It would be remiss of me not to mention how beautiful the leaves are this fall. But in doing this, I also have to confess that I left my camera at home, so you must take my word for the ragged beauty we encountered and color my world in carmine, indian yellow and flame. Over these three colors and their endless permutations add a sky of Payne's grey or indigo with the occasional shaft of light fighting its way through the grey crust. And, inexplicably, green grass!
We spent Wednesday evening at the Big Lynn Lodge in Little Switzerland. The weather was stormy the entire way, though not so bad we did not have so beautiful vistas of the mountainous countryside. I had a bag of Noro cotton-blend yarn tucked in a cloth tote to keep me busy, and when the temperature dropped more than 25 degrees and the evening rain and wind were mixed with sleet, I set about making the bag of yarn into a long, squishy scarf. The Thursday morning walk from our cabin to the Lodge for breakfast was much more comfortable with the hot-from-the-hook scarf.
We had visited the Penland School in the afternoon, a trip always filled with inspiration, visually satisfactory to a degree hard to explain. And I was so pleased to find Margaret Couch Cogswell's 2012 wall calendar there. It is tall and thin, the perfect size for the narrow space above the light switches in the studio. Check out her blog here.
A visit to a gallery such as The Penland School always sets the creative wheels in motion. This visit was no exception. I have enjoyed making books for years, in an off-and-on sort of way. There is no experience quite like that of making a hand-made book, of holding the covers carefully as you leaf through the marvelous feel of papers selected particularly for texture, color or the simple ability to hold paint or text well. I made a small book for Cynthia in August, and it got my book fairy out of hibernation and into flight again. I think I will have to divide my time between bookmaking, crochet, and planting bulbs in the next weeks. There is no point in not doing something when it brings a great deal of happiness, is there?
Thursday morning: At the Appalachian Handcraft Show in the Asheville Civic Center, I found some soft handspuns. I had Ethan in mind when I found this yarn, as he loves "rainbow colors." He describes himself as a "sunshine boy," so this might be the ticket for him:
And at Purl's on Wall Street, there was a basket (now greatly diminished) of Mango Moon yarn. Well, I had never thought of crochet with pink beads and stones, and the purple I'd used once before was so rich . . . and so I was rummaging happily in the funky yarn pile:
Aren't these tumbled stone beads just too yummy?
The folks at Purl's really "get" me. I don't need 200 yards of a lot of different yarns, but a touch of color or texture here and there are perfect for the landscape-inspired crochet I most love. For people like me, they have little mini skeins of wool, and I simply could not walk away from the possibilities there:
I think of them as brushstrokes of subtle color (except for the bright, cheery pink).
And an interesting book on geometric crochet,
Next, on to Friends and Fiberworks, where I found some of the blending fibers I was looking for. In fact, I found so much I could have been overwhelmed, as I was on my first visit to this Yarn Eden. But I am made of sterner stuff than that! I gave myself a mental shake and began filling my lovely wicker shopping basket in the several sweeps I made around the shop. Because I paid cash, I was given a 10% discount, which was no slouch amount.
While we were having lunch at Tupelo Honey, Charles looked up from the table to see Bill and Pat Martin in line, and what a happy reunion that was for the four of us! I had last seen them in Asheville six or eight weeks ago after Pat had been given some scary medical news, but the new MRI set everything to rest, and life is smooth again. There is nothing that can so quickly put a life on hold like a medical issue.
Friday morning: A trip to the Ag Center and the Southeastern Animal Fiber Fair. I have been looking forward to this for what seems like forever, and poor, long-suffering Charles was my package bearer for the event. I provided him with two large canvas totes so he could keep up with everything without the struggle that multiple plastic bags brings. Every man should have so kind a wife as this.
I cannot detail what we saw at the Fiber Fair. This must be akin to the experience of a child in a toy factory. The two oversized totes were bulging when we left. I was looking for things not available in shops, so I found yarn with curly locks dangling from the plies, another from Jazzturtle with a core of felted sweater wool. All tumbled in a big wooden bowl, they are feastable wool yarn:
Worth another look:
Rack upon rack of open skeins of the most luscious colors and blends of wools, pre-felt bats, bins spilling over with roving, curly locks of the most amazing colors, and some incredibly knitted creations— all this every where I turned my eyes! Unfortunately, I could not take it all in. My leg and back let me down, and we left after only 2 1/2 hours.
We shared lunch with Anne and Steve, and I spread the yarns over the table, a few at a time. Anne got the bug, and there was a message on my cell phone later that she had found some unusual yarns herself. Anne's specialty is her felted (I want to say "painted," they are so detailed) pictures. I cannot wait to see what she does with her curly locks.
On the way back to Atlanta, my brain was exploding with color and design possibilities. My love of pure funk was satisfied these couple of days in Asheville and environs—and I have the most wonderful collection of oddball yarns to work with over the next months!
Charles, long-suffering, has to put up with the brain outbursts. Surely he has earned a number of Stars For His Crown from this trip, alone.
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