There's an old tale that says if you don't get your spinning done by Mother's Night (or Yule, depending on who is telling the story), Dame Hulda (or is it Frigga, it depends on who is telling the story) will tangle up your yarn. I tried to get all my spinning done by Mother's Night. That's the solstice evening.
I had some yarn that I hadn't plied sitting in a bowl. Wound into two neat little balls. They looked almost cute sitting in that bowl. As I was watching my eldest shovel a quarter inch of snow off of the side walk (this was before he caught the flu) out the living room window, I decided I was going to ply those two cute little balls of yarn into one cute little skein of yarn.
I had a devil of a time plying that. Corkscrews and pigtails in the yarn as I was plying it. Balls bouncing out of the bowl and rolling across the floor. It was a mess. I normally wouldn't have had this much difficulty. Still, I was there, the day after Mother's Night with a tangled skein. I suppose I should have listened to the old tales and finished that skein the day before.
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