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My daughter got a new toy in the mail yesterday. It’s a huge wooden contraption about the size of a fax machine with all sorts of knobs and levers.

She calls it a carder.

It’s used to prepare wool fleece for spinning.

Along with this carder, she received a mountain of brightly coloured fleeces that the vendor included with the order. After my daughter showed them off to me she said:

“Go on, pick out some colours.”

I chose hot pink and black, with a sprinkle of silver sparkles on the side. It’s a colour combination that I’ve always wanted to try but had yet to find. I asked her if she could spin enough yarn in this colour way so that I could knit some hand warmers.

“Yes,” she answered.

For half an hour, she smoothed, combed, scraped, and cranked the fleece until all of the colours were seamlessly combined.

When it was all over she handed me the finished product. A poofy square, about the size of a small loaf of bread.

“Is this a poonie?” I asked her. A poonie is the small clump of fleece that you spin into wool.

“No, it’s a batt, ” she responded.

I rolled my eyes. I should have known better. Poonies were much smaller than a batt. I was never going to get this spinner’s jargon right.

By the end of the evening, she held out another poofy pillow of wool to me, her second creation, courtesy of her new beloved carder. The tangerines, yellows and golden sparkles that she had incorporated into this particular batt was breathtaking.

“I’m calling this colour: Creamsicle,” she announced.

“Why?” I asked her.

“Because it reminds me of all the creamsicles that Oma gave me.

(Oma was her her Great Grandmother, my Grandmother.)

As I took another look at the tangerine fluff, I had a sweet moment.

Sweet, because of all the eye candy colours of wool before me…

Sweet because as I beheld that pillow of tangerine wooly bliss I could almost taste that creamsicle…

Sweet because I was blessed with such a special Grandmother.

Sweet because soon, we are going to be up to our cahoonies in poonies.