Sunday 17 July 2016

More Saturday

More Saturday 17.07.16

My enthusiasm for felt making wanes with the rain now that I am back 'home' Persistent rain means I have a whole afternoon and evening ahead of me, but again I am anxious about making a mess. I want Heidi to offer me a price that I can afford so I can return here for August.

Felt making involves sheep dirt, soapy water, stray bits of fleece and in this case, plant remains. I find I have no heart for it. I wonder about tracking down the German girl, I think a rainy day with a companion would be better but do nothing about it, I try the TV for the first time since here but cannot get life. I suspect the battery is flat, as is the battery in the ticking, yet permanently 12.05, clock. I play jigsaws on line, I am in no rush to explore anything more in the rain. I feel tired from the wind that kept me awake last evening and i snooze on the couch.

I wake at 5.30 and suddenly know that I must felt. The table has piles of previously sorted white, brown and black fleece. Piles of flowers in yellows, reds and whites. I begin to tease the wool, it is hairy, too hairy I fear, sheep droppings and rancid lanolin drop on the table. I am excited to be working. I get wet wipes, the only thing I have for a base and lay thin strands of fleece upon it. I scatter my pink and red petals on to white fleece, the golden petals on to brown and the cotton grass i sandwich between layers of white. I prepare three thin sandwich layers of felt, place angelica between them to offer roughness and sprinkle soapy water over them. Or rather, hand washing liquid rather than soapy water for I have no soap and I wonder how this might affect the result. 

I decide to clear up, to discard the detritus, clear the rank piles of sheep dirt from the dining table in case Heidi comes to talk to me while I am working. Now clear, I lay my sandwich layers in plastic and need a rolling pin. I take the silk flowers from one of the vases, a stone like glass bottle, not quite smooth, and I roll. Suds come from the plastic and the angelica moves too much. I remove it and roll the layered wool and 'wet wipe' sandwiches. 

I check them after a while and luckily the wet wipe does not appear to be catching in, the felting process has begun. Water has seeped through the plastic cloth and I see wet markings on the table beneath. I will deal with it later. I fret my layers are too thin, that I have insufficient time to roll and roll and still, am afraid of the mess and of getting caught.

Too soon, I am done with my rolling, I should have started earlier but now I must pack, prepare for my journey tomorrow. Packing and cleaning. I wonder how to transport my 'not yet felt'. It will need a lot more working. I think I may need to stitch it into the wet wipes and then agitate it carefully yet roughly. I remove the plastic, carefully stack the layers together and then find some foil, lay them on it and carefully roll, like a Swiss roll and I tuck the ends in. I find a space in my pack for my roll.

I carefully move the tablecloth and dry the table underneath, crawl on the floor, wiping and picking up tiny scraps. I leave no sign that I have been working here, save for the damp patch that I seem unable to remove. I clean the fridge, empty the bin, clean the shower. I do everything I can to ensure that I leave as little work as possible. In the morning I will strip the bed and fold the bed linen, just as Marit has taught me the Faroese like to do.