Grandma's Swift Skein Winder

Imagine an old spinning wheel, proudly positioned in the warmest, most welcoming room of grandma's house. It's not just a mere object, but a keeper of stories and secrets, intertwined in the wool threads that have passed through its spindles for generations. This spinning wheel carries the flavor of time: the faded colors of the wood, worn and smoothed by the loving hands of those who used it.

Wrapped around its spindles are not just threads, but also memories: every time the wheel began to turn, it wasn't just wool being spun, but also stories, hopes, and dreams for the future. The grandmother's spinning wheel thus becomes a bridge between the past and present, a silent witness to unconditional love and sacrifice.

Thinking of this spinning wheel evokes the image of the grandmother, with her wisdom and sparkling eyes, sitting beside it, guiding the thread with a firm yet gentle hand. Her touch transformed simple fibers into creations filled with affection, unique pieces that still today wrap her loved ones in a warm and protective embrace.

That spinning wheel, with all its imperfections and signs of time, is much more than a means to spin wool. It's a symbol of continuity, an unbreakable bond between generations, a silent witness to family stories that continue to live, intertwined in the stitches of shawls, blankets, and sweaters, wrapped in the love of those who, with patience and dedication, gave them shape.

This is my memory of that old spinning wheel, just like the threads spun by it, it knows no end, it remains, an invisible but inextricable thread that binds us to those who are no longer here, through time and space.