Every summer, cyclists race through the mountains and valleys of France. Meanwhile, another spinning takes place around the world. It is the joyful spin of wool turning into yarn!
This is the heart of Tour de Fleece, an international spin-along for fibre lovers. But where did it start?
Tour de Fleece was started in 2006 by spinner and blogger Katrina McHugh. She had a brilliant idea while watching the famous Tour de France cycling race. While the cyclists spin their wheels on the road, why don’t we spin our wheels at home? Or spin our spindles?
She posted her idea on her blog. She invited other spinners to join her for a three-week spinning challenge. This challenge runs alongside the Tour de France. It was an instant success.
Over the years, the event has grown into a beloved tradition among spinners worldwide. Thousands now take part each year — some through teams on Ravelry, others through Instagram and personal blogs.
The spirit of Tour de Fleece is simple: ✨ Set your own spinning goals. ✨ Challenge yourself in some way (new fibre, new technique, spin every day, finish a project). ✨ Share your progress with the community. ✨ Celebrate your love of handspun yarn!
What am I planning?
There are no hard rules — it’s about participation, learning, and joy.
Whether you spin on a wheel, drop spindle, or electric spinner, Tour de Fleece is a time to connect. It brings together spinners around the world. It allows us to cheer each other on and marvel at what we can create with simple fibre and skill.
As the cyclists conquer their miles, we spinners conquer our fibre stash — one draft at a time! 🚴♀️🧶
Are you joining Tour de Fleece this year? I’d love to spin along with you! 👉 Share your spinning plans or goals in the comments — let’s cheer each other on!
If you’d like to follow my spinning journey, be sure to do the next: ✅ Subscribe to my YouTube channel. ✅ Follow me on Instagram ✅ Sign up for my email list for extra fibre goodness!
✨ Let’s make beautiful yarn together this Tour de Fleece! 🚴♀️🧶
The rising cost of yarn and supplies can take the fun out of your favorite craft. It doesn’t matter if you’re new to knitting or a seasoned fiber artist. But don’t worry — creativity thrives under constraint. Did you know that you can knit beautiful items without breaking the bank? These Knitting on a Budget Toolkit ideas are here to help you make the most of what you have. It will stretch your dollars. You’ll still knit projects you’ll love.
🧰 1. Yarn Price Tracker
One of the best ways to stay within your fiber budget is to track yarn prices. Keep a simple log of:
Yarn brand and fiber content
Cost per skein or per 100g
Where you purchased it (or if it was a gift)
Project used for
By comparing prices over time, you’ll spot the best deals — and avoid impulse buys that aren’t a good value.
🧺 2. Stash-Busting Project Checklist
You probably have yarn in your stash you’ve forgotten about! Use it up with these go-to stash-busters:
✅ Dishcloths and scrubbies ✅ Striped scarves or hats ✅ Granny square blankets ✅ Color-block shawls ✅ Mismatched socks
Make it a challenge: Try not to buy any yarn for a month. See what you can finish with just your stash. Join me in June for a knit or crochet from our stash challenge.
🌐 3. Free & Fabulous Pattern Sources
You don’t have to pay for patterns to make stunning pieces. Here are my favorite free pattern resources:
Look at thrift stores or your own closet for 100% wool or cotton sweaters that you can unravel. Here’s how:
Choose sweaters with knit seams, not serged.
Wash gently in cold water and dry flat.
Carefully unravel, wind into skeins, and soak to relax the yarn.
This method can yield luxury yarn for pennies.
🛠️ 5. Tools That Do Double Duty
You don’t need a drawer full of gadgets to knit well. Some budget-friendly substitutions:
Use a paperclip as a stitch marker
Recycle cardboard into yarn bobbins
Use a measuring tape app if you’ve lost your real one
Keep a notebook for all your pattern notes — cheaper than printing pages Here’s one I’m using:
If you invest in anything, go for interchangeable needles — one set can do it all.
💬 Let’s Chat!
How do you save money on knitting? Share your favorite tip or stash-busting success story in the comments below. Don’t forget to pin this post for later!
🧶 Ready to Start Knitting Smarter?
Don’t let a tight budget hold back your creativity!
You can start easily with a travelers notebook like this one. Just set it up the way you like and go.
Introducing Myself: A Journey in Wool By [Doll Creelman]
Welcome to my corner of the internet. I wanted to introduce myself. Let me share a little bit about the passions that shape my life and work. If you’re here, you probably love fiber arts. You enjoy handmade things. Or, you’re just curious about the person behind the yarn. Either way—I’m glad you’re here.
