with hubby in tow, credit cards akimbo. My overall feeling? Meh. Underwhelming. I know, I know. Maybe it was the last dregs of PMS, or the feeling of being watched, or that it was the Sunday and not the Saturday so there was less choice, or the fact that we didn’t get there until one pm, or that I couldn’t pay attention to the festival map, or I don’t know what all else, but I didn’t get all squee’d out like I did last year, breathless and dizzy. I also didn’t come home with a fraction of the loot, but I did purchase some nice things. I didn’t take enough pictures, there’s my mood again, but I did capture a bit. We arrived in time to hear half of Stephanie Pearl-McPhee’s talk, I think all of which she covers in her books and at the last two talks I’ve heard, but she is The Yarn Harlot 
and I was thrilled to breathe the same air. She admired the basketweave scarf that I had on (I made it for my dad for last winter’s holiday season but didn’t finish it in time so it will be gifted this year.) and when someone asked during the questions part about her shirt, she deftly spotted me standing in back, wearing its twin and pointed me out. Everyone turned to look! (I AGAIN forgot the stitch markers. Didn’t even think about them until I was about to get Casts Off signed. Idiot girl.) and get bookbookbookbook signed (I’ve got them all done now), but missed completely the Ravelry/blogger meetup. I saw some Blogger Bingo Squares, but no one on my card.
signed (I’ve got them all done now), but missed completely the Ravelry/blogger meetup. I saw some Blogger Bingo Squares, but no one on my card.
What we did see were some beautiful horses, Belgian Brabants, tended to by this guy in black Spandex. Ew. The horses are a bit smaller than Clydesdales, but just as furry. They remind me of giant Maine Coon cats that can pull a sleigh. Yum!
We stopped by Journey Wheel and talked with Jonathan Bosworth awhile about the charkha wheel. It felt very, very strange to use, I’m not so sure that I liked it. I know that it’s what Gandhi spun with, but it felt counterintuitive. I think maybe it was that my right hand had to really concentrate on what it was doing, and I’m a lefty. G intimated that maybe I’d like one for Christmas. I really don’t know. Jonathan said that it usually takes about four years for someone to go from trying a charkha to buying one.
To the loot: from Shelridge Farm, the Cropped Aran kit in Green Apple (which they’re sending me next week, no more left), of which I neglected to take a photo for reference (again, idiot girl was holding the camera), from Hilcreek Fiber Studio I scored a pair of Ashford Mini Hand Cards, an oak 2-yd niddy-noddy, and an extra bobbin for my Ashford Joy, from Green Mountain Spinnery I procured two skeins each of Partridgeberry and Pink Pink Mountain Mohair (70% wool, 30% yearling mohair) with which I plan to make a scarf for myself to match the Lynn Pullman blanket coat my mother bought me for ChristmaChanuKwanzaaKah last year, and from The Good Shepherd I bought a skein each of Raspberry Dreams and Peach Dreams Shepherd’s Rainbow worsted weight, lovely, vareigated, 75% wool, 25% mohair blends. That’s it. No roving, no qiviut. A very sparse hoard, and I’m cranky about the whole damn thing.
