My parents collect things. Chairs, clocks, books, musical instruments, and antiques. My dad could spend weekends wandering the aisles on antique stores if he wanted to. Over the years different odds and ends have wound up in our home. Tables that traveled in covered wagons. Clocks.
My mom likes wool. She likes spinning wool and knitting wool and weaving wool and embroidering with thread. In our home alone we have 3 spinning wheels, 2 looms, and countless numbers of knitting needles and knitting supplies. The back room of our house looks like a store front.
My parents have been smart enough to combine their obsessions. My dad goes on antique binges and buys antique spinning wheels or looms. In the dining room of our home sits a giant spinning wheel. In the early years of my parents’ marriage and my life my dad bought it for my mom. The wheel is about 4 feet across and the apparatus that holds it is even longer. It always takes up considerable space. It’s an antique. Though still intact it is no longer a functional spinning wheel anymore. In its heyday women would spin standing up for hours at a time. From experience spinning sitting down can be tiring after half an hour, so I can only imagine that spinning stand up was an excruciatingly boring process.
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