Showing posts with label Common Ground Fair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Common Ground Fair. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

All the fun of the fair

The Fleece Tent under a lowering sky.

The last time we attended the Common Ground Fair in Unity, Maine, was 2004, and the weather was quite a lot better than on our most recent visit, September 20th. Nonetheless, it was pretty much as I recalled--roots, shoots, face-painting, tribal elders, excellent food, fiber animals, hand-dyed yarns, textiles, border collie demos, twangy music, home-made soap, scythes, horse-drawn ploughs....Get the picture?


The only non-knitting-related event I attended was a workshop on Shape-Note Singing. That was mainly so I could sit in a tent and get warm. I broke down and bought a Polarfleece cap, since it seemed heretical, not to mention counterproductive, to buy a woolen hat I could knit myself.

Herewith, some postcards:


 Everything you ever wanted to know about felting, taught by Andrée Bella of Board Landing Farm in Belfast, Maine.  


Replica of 19th century toy.










Alongside the Fiber Tent were individual yarn vendors.

Sad and stoic.


Girl kissing her pet fiber bunny.

MMMMMMMmmmmmm....cashmere!  I longed for the cobalt skeins.

Source of afore-mentioned cashmere.


Imprisoned bunnies 








Thursday, September 4, 2014

Goldengrove unleaving...

Gentle knitters,
We're back after a theoretically restorative break. It was a break, certainly. Specifically my left foot, which was decidedly unsupportive when I, blithely navigating the pavements of Portland, Maine, tripped and fractured it. "I am such a klutz," I told Casapinka. She avouched that this particular injury is known in the medical world as a "ballerina fracture," since it's a common dance-inflicted malady. So it goes....I am a ballerina in klutz clothing. I was following my inner ballerina. I could have danced all night...(NOT).



Er, I was on assignment for Interweave Knits, and had just concluded a long interview with an amazing yarn personage whom you will read about next spring in the pages of the afore-mentioned magazine. The next morning I returned to the interviewee's dyeing studio to do the photography. My foot was swollen and painful, but like the intrepid postman who braves punishing weather, I got the job done, gentle knitters! And then H and I drove three hours to University Foot and Ankle Center in Providence, RI, had the x-rays, learned the awful truth. A cast for at least six weeks.

Alfie graciously accommodates my injured foot.
Fortunately my favorite activities are sedentary:  knitting, writing, music. I began a series of personal, knitting-centric essays, collected under the rubric "Unwindings" on Lion Brand Yarn's website (this link is command central of LB's Internet presence and will take you in many interesting directions) and Facebook page. You can read numero uno here.  Another will appear fairly soon, and then another. This is going to be a monthly thing. Just like the fiction I write for Lion Brand's Pattern Journal. You can subscribe to this for free, simply by clicking the orange letters on the website that say "click here."

***
Well, enough about me. I'm happy to report that last month's book giveaway, 60 Quick Luxury Knits from Sixth and Spring Publishing, went to Carol in San Ramon, CA. She's a displaced New Englander, so we like her extra much. There will be another book review and giveaway, most probably before the end of the month. Stay tuned and participate! These bestowals are genuine, not some kind of PCH gimmick.

Also before the end of the month, H and I will beeline to the Common Ground Fair in Unity, Maine. Run by the Maine Organic Farmers Association annually on the third weekend of September, it's a dream experience for knitters and fiber people. There's a Fiber Marketplace, a Fleece Tent, and a panoply of organic activities, critters (e.g. pygora goats, alpacas, angora bunnies), and demonstrations (Border Collies rule!). Plus, the food options are excellent. I shall report, natch, but hope you can go on your own.

In the meanwhile, enjoy the golden September days. Late summer into autumn--the most beautiful time of year in New England, I humbly opine.

Partial portrait: H's tomatoes, my messed-up feet partly shielded by messy knitting bag, Lola.