Inspecting our Black Sheep Gathering 2019 haul

My second Black Sheep Gathering was fiber full, just like last year. So that means I have been a spinner for a year now. Woot woot!

Let's take a sniff through the stash shall we? Melissa started us off. I think she may have a preference for natural fibers. She may take after Gus that way, he liked a rustic wool.

Well Mellie, do you think Momma's new sticker is right? Does Momma speak fluent cat?

Yeah Momma you do... with a funny accent. 

What kind of accent? I don't know a Momma accent?

 Yes the sticker is Burt approved too.

Actually Burt likes to lick plastic. Eww I know but we all have our quirks. So he was licking the overwrap for my new needles.

I think I buy needles, usually sock needles, everytime I see Carolina Homespun's booth at a festival. I started buying at Rhinebeck because they're one of the few supply vendors there. And I have continued here. I knit most of my socks on 2.25mm Knitter's Pride dreamz wooden needles. I always have multiple socks on the needles so I "need" more needles. Well, that and needles do wear out an break with use. I also like trying out different needles so this time I bought zings. 

Back to the festival talk. When I decided to have lunch I was joking with a group of ladies in front of me, I tend to lose a bit of my introversion when I'm surrounded be fellow fiberistas. One of the ladies who I thought was part of a group was really not part. She waved me over to her when I turned to find a seat. We had a lovely chat about wool and where life takes us. She was a Vermonter that now lives west coast. She had taken a class many years ago that was taught by a South Dakotan, and was disappointed because the class was altered to fit the need of most of the students but not her need. She mostly understood but was still disappointed to not learn what was advertised. Anyways we had a lovely chat that did not drain my introvert battery. 

I'm always surprised when this little vignettes happen at fiber festivals. I still remember watching two ladies talk about how weird hair growth felt after cancer treatments at one Rhinebeck. So thanks happy lady for sharing lunch and the love of fiber with me at BSG.

Now onto what I bought: seven bumps of fiber from Shaggy Bear Farm to fill in more of my collection from her fold. I leaned to finer fibers since I did not tend to get them before. Two colors of fiber from Greenwood fibers, and two braids from Renegade Fibers. Filling out the non fiber side of the haul include a copy of Ply magazine, a tool for picking up stitches, a tool to tell us what weight fiber is spun at, stitch markers, DPN needles and a lovely basket. But you've already seen the basket put to use.

Therapy session

I took one of my Black Sheep Gathering purchases out for a little stroll in the backyard. 

I realized the other day while admiring my garden that I had created a great way and place to take yarnie pictures. I do miss all the yarn on grass pictures that I took in NY. I don't really have a well lit pleasant background spot in the new house. Plus one of my go to spots was already occupied. 

What Momma? This chair shows off our colors well enough, and it is cushy too. It is a prime spot for kitten recharging.

Anyways back to this morning's project. I took my gorgeous new basket filled with yarn outside and had a little photo shoot in the garden. What better backdrop than blooming tomato plants? It was some much needed yarn, color, and outdoor therapy time. I also discovered that my basket can hold 18 pairs of pre-socks or as others would say sock yarn. It also held a few skeins of not sock yarn. Yes I buy that sometimes too, just nowhere near as often.

My feline yarn companions were quite put out since they did not get to experience the outside portion of the session. They complained loudly about how unfair life was. How can we be yarn inspectors when we cannot get to the yarn? Then I came back inside and it was nap time so the world continues. 

Aggressive Pruning; Life Lessons from my Garden

Who knew when I started planting last  year that it would teach me so much. I mean honestly I knew I would learn a bit about growing things but I didn't know it would teach me about growing myself.

I had dianthus looking horrible and thought about pulling them out but with spring and patience they bloomed lovely. I mean honestly they were rocking the patio. Then they started to look bad again I thought about pulling them out again, but just cut back aggressively. Instead of wasting energy trying to support dying stems and blooms they redirected that energy into growing. Now I have a happy little mound of new growth. I am hopeful they will be able to bloom again. It felt good getting rid of sad brown crunchy bits. I could almost hear the new leaves sigh while stretching for the sunshine.

I have been struggling in a position of leadership in a volunteer capacity. I hate it. I never wanted to do it but people looked at me with puppy dog eyes and said it is not that hard, we will support you. Then someone sent me that nasty anonymous letter and put a dent in my armor. And the people "supporting" me, didn't. They listened to my fears and hurt and made a few comforting noises and honestly expected me to get over it in a week. So they took my dented armor away from me.

Have you met my black little introverted heart? I come from pioneer stock I know how to circle the wagons. I could feel myself withdrawing every time I was around these people. I carefully placed every stone back in my introvert wall and closed myself off. I retreated and my wounds turned out to be deeper and they festered. Oh man did I fester. Every time someone said I needed to "get over it" and every time I heard myself ask why can't you get over it...I added another layer of bricks onto my you-can't-hurt-me wall.

The thing is, on the scale of things I know it was not that bad. It was a nasty little letter meant to steal confidence and make the sender feel more powerful. Guess what it worked. It got under my skin and poked holes in my identity, self worth and ego. It ricocheted around my brain and heart. It stole my joy. Yeah I'm tough, but it hit me hard in my soft candy center. One single anonymous letter...fucking bitch. Three little lines implying I was not good enough to some coward unwilling to sign their taunt...fucking bitch. Because if someone could take the time to do this what else are they capable of?Or even doing without me knowing about? And that my friends is how fear grips its icy had around your heart. How do stalkers start? When does it become a war? When does it go from nasty words on a page to harmful actions?

I don't have answers for those questions. I know that things were said behind my back to people. I know emails were deleted before I could read them because "they ruined my weekend." I know that this whole situation was not handled well or correctly by people who said they would support me. I know that I am watching my back.

Last month I took out one of those layers of bricks and sent out a message. I am resigning and retreating. I am going to take care of me and mine. I'm going to allow myself to regrow and bloom. I am cutting you out of my growth cycle. Your branch has been pruned. I am going to give my energy to myself and what I want, because I know that I am worthy!