The weather was simply perfect as knitters/crocheters/spinners from near and far gathered to ogle Susan's yarns and watch the shearing. The buzz of the clippers lulled us into some kind of happy trance as we imagined all those lovely fleeces turning into yarn and roving. And calculating how big the CSA shares would be.
Chappy's Mom and LiquidLace were there from Ravelry as well as a few others. It was a regular party at the MV Fiber Farm table as the other vendors/farms watched us squealing and laughing. Susan's worsted and lace weight mohair/cormo yarns were serious crack and the colors are spectacular. I had to audibly growl at people to keep them from snagging my pile of "souvenirs." I thought I knew what good wool was UNTIL I got to feel the fleece straight from the sheep. We're talking crystal meth, people. The frothy white wool still coated with lanolin was passed around the group like a joint at a Grateful Dead concert. Then they passed around Basil the baby goat and people started to swoon. And then they got out the Kool-Aid. OK, not really, but dang near. I'm not sure if I could handle a bigger fiber festival. I think I'd have some kind of tactile overload and start blubbering things like "wawawawawool....pretty yarn...pretty pretty yarn...like yarn...must touch yarn...yarn happy."
Later in the day I checked out a needlepoint display and thought I had wandered into another universe. Hushed tones in an old house with some door prizes, needlepointed pillows and counted cross stitch bunnies. God bless the needlepointers(I have stitched a few pieces myself), but they're not exactly a laugh a minute. And they don't have Basil.
I drove around the empty roads imagining what a nightmare the traffic must be in the summer. I think it may be a Texan thing to immediately hop in the car and drive all the way around the island and time it. It took me just over an hour to cover it and that includes wasting 10 minutes thinking about taking the ferry to Chappaquiddick. Instead, I spent some time near the Gay Head Light House. The whole island was wonderfully empty--just locals and a few mad knitters. No lines to get a lobster roll at Garcia's deli or a table at The Black Dog. Heck, even the teenage girls working at the StopnShop were in a good mood.
I stayed at The Mansion House in Vineyard Haven and had a lovely room with chintz and stripes. I wanted room service, privacy and the Red Sox on cable in lieu of the chatty coziness of a B&B. And I got it. Hmm, maybe I should book ahead for next year.....