Rainy Yarn Days

Over the Fourth of July weekend, I visited my fambly in West Virginia.

One of the things I, personally, looked forward to do over the holiday was visit the Mountain State Art & Craft Fair. And I brought my mom and sister along. Did they particularly want to come? Who cares! It's amazingly easy how fast "me" turns into "we".

One of the things I, personally, did not want to do was spend my vacation trudging through the mud and rain. But evidently I do not control the weather.

Evidence of trudging.

There was tons to see and buy and eat (and eat and eat) but surprisingly little in the fiber fields. Or perhaps I've just been to too many fiber festivals that leave me with skewed expectations. 

There was one booth that I made a bee-line towards, perhaps knocking one or two little old ladies out of the way.



You'll notice there is no picture of me fondling yarn or a final yarn line-up after purchase. "Why?" one might ask. "Were you ill?" Well no, I wasn't. It just seemed like the little old ladies got the last laugh.

While holding a hank of particularly pretty greeny-yellow wool, and trying to decide if I should buy one or two, I hear a raspy, old lady voice off to my side, "Well, maybe I should buy her the green since that's the color she has in her living room." And she takes the hank out of my hand - Out! Of! My! Hand! - and walks off.  She walks off!

And you might wonder, "Why did you not throw this old lady yarn stealer to the ground and take it back?" Because generally that would be my first reaction. But see, my mom was right there. And there were so many other pretty yarns, and sometimes you just have to let the old lady walk away, you know? But the yarn buying mood had passed. My mom did score some lovely, just lovely, golden merino that I somehow failed to take a picture of. Perhaps she'll put it on her Ravelry page?

(Mom, now you'll have to update your Ravelry page because everyone will be coming to see. Well, everyone being about three people. One of which is you.)

My mom, putting on a brave face in the rain.

My sister, wondering how long one person could possibly look at yarn.

Dough. Lovely, lovely, dough.