The Roots of My Passion
My love for fiber arts didn’t start in a craft store or a YouTube tutorial—it started in a sheep pen.
As a child and even into my teenage years, I remember watching the sheep on my great-uncle Silas’s farm. There was something deeply moving about the way the sheep responded to his voice. He would call, and they would come. It was a simple yet sacred ritual that stirred something pastoral in me. That’s when I knew I wanted to dive deeper. I was intrigued not just with the sheep. I was also captivated by the wool they gave and the stories it would tell.
Back then, I knew how to knit a little and crochet some, but I longed for more. I wanted to learn to spin.
A Fiber Journey Begins
At first, wool felt out of reach. Buying 100% wool yarn was expensive, and spinning wheels were even more so. I had never heard of a drop spindle until one day I stumbled across it online. That discovery changed everything. I realized I start spinning on a budget. eBay, YouTube tutorials, and fiber forums became my teachers.
We found a local farm having a shearing day. I jumped at the chance to help. I paid for a sheep’s injections that year in exchange for the fleece. I took it home—dirty, greasy, and full of potential. Washing, drying, carding—it was all a massive learning curve, but slowly I started to understand the rhythm of the wool.
I spun enough for a pair of socks. I was so proud. Then I found a used plastic spinning wheel from Wisconsin—affordable and practical. It arrived in a box, and before long, I was spinning with both hands and heart.
From Wool to Wardrobe
The learning curve was real—drive bands breaking, fiber filled with neps, uneven bits and short pieces. But those frustrations became milestones. Each little hiccup taught me something new.
Now, I have a stash (as most crafters do). More fiber than projects. More yarn than ideas. And yet, choosing what to spin, how to dye, and what to knit still brings me joy. Some projects are for me. Some are gifts. Some are experiments in texture and color. That’s part of the magic.
The most exciting project? Probably that first pair of socks from my handspun yarn. But honestly, each finished project—whether from hand-dyed yarn or commercial wool—feels like a little victory.
Why It Matters
I’m passionate about fiber arts because I feel like I’m part of the process. From fleece to yarn to garment, I get to shape something with my hands that’s both beautiful and practical. It reminds me of ministry, too—how something raw can be transformed with care and intention.
Fiber art teaches me patience, persistence, and presence. And it connects me to something older than myself—an ancient rhythm of craft, care, and community.
Thanks for taking the time to get to know me a little better. Whether you’re here to learn or be inspired, I’m happy we met. I’m also delighted to share in the joy of handmade living with you.
Thanks for taking the time to get to know me a little better. Whether you’re here to learn or be inspired, I’m glad we’ve crossed paths. You also be here to simply share in the joy of handmade living.
I’d love to hear your story too. Do you spin, knit, crochet, or sew? Have you ever worked with raw wool or dreamed of trying? Drop a comment below or send me a message—I truly enjoy connecting with fellow makers.
If you’d like to follow along on my fiber journey, you can get tutorials and project updates. It also includes reflections on faith and creativity. Subscribe to the blog or follow me on Instagram @Dollcan.
Let’s keep creating, learning, and finding joy in the process—together.
There’s a sacred quiet that settles in when I sit down to spin or knit. The world slows. The chatter softens. And in that stillness, something deeper begins to stir: grace.
Grace shows up in the ordinary It’s in the way the yarn stretches just far enough to finish the row. Or when the spindle spins true, even after a long day. It’s the sigh of relief when the colors blend just right. It’s also when your hands remember a rhythm your mind had forgotten. Nothing flashy. Just the quiet kindness of things working together.
Crafting is a way of praying. You use your hands for this prayer. Colossians 3:23 (NIV): “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.”
I often say that knitting is my way of keeping a quiet conversation going with God. Each stitch holds a moment, a breath, a hope. Spinning wool feels the same. The fibers remind me that slow is good. Twists and turns are part of the story. There is calm in that letting go.
When life feels messy, crafting provides it with form and structure. There’s something healing about watching chaos turn into order. A tangled skein turns into a neat ball. Scraps become a blanket. Roving transforms into yarn. Crafting reminds me that transformation takes time and that even messiness has its purpose.
You don’t have to make something perfect. Just make Grace doesn’t demand perfection. It welcomes presence. Whether you’re pulling stitches back or trying a new pattern, grace sits beside you and says, “It’s okay. Keep going.” And calm follows when we stop measuring success by speed or flawlessness.
So light a candle. Make a cup of tea or your favourite beverage. Pick up your needles, your spindle, your cloth. Let your craft become your quiet sanctuary—a place where grace can find you.
