Watching someone spinning with a drop spindle is rather mesmerizing.  

If, at some point, the wish to try it occurs –  do so.

It is simple but it is not easy; at least that was my experience.  I took a workshop and learned the technique on a potato and a chopstick and came away with my very first skein (tiny) of hand spun.

It did not follow "like a duck to water",  I mean my love and respect and use of the drop spindle.

It was a slow process involving the acquisition of a drop spindle here and a drop spindle there and almost, but not quite, drop spindles, drop spindles everywhere  (church sales,  craft fairs,  flea markets.)  So the vibration was definitely in place and I was attracting them.

I tried them as they appeared.  It might have been the right one for me, or maybe the collection of experiences, that,  one day,  I suddenly 'got it'.  Could do it.  It felt good.  It felt right.  It felt like 'remembering' and being joyful at the rediscovery of something ancient and known.

There is not the wish – or the need – to spin a fibre of a certain consistency.  I spin.  Thick and thin. Tight.  Loose. 

Raw un-carded fleece;  polyester batting;  thrums (hmmm – just thought of this…..);  paper.  

It is so satisfying.  Meditative.  Magical to watch that handful of fluff turn into something that can be woven or knit or crocheted or coiled or ….. admired.