I am riding high on the fiber festival afterglow. Mr. Cutthroat and I drove to the local fiber festival, where I entered my saffron skein in the handspun fiber division. I was very happy with my very first competition and my very first ribbon! I won 3rd place, and I think I could have taken first had I not tied my skein with commercial yarn. Next year, I will not be making the same mistake. Watch out, because I will be taking the blue ribbon next year.
I bought so many treasures at the festival that Mr. Cutthroat looked like a pack mule. My pride and joy was this bag of fleece I bought. It will be my first time taking it all the way through the process from alpaca to yarn. I'd love to have my own yarn booth at a fiber festival some day. The people at the booths are really, how should I say this in a diplomatic way, eccentric. We walked into a booth with beautifully dyed roving and fiber. I noticed the woman holding down the fort was wearing very intricate slippers that appeared as if they were hand knitted. "Love your slippers," I told the woman. "Thanks, I traded these for meat." As she said it her face was so serious that it was as if she didn't even find what she said at all odd. That pretty much describes 75% of fiber enthusiasts. I want to be her someday. I want to be all crazy in a fiber/yarn tent making odd comments to my patrons. And, although I am not positive, I think Mr. Cutthroat could get on board with that. He could grow Chester A. Arthur mutton chops and make people uncomfortable. This could be a viable retirement option.
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