This Lent, I didn’t give something up. I picked something up—my needles and yarn. (scroll down for video)
Every evening, I sat down with ten simple stitches and knit my way toward Easter. This year, I chose to create a Lenten blanket. It was a quiet project with no pressure. I worked on just small, modular squares of color and calm. What I didn’t expect was how this simple act would become my prayer.
Knitting as Devotion
The blanket wasn’t intricate. Each square was small—ten stitches across and ten back again. But that simplicity was the beauty of it. It allowed space. Space to listen, space to breathe, space to pray.
Each time I picked up my needles, it felt like I was entering into something sacred. My body slowed. My heart quieted. The rhythm of stitch after stitch became the rhythm of prayer—not always with words, but always with intention.
Prayer in Colour and Silence
Some evenings, I prayed for loved ones as I knit. Other times, I simply breathed deeply and let the yarn run through my fingers. The colours I chose came from bits of my handspun—nothing planned, only that each was different from the last. I wasn’t choosing a palette—I was choosing presence. Whatever felt right in the moment became part of the story.
There was no chart and no big goal. There was only the promise to knit one colour each day through the forty days of Lent. That small act became my grounding.
Grace in Every Stitch
It’s funny how something so ordinary can become sacred when you give it space.
There were moments of grace along the way. A square finished just before bed provided comfort. A color unexpectedly brought peace. One night, knitting was the only thing that kept the anxious thoughts at bay. I didn’t need to do anything heroic this Lent. I just needed to show up. Yarn in hand. Heart open.
From Good Friday to Resurrection Joy
As Holy Week approached, the blanket grew heavier in my lap. Each rectangle held the quiet prayers and honest questions I’d whispered throughout the season. And on Easter Sunday, when the final stitch was made, it felt like more than a finished project. It felt like resurrection.
Not because the blanket was perfect—it wasn’t. But because I was different. I had made space for stillness, for prayer, for grace.
An Invitation
If you’re longing for a gentler spiritual practice, I invite you to pick up something small and handmade. A needle, a spindle, a scrap of yarn. Let your hands lead the way. Don’t overthink it. Just start.
You find, like I did, that God meets you in the rhythm of your craft—one stitch at a time.
Today, I’m bringing you along on a little journey that’s been a long time coming. You see, beside my favorite chair — where I do most of my knitting, spindle spinning, reading, and general life-living — there’s a humble little basket. And that basket has been… let’s just say, “collecting life” for quite some time. (scroll down for the full video)
*how I’d love my space to look
So I sat down (iced coffee in hand) and decided it was time to dig in. Literally. If you’ve ever had a crafting corner or a cozy nook that gradually grows into a black hole of projects, odds and ends, and mystery items — you’ll understand. Today’s mission: declutter the basket.
Treasures, Tools & Thrift Box Tales
The first thing I pulled out was a lovely little bag I picked up at a church sale. Inside? All my short needles — the perfect sizes for socks and mittens. I’ve decided that anything belonging in that bag is going right back in, including a couple of needle sets. (Side note: nitpick shorties — not my thing!)
Then out came a purple pouch filled with crochet hooks, loom hooks, and some needles that honestly baffle me. There’s even a handy little guidebook, which I’ve left open to the first page… just in case.
A skein of yarn dyed with acorns was next. It already has a home, so off it goes. One lonely wooden needle that snags yarn? Off to the thrift box. (Goodbye and thank you.)
I even found a book I’m reading — How to Be a Craftivist — still in the basket. It’s going back in, along with some fiber that’s destined for spinning. Little tufts of leftover fiber went into my bits-and-pieces jar. Those tiny leftovers are great for my modular knitting projects, and they always make me smile.
Nick made me a beautiful homemade niddy noddy, and that’s a keeper. Into the basket it goes. I found pieces of another one too, so those are staying as well. Oh! And a sweet little note from a fiber gift — that’s being tucked in with its corresponding wool.
Yarn, Cords, and Questions
Bits and bobs of sock yarn turned up — those went into their designated bags (yes, I have a few). A random blue chunky yarn? Not my vibe anymore. Thrift store pile. A cracked old Zing needle? Tossed. And I found an ornament I thought might be a spindle in disguise… we’ll see.
Circular needles, cords for electronic gadgets of mysterious origin, a sock gauge ruler, and a pile of “maybe someday” things… all sorted, tested, and either re-homed or released.
I even rediscovered a one-row scarfknit in hand-dyed Lincoln wool. That’s officially a project again — spring seems like the perfect time to pick it back up.
