I know this is hard to believe, but it's true. The photo workshop just plain pulled the stuffing out of me. I think you could have pulled the house out from under me for the first week after I got home, and I wouldn't have noticed (or cared). This is either a statement about how hard they worked us (10-16 hour days) or how old I am (not quite as old as dirt...let's just say dust for now). I decided it was better to stay silent despite my huge guilt about not posting sooner.
As I write, I am sitting in the Albuquerque airport, waiting for a flight that will take me to warmer days, sunshine, and roads that aren't either muddy, icy, snowy, or some spring-like combination of all three. I have always loved winter and chosen it as my favorite season. This year it has finally gotten to me...I will confess.
Since I wrote last, Bob received a totally amazing black cowboy (cowcat?) hat from his friend Margo Nickel, milliner extraordinaire. I have been remiss in bringing in the wrangler and getting him to model for some updated photos but will soon.
I had a bittersweet day last Wednesday...the daughter of a friend who passed way several years ago asked me to help her sort through her mom's stash and see what, if any, of her wool collection was still worth hanging on to. It felt a little bit like snooping in someone's closet, but I jumped in and together we spent several hours poking our noses (and hands) into bags of raw fleeces, kilos of silk rovings (like many kilos), and lots of hand dyed wool, both in the locks and carded into batts. Most of these items still had the original tags from the sellers, and it was like a peek at some sort of geological scale of wool history...seeing names from long ago and prices that seem laughable by today's standards. It ended up being a great day, despite my nervousness going in. I decided that it is just what I would want someday...someone who knows and cares to sort my belongings, rather than have them all end up in the dump. It was, when all is said and done, an honor, and the least I could do for all the wonderful memories I have of my sweet friend.
Friday's mail brought a big surprise...an unexpected gift of a hand knitted, hand spun shawl from the sheep of a dear friend in Wisconsin. It brought tears to my eyes, that someone would just send me such a present for no apparent reason. It was the kick in the butt I needed...one, that it was time to get out of my doldrums and get busy knitting again, and second, that is IS ok to use your handspun yarns and not save them for eternity (or a day when I'm dead and someone else is sorting through my stuff).
So thank you, Sandy. I send my love. You are one special person...for many different reasons.