so joel goes to south america for seven weeks. before he leaves, i say, "get me some yarn if you can."
i did not say, nor did i imply, "rob a peruvian woman of her livelihood for the equivalent of nine american dollars." however, you know joel. and if you don't, let me tell you something about him: he's the kind of guy who would rob a peruvian woman of her livelihood for the equivalent of nine american dollars.
or not. regardless, joel tells me, with a little help from the locals, he was able to purchase this spindle, and the yarn that was being spun on it, from a tiny lady who apparently thought joel was an idiot and laughed at him. maybe people don't ask to buy other people's yarn and spindles right out of their hands in peru. maybe joel started taking the malaria pills too soon.
joel seemed a little surprised that i wished to just keep the yarn on the spindle the way it is. it's hauntingly artifact-y this way.