The Deep End
As I neared the bottom of the basket, the real forgotten bits started appearing — tiny scraps of yarn, a lone slipper (I don’t enjoy making them — thank goodness for friends who do!), a defunct mini music player accessory, and a fabric basket that was literally falling apart. Into the garbage it all went.
And then I found it — an old pillowcase. I’ve had it for years. It never quite felt right for sleeping, but it’s perfect for fiber storage. So I tucked it inside my newly cleared basket, turned it into a soft liner, and started filling it back up: needles, niddy noddies, books, current projects, and a few well-loved tools.
The Reward
By the end, my basket was organized, intentional, and calm. I can see what I have, access what I need, and enjoy this cozy corner again. It’s amazing how something as simple as decluttering a basket can clear your mind and make space for inspiration to flow.
It’s funny — this basket has been beside me since we moved here in 2021, and yet I hadn’t reached the bottom until now. Sometimes it takes a moment (or three years!) to make space, but once you do… oh, what a difference it makes.
Life Lately
As I sipped the last of my (unsweetened!) iced coffee, I started mixing up a homemade electrolyte drink — pineapple juice, coconut water, a pinch of salt, and a bit of cream of tartar. Hydration, here I come.
I’m also realizing my clothes are all hanging off me now, so a wardrobe declutter may be next on the list. When nothing fits quite right, it’s hard to feel grounded — even in your own home.
And yes, for those who are kindly concerned — I am looking into dental work, probably this summer when I can properly heal. It’s a big thing for me, and your prayers and support mean the world.
Looking Ahead
Lent may officially end on Palm Sunday, but I’ll be continuing my Lenten knitting project through Good Friday. I’ll be writing a blog post on that project (and the reflections that came with it) soon after Easter.
In the meantime, I’ll be:
Carding wool
Spindle spinning
Plying yarn
Knitting socks, mittens, and a Lenten blanket
I like having a few projects on the go — the variation keeps me grounded and engaged.
Thank you for keeping me company during this decluttering journey. If you’re staring at your own version of “the basket,” maybe this is your sign to dig in, sort it out, and breathe a little easier.
With love, yarn, and the promise of a tidy corner,
This is not a transcript but some additional thoughts:
In this video I share a bit of a tutorial as I knit the 10 row blanket – adding in a new colour/section.
What does this project mean to me? While I knit, I meditate. I meditate on the day, the weekly scripture. I pray for my family, friends, and community.
With so much chaos in our world today a few moments of relaxation, stillness, and prayer is just what the Doctor would order – if I had a GP that is.
Watch the recording of Facebook live:
I think I chose a especially a modular one, because it’s only 10 stitches and it’s something I can work on every day.
While working on this blanket, I’m not finding specific emotions connected with it, possibly joy. It’s very calming to work on it. I don’t have stress or anxiety about needing to get it done or moving forward with it. It’s just coming together.
The colors I use are coming from bits and pieces that I have had spindle spun over the last few months that are in jars. And when I choose a color, the only thing I’m looking at is that it’s not the same as what is the row before. So it needs to be contrasting or complementary, but not the same. But I’m not creating a specific color pattern as I go.
Working on a modular design means I don’t have to worry about getting through, like, 200 stitches in a day or in an hour or whatever. Ten ten stitches and then 10 stitches back, so 20 stitches. It it isn’t very much. And I try to work on whatever little ball of yarn I have. I try to finish that color when I sit. But it’s not time it doesn’t hold me up whether or not I have enough time to do it. It’s the time I have intentionally decided to pick it up.
In the last week of working on this blanket, I realized that there is a message to be found here about diversity, about differences, and how things can all mesh together, that we’re all interwoven. So I believe there’s a sermon in there.
So do my colors reflect my personal journey? I don’t believe so. I’m drawn to purple, blues, pinks, but the bulk of the blanket are more neutral earth tones. So I’m not sure color plays into the emotion for me.
So the colors I choose might reflect my day. Or if I’m tired of working on neutral tones, maybe I want a splash of color in there to brighten things up. Or maybe the day’s dark because it’s raining and cloudy and foggy. And so I need something in purples or pinks, gold or yellow to lift my spirit.
I think the modular design connects with my personal journey in that small changes are helpful, that although it’s been a long road in life to get to where I am, there have been bits and pieces of my life that have come together in beautiful ways and helped me to move forward in much the same way as this blanket does, in much the same way as my faith does.
May you continue to find blessings as you walk through Lent to the celebration of Resurrection Day!
