Let's just get this out in the open right now and be done with it.
My photos of the New York Sheep and Wool Festival, known in the vernacular as Rhinebeck, are absolutely abysmal. I would like to blame the sheep, since they can't argue back, but I can only blame the photographer. My head was spinning around like Joe's new wheel (you'll see) the entire time, and it shows.
(I didn't even get a good picture of Carol S. And I really liked Carol S. So much that I can even forgive her for being so much funnier than I am. Carol, I'll make it up to you. Just don't open the file I'm sending at the office or in front of the kids.)
This is how I understand it all started.
Back in early summer, two knitters sat in a coffee shop in another state and for some reason– it must have been a slow news day–began to talk about me. They had never met me. They knew me only as chief cook and bottlewasher of this blog, and through comments on this blog and this blog.
These two knitters, Selma and Joe, decided it would be nice to meet me, and came up with a scheme to get me out to Rhinebeck on a sort of scholarship funded by blog readers.
When I learned of this idea I was stunned, flattered, and dubious. I have never been one to rely on the kindness of strangers, as in my life strangers have seldom been kind. Were they insane? Who the hell would give up stash money to import a knitter whose most complicated finished object was a pink bunny hat?
I was a total newbie then. I didn't fully comprehend the generosity of the knitting community.
Now I do.
I'll be posting the full story in little bits over the next two days.