A morning at the wool market
Once a year a small market sets up in the old hall near the river. Local farmers sell fleece and spinners sell what they made over the summer.
I came home with far too much undyed yarn and a small bag of fleece I do not yet know how to spin. The stallholder said to start with a drop spindle and not to be discouraged by the first hundred metres.
Next year I want to bring a proper bag and a list. Both are things I said last year as well.