American placenames have their roots in the stories that created our country and the people who built it. The same is true of the old roads that twist through our mountains and across our plains. So it was that I found myself on Hatton Road, a narrow country road, west of Milford, PA that winds its way past old farmhouses and newly build modulars, to the home of Fred and Grace Hatton.
Back in 1859, Fred's ancestors settled on this rocky but fertile land. Though the old homestead is down the road -- a cabin that had grown over the generations into a house -- Fred and his sons built their own rambling, barn-like home, as their forebearers did. It's one of the aspects of the folks I'm meeting through my American Hands project that they often have many talents and tend to be self-sufficient and resourceful -- just like the American hands who originally built our country.
In the field below their house was a flock of Finland sheep. Inside was a large collection of spinning wheels.
Back in 1859, Fred's ancestors settled on this rocky but fertile land. Though the old homestead is down the road -- a cabin that had grown over the generations into a house -- Fred and his sons built their own rambling, barn-like home, as their forebearers did. It's one of the aspects of the folks I'm meeting through my American Hands project that they often have many talents and tend to be self-sufficient and resourceful -- just like the American hands who originally built our country.
In the field below their house was a flock of Finland sheep. Inside was a large collection of spinning wheels.
Spinning is a family passion for both Fred and Grace.
While Grace is the spinner, Fred repairs all kinds of old spinning wheels and related devices, crafting whatever parts are necessary. And he is very particular about maintaining a wheel's authenticity and regional character. With great disapproval, he showed me several pieces others had stuck onto wheels, in their attempts to repair them, with no regard for original design.
In his basement workshop and throughout their home are dozens of books about spinning wheels, documenting the many differences among styles.
While Grace is the spinner, Fred repairs all kinds of old spinning wheels and related devices, crafting whatever parts are necessary. And he is very particular about maintaining a wheel's authenticity and regional character. With great disapproval, he showed me several pieces others had stuck onto wheels, in their attempts to repair them, with no regard for original design.
In his basement workshop and throughout their home are dozens of books about spinning wheels, documenting the many differences among styles.
As Grace started spinning, she commented, "You know, it was sheep that probably invented spinning, not people. When they rubbed their coats on twigs, it probably twisted the fiber. Then, people found the twined fiber on bushes and realized they could use it."
To start the wheel, Grace turns the wheel, and steps on the treadle.
To start the wheel, Grace turns the wheel, and steps on the treadle.
The foot treadle is connected to the wheel by an arm (called a "footman"). So, as Grace's foot taps out a steady rhythm, the wheel keeps spinning. It's an almost hypnotic pace of gentle motions. I can imagine women over the ages entering into an almost meditative state as they spun.
Grace says wistfully, "You can't help wonder who was the last woman who touched a wheel."
Grace says wistfully, "You can't help wonder who was the last woman who touched a wheel."
The spinning wheel drives a cord that is attached to the flyer (the U-shape shown in the lower left corner of this picture).
Grace carefully feeds the raw wool to the bobbin inside the flyer. As the flyer spins, it twists the wool, turning it into a single-ply yard that is gathered up and wound around the bobbin inside the flyer.
While Grace spins, she talks, her voice a gentle, quiet cadence in rhythm with the treadle, wheel and flyer. "The spinning wheel was invented around the time of da Vinci," she says. "He drew a flyer." But, she explained, "The Egyptians used a drop spindle, on which they made finer linen than we can create today."
Later in the day, Grace demonstrated a drop spindle. It's essentially little more than a stick that spins downward, using gravity, while it twists the fiber.
Grace carefully feeds the raw wool to the bobbin inside the flyer. As the flyer spins, it twists the wool, turning it into a single-ply yard that is gathered up and wound around the bobbin inside the flyer.
While Grace spins, she talks, her voice a gentle, quiet cadence in rhythm with the treadle, wheel and flyer. "The spinning wheel was invented around the time of da Vinci," she says. "He drew a flyer." But, she explained, "The Egyptians used a drop spindle, on which they made finer linen than we can create today."
Later in the day, Grace demonstrated a drop spindle. It's essentially little more than a stick that spins downward, using gravity, while it twists the fiber.
Among the pieces in Fred's workshop that he has removed from old spinning wheels to repair or replace them is this battered flyer and bobbin.
And here's the replacement flyer and bobbin Fred crafted.
Much of Fred's work involves wood turning, for which he uses modern machinery. When I wondered if anyone still uses an old-fashioned treadle-type device to turn wood, Grace assured me that they do, indeed. Then, again, Fred and Grace are members of the Society of Creative Anachronism, and they would probably know lots of people who prefer to do things with their hands.
Hand wood turning would work like a spinning wheel, with a foot pedal running a belt that would turn the wood, so the craftsperson could carve the shapes into the rotating wood.
Much of Fred's work involves wood turning, for which he uses modern machinery. When I wondered if anyone still uses an old-fashioned treadle-type device to turn wood, Grace assured me that they do, indeed. Then, again, Fred and Grace are members of the Society of Creative Anachronism, and they would probably know lots of people who prefer to do things with their hands.
Hand wood turning would work like a spinning wheel, with a foot pedal running a belt that would turn the wood, so the craftsperson could carve the shapes into the rotating wood.
Spinning the wool into twine is only the beginning of the process. For wool to be really useful for knitting and weaving, it needs to be thicker and stronger than the single-ply strand that comes off the spinning wheel.
In the lower portion of this picture is a Lazy Kate, a device that holds two or more bobbins filled with wool. Grace attached the yarn from two bobbins in the Lazy Kate, to the bobbin inside the spinning wheel's flyer. Then, using the wheel's nature of twisting fibers, she combined the two strands into two-ply wool.
When Grace described the processes, she said, quite logically, "I am plying."
In the lower portion of this picture is a Lazy Kate, a device that holds two or more bobbins filled with wool. Grace attached the yarn from two bobbins in the Lazy Kate, to the bobbin inside the spinning wheel's flyer. Then, using the wheel's nature of twisting fibers, she combined the two strands into two-ply wool.
When Grace described the processes, she said, quite logically, "I am plying."
The next step is to wind the wool into skeins (or coils). Naturally, the device used is called a winder. Like the Lazy Kate and spinning wheel, it is a simple mechanism that an ingenuous someone invented some time ago, because there was a need for it. Or, perhaps, it was dreamed up simultaneously by many people who saw a need and found a solution.
While Grace turns the handle attached to the hub, the winder turns, gathering the strand of wool around its arms.
While Grace turns the handle attached to the hub, the winder turns, gathering the strand of wool around its arms.
Then, Grace ties the loops together....
American Hands exhibition prints are created on an HP Designjet Z3200 Photo fine art printer,
provided by Hewlett Packard.
American Hands is sponsored by:
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