Soooo...I decided that I had to sell my beloved Martin OM42 acoustic guitar. (It just sold today, to a really nice guy in Ontario who will play it well and often. I'm trying not to be brokenhearted about it.) I also looked into the stash situation (I know!), which was...I admit it...a Definitive Situation. And then I wondered how in hell I was going to sell all that yarn and spinning wool, given that I don't sleep much already, I'm not exactly adept at figuring out stuff like eBay and (clearly) blogging about it, and I hate saying goodbye.
Enter one of the most wonderful women you could ever hope to call friend, Norma of Now Norma Knits. Not only did Norma take on about three quarters of my existing stash (I kept a bit of it), but she labeled all of my photos, posted everything on eBay, handled the bidding, the questions from bidders, and the resulting shipping, blogged multiple times about it, and managed to raise ALL of the money I needed to pay off the big move. With Norma at the helm, the fiber arts community came through for me in a way I could never have anticipated, given that I've been gone from the blogging scene for years now. I still don't know how to thank her, except for to pay it forward whenever I can. Her response? "Seeing you smile at a sheep and wool festival is all the payback I need."
Well, Norma, honey, you're about to get your payback. (Bet you never thought you'd be happy to hear that phrase, eh, sweetie?) Norma has sustained a running-related injury that might just sideline her for the NH Sheep and Wool Festival, but that won't stop me. That's what a willing partner-in-wool with a camera is for, and Norma lives not too far from me, so I will be finding her some kind of little treat at the festival, to be delivered by hand, with a big ol' smile and an enormous hug.
Yes, you read that right: I am actually going to attend a sheep and wool festival for the first time in I don't know how many years, and no one's life is going to be ruined in the process. (But, you know, I'm not bitter.) I'm very excited to get the chance to see so many people that have been blog readers and friends over the years, and whose own blog posts I've been gradually returning to as of late.
In the meanwhile, someone's been busy thinking of me and my somewhat traumatic just-close-your-eyes-and-get-rid-of-it experience. And that someone (whose name is Rachel, but they didn't tell me which Rachel, though I suspect it's you, sweetpea) overheard me drooling over some gorgeous BFL/silk blend fiber in Shamrock from the Cupcake Fiber Company. (I know. Mixed metaphor. But you'll drool loudly too when you get a look at this stuff.)
A box arrived at Justin's house, and he brought it with him when we took Tigidou down to Rhode Island to splash about in the waves. (Well, I splashed about in the waves while Justin and Tig looked at me like I'd completely lost my everloving mind. April ocean swims are not for the faint of heart, dude.)
So, when I arrived in Rhode Island after a four-hour border wait and a really long drive, he told me to "go and take a look at that box over there on the couch, would you," refused to tell me exactly how he was involved with this venture, and wouldn't name the giver of the gift. ("I am not at liberty to say" appears to be a phrase I will hear often, followed by wicked good surprises. I'm okay with that.)
Well, hellooooo, gorgeousness. If you ever, ever, ever get a chance to have some of this stuff, jump at it. The softness is not to be believed, and honey, don't just leave it in the cute cupcake box, tempting though it may be, because it really is cute. Pull out a batt and snuggle it. Put your face right in it (still smells a bit sheepy, and it's wonderful). Stuff it in your shirt and marvel at how it not only does not itch, but might want to live there for, say, the next several hours. (Okay, that might just be me that does that.) Revel in it, because this stuff is totally revel-worthy. I can't wait to spin it.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, Rachel who is not to be identified by Justin because he promised, and the Cupcake Fiber Company, for sending me a wonderful little note with the fiber and for making such gorgeous fluff.
And while I'm linking to beautiful people and things they create, I'd like to thank Ms. Uli Ross for making the only thing that I've ever found to prevent me from losing my housekeys. She does chainmaille jewelry (gorgeous stuff) and keychains, and her Celtic Star keychain is my saving grace. I can lose keys in the space of less than a minute, especially if I put them where they are supposed to go, in my purse, also known as the Endless Pit of Receipts and Other Doomed Items (Oh, Hey, Wow, My Glasses!).
But with this keychain, because it's so damned fun to play with, tactile people like me get to know what it's like in the hand, and then it will NEVER get lost in that purse. I just stick my hand into that sea of receipts and (oh, hey, wow, my glasses!) feel around in there, et voilà, keychain, ergo, keys! It's awesome.
The bracelet is also one of her creations: little beads on loops, placed one by one. Beautiful, and really fun to wear...makes a great fidgeting foil if you're trying not to look bored in public. Here it is again, in the wild.(Okay, actually, it is stuck in border traffic, but it's reeeally pretty in the sun that will go down and I will STILL not be across yet...)
This community rocks, and I feel priveleged to be a part of it. The next post will be full of cute sheepy butt pictures, and I'm hoping to do a little show-and-tell of my first fleece-to-knit experience as well. Justin's been practising with a Forrester spindle I let him borrow, so if you see a very earnest-looking man trying to spin and walk at the same time, followed by a kid who keeps asking for food that sticks to things and a woman who is not much taller than the kid and can't be easily spotted anyway because she keeps getting sucked into the wheel booths, that'll be us. Please do say hello, and tell Justin he's doing great. He is, and would do better if he actually let go of the spindle, but...we all gots to start somewhere, no?
Indeed, we do.