Hi friends! Welcome to this tutorial where I share my personal method of plying yarn from a spindle. While there are many techniques out there, this is the one that works best for me, and I hope it helps you too. (this is not a word for word transcript)
Getting Started
Before we begin, here’s what you’ll need:
Your favorite spindle (or one of them, if you’re like me and have several!)
A small amount of spun singles
Your hands—no fancy tools required!
This method works best with a fiber that has some grip to it. Today, I’m using a beautiful fiber from Germany that’s naturally grabby, making for a warm and fuzzy finished yarn.
Step-by-Step Plying Process
1. Preparing the Singles
Remove the spun singles from your spindle.
Wrap the singles around your hand by first looping it around a finger and then wrapping it around your open hand.
Once fully wound, slide the loops down onto your wrist, creating a bracelet of yarn.
2. Setting Up for Plying
Find the two ends: the one from the inside of the bracelet and the outermost strand.
Make a slipknot with these two ends and attach them to your spindle.
Start spinning in the opposite direction from how you originally spun the singles.
3. Plying the Yarn
Hold the two strands together and let the twist distribute evenly as you spin.
If needed, gently guide the twist so that the yarn plies consistently.
Wind the newly plied yarn onto your spindle and repeat until all singles have been plied.
Finishing the Yarn
1. Making a Skein
Once all the yarn is plied, remove it from the spindle.
If you don’t have a niddy noddy, use the old-fashioned elbow method: wrap the yarn around your forearm to measure out a small skein.
2. Setting the Twist
If your yarn has extra twist, give it a quick flick or a gentle shake to distribute it evenly.
Soak the yarn in lukewarm water for about 20 minutes to set the twist.
Squeeze out excess water and hang it to dry.
Tips & Encouragement
If you’re new to spinning, don’t stress about perfection! It’s all about practice and enjoying the process.
Your yarn’s characteristics (twist, thickness, and texture) will determine its best use. Sometimes, the fiber itself will tell you what it wants to be.
Spinning can be addictive, and it’s easy to fall down the fiber arts rabbit hole! Enjoy the journey and explore different tools and techniques at your own pace.
Join the Spinning Community!
Are you taking part in a spinning challenge? I’m currently spindling for 100 days, leading up to the Tour de Fleece! Whether you’re just beginning or have been spinning for years, I’d love to hear from you.
Leave a comment below: Are you new to spindle plying? What projects are you working on? Need any extra help? Let me know!
If you found this tutorial helpful, consider subscribing to my channel or blog for more fiber arts content. Let’s grow together—my goal is to reach 200 subscribers, and I’d love for you to be part of that journey!
Happy spinning, and may your yarn bring joy to your hands and heart!
Until next time,
Doll from Doll Can Create
(Like, share, and subscribe to help support the channeland blog!)
Finding Calm: How Spinning & Knitting Help My Anxiety
When life feels overwhelming, I reach for my fiber. The rhythm, the movement, the texture—these are the things that bring me back to myself. Spinning and knitting have become more than just hobbies for me; they are lifelines, gentle anchors that steady me when my thoughts start to spiral.
I can always tell when my anxiety is creeping in. It starts with staying up too late, doom-scrolling through news headlines, or lying in bed as my mind races through worries—especially about my family. My heart beats faster, and suddenly, the world feels a little too big, a little too out of control. I need something steady to hold onto.
That’s when I sit down at my spinning wheel. I place my foot on the treadle, letting the motion slow my thoughts. My hands draft the fibre, watching as it twists into yarn, transforming from something loose and chaotic into something whole. Also picking up my spindle and a small amount of floof works well. It’s a small act of control in a world that often feels uncontrollable. The wheel hums, the fibre moves through my fingers, and with each turn, I feel a little more grounded.
Knitting offers me the same comfort. The repetitive motion of each stitch feels like breathing—it moves in, it moves out. I don’t have to think too hard; I just follow the rhythm, letting my hands lead the way. Each row is a prayer, each stitch a step toward calm. There’s something about soft wool, warm colors, and familiar patterns that soothes me when words fail.
Over time, I’ve learned that my anxiety doesn’t just disappear, but I can meet it with tools—tools that bring me back to the present, that remind me I’m okay. A spindle, a pair of needles, a skein of wool. Simple things, but powerful in their quiet way.
Anxiety still comes, but now I know I’m not powerless against it. I have my fiber. I have my stitches. I have my breath and I have my faith.
What helps you find calm when life feels overwhelming? Maybe it’s fibre, or maybe it’s something else. But I think we all need a thread to hold onto.
