Spinning Despair

Our guild meeting was at Bartley Ranch so Allison said she'd come by with her horse, since she's stabled nearby. Amy and Shasta are having a special moment. Shasta is a sweet quarterhorse, the one you wished that you owned. We're meeting in a historic schoolhouse which back in the day would have had a hitching post for Shasta.
Our weather continues to be unseason-
ably nice. I showed Ian this photo and he said, oh - pretty. It shouldn't be, was my response. The forecasters promised us a storm, starting 4:00 today and they didn't deliver.
Many of the folks in my guild own multiple wheels. This is my only one, though I had a couple before it. I've loved spinning on this so much that I've never felt the need to buy something else. Allison, who teaches spinning, noticed a couple of years ago that the wire guides were connecting with the platform on the mother-of-all. She told me that I had a developing problem, but since it only was when I was drawing onto the top part of the bobbin that this happened, I let it slide.
I have logged in hundreds of hours on my wheel. After the second knee surgery following my mountain biking accident I realized that morning running was out of my life forever. I substituted spinning 30 minutes to an hour each morning. It's my zen time before my brain catches up with my body. Look at the wear on the treadles.

My wheel stopped spinning at the guild meeting on Saturday. Marilyn graciously loaned me an antique wheel to tide me over. It spins great but it's not the zen experience I have enjoyed. I starting shopping for replacement wheels and realized that is not even an option. I cannot buy a wheel I haven't tested. Allison told me to bring the wheel in and she'd see if she could determine what would make it work again.
So I dragged my wheel into Jimmy Beans yesterday because Allison was working at the moment. She assessed the situation and got me back to functionality though I think I'm going to have to purchase a replacement mother-of-all. The glued end with the orifice must be moving toward me so that the added washer to create distance and letting the shaft sit at the other end with just the tip in lets me get back to spinning. That probably doesn't make much sense. Laura told me that I needed to email Gordon Lendrum, which I did earlier this evening. I am lucky to have a go-to crew like Allison, Amy and Laura.
Meanwhile, out of sight is not out of mind. I'm still stitching and winding strips for my next rag rug. We've got company coming this weekend so I needed to clean out the dining room, i.e., sewing studio.
I've finished another yarn bomb that I am planning to install on Friday. It's easy to be so elaborate when it's a public but protected environment. The more I read about guerrilla knitting, the more I realize that vandalism and removal have to be expected. I haven't gotten my head around that yet. I emailed Artown, an event that takes place here in July and asked what would happen if we anonymously placed yarn bombs in the downtown park. She responded with this video, saying check it out which you can see here. I now belong to a guerrilla knitting crew and we're trying to decide if this is a nod.