I had a birthday recently. Not a big one (big enough, however) so guess what my kids / husband gave me. Yes, my very own blog, complete with the first entry, which was written by No 1 daughter. No 1 daughter does not knit (and she can’t spell purl). She is also a psychologist – which explains odd comments about mental health issues. She does, however, capture my feelings about wool.
Wool is the perfect antidote to idiot people. It is beautiful and soft and useful and helps me unwind. There are hanks of wool with my name on them, just waiting to be discovered. They call for me and I will find them because they are meant to be with me. What’s not to love?
Which brings me to Fibre East, a local yarn festival at Ampthill in Bedfordshire, where I have just spent a most enjoyable day tracking down some of my lost yarn. And a yarn bowl. And some stitch markers. Plus the odd pattern. Hey, why should I stop at yarn? There is a lot of yarny stuff out there which needs my love and a place in my home.
I went to Fibre East all by myself last year – first time visitor. This time I took a couple of friends and shared the yarny love. I’m not quite sure how much we all spent but we have jointly rehoused a lot of fibre – not to mention some spindles. (My friends have decided – as of today – to take up spinning, Me, I just want to knit / crochet. Someone else can do the spinning thing – although I could be tempted to try dying my own wool. Just not yet – too much knitting to do.)
Anyway, I do love yarn festivals! Roll on the next foray – although I do have to do a bit of destashing first.