to get the whole thing overhauled and real replacement parts made, but it will be pricey and I want to learn to spin first. If I love it then the investment will be worth it.
So here she is. My antique spinning wheel. The final sign to herald in my utter dorkdom.