Water and women
Posted by Lanea on Sunday, June 4th, 2006
Not much time for words these days, but here are some images from the annual groovywomen’s trip to the rivershore.
Friday’s arrival scene. Gray and blustery. That’s Virginia in the distance, and the Chesapeake bay is down the river to the left.
Some pictures of me and my spinning, courtesy of Andrea, who knows my camera better than I do:
That’s some Lorna’s Laces top. The fiber is a joy to spin, but I don’t think I need to own the yarn.
Some socks I’d made found homes:
On Morgan, who is fetching in the fire colors, and Claudia,
Who was taken by how well these Trekking stripes matched up. I tried to get pictures of Claudia jumping up and down after I gave her these, but no dice. I should have called on Andrea to take charge of the camera again.
A bag Claudia crocheted for Dami, who may in fact have a small attachment to purple. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Several women brought yarns they didn’t need to own anymore, and it was great to see the crocheters gin up these net bags. Each bag was as unique as each person. Of course, I only managed to get the one decent picture. There is a small chance that adult beverages affected my ability to take pictures. But I guarantee you that several people learned how to crochet, and a few others expanded their knitting abilities, and Etaine and I had a great time spinning.
Our Sunday ritual: crabs at Evanses. You must pronounce it “Evanzez,” or the locals will punish you. One of us apparently mis-spoke and called it “Evans'”, because they had no blue crabs for us. Somehow, Claudia, Dami, and I survived. We survived on crass conversation and butter, if I remember correctly.
There should be more pictures, but I was too busy doing whatever I was doing to remember to pick up my camera. Imagine one final shot here. On the way out of town, Claudia and Dami stopped. They stopped to buy me flowers, only I didn’t know the plan. And then they chased me around the beltway to deliver a bouquet of roses. Sniff sniff. Thanks, girls. It’s the only time I’ve ever enjoyed being pulled over.
Filed in knitting,Travel | One response so far
Lissaon 17 Jun 2006 at 5:21 pm 1Oh, Amy. What a fine thing you have wrought! The Celtic Festival was marvelous (just ignore the redhead in the corner having heat stroke.) The spinning workshop was a blast, and I don’t know how I ever got lucky enough that you are my friend. Whatever the Celtic word for “unbelievably fabulous uberpresident and festivalrunner supreme” is, you are it, baby. With frosting. In my language, we say Yasher Koach. Which basically means “job well done” on steroids.