I'm OFFF!

!At 7AM the Saturday sky looked like something you might pull out of your lint trap after drying a load of white towels. But DH and I walked two brisk circuits of the mall with all the other gray hairs, had a quick soak in the hot tub at the gym, and by then the cloud cover had burned off and the day bade fair to be glorious!



We adjourned to Sully's, our favorite cafe, for breakfast. By this time, my endorphins were throwing a party in my brain what with the exercise and the sunshine and the pleasure of my dearly beloved's company. I was bouncing in my seat. DH stabilized me with a substantial breakfast, took me home, gave me a shopping basket, and told me to go and have fun at the Oregon Flock and Fiber Fest.



And oh my I did! Where to start, where to start? The first thing I did was go into the main building and saunter a bit. A woman came up to me and said, "Are you Roxie?" Now, I must confess that I really have a problem with names and faces, and my mind was just racing, trying to place this nice person. this must have shown on my face, because when I said,"Yes, I am." she kindly said, I'm Willow's sister-in-law. "You're Flower!" Oh, the relief! I've never met her, only heard about her from Willow. Then the question, "But how did you know it was me?" "Willow said you would likely be wearing a hat, and you're tall." Yep, I was about the tallest woman wearing a hat in the area. What a delightful surprise!

I have been yearning for pounds of Fantasy Fibers Mystery Batts, but when I got to their booth, they had completely sold out - within the first 90 minutes of opening, they had sold out alll their Mystery Batts! Woe! Sorrow! So I consoled myself with 24 ounces of merino (2 8oz balls of amethyst, and one 8oz ball of thistle) and 8 ounces of merino and tussah (in a luscious pink and grey subtleness).

Then I found a booth where a spinner was selling glorious yarn for astounding prices. I asked her if I was reading the numbers correctly. She smiled and explained that she had already gotten such pleasure out of spinning the yarn that it was reasonable for her to pass it along for other people to get pleasure out of it. Very zen! I succumbed to an aqueous colored skein of merino. Plus four varied bars of soaps, and I had blown my budget.

I wanted to stop by the Blue Moon booth, but it was packed. I would have had to sharpen my elbows in order to wedge myself in, As it was, I had to swing my shopping basket atop my head just to squeeze past. About halfway through my progress, I heard an authoritative young voice speaking from about my waist level, saying, "Excuse us, please." I backed up a few inches (all I could manage,) and saw a serious young man of about 8 who had decided it was time to go. His mom was remonstrating, "Bobby, be polite." He replied, "I am polite, mom. Excuse us, please." He got them speedily out of the crowd. If Bobby wants to run for president, I will vote for him. He's a natural leader.

.I lusted after further shopping baskets, but the money was really all gone - even my extra lunch fund. But oh, there is yet another shopping basket in my future. My resistance is weak.



Other years, the rovings have been dark, mysterious, serious stuff. This year I saw rovings that were as happy as Easter eggs! Lots of them,thank God. I'm ready for happy colors!

This is Melissa, a PDX knit blogger wearing a splendid sweater. She was remarking that in her mind's eye, she is tall and willowy, but photographs of her rarely make her look that way. So here is a photo of Melissa as tall and willowy.

The musicians on break. Rockers smoke, drink and do drugs. Entertainers at a fiber fest spin between sets.

This is Rebecca with her fleece acquisiton. I saw her struggling with these two huge bags of wool on the way back to the parking lot and offered to help. "No thanks," she replied with a big smile. "I'm not letting go of this till I reach the car!"


This little princess is wearing a precious sweater knit for her by her grandma. I felt just as exhausted as she was after only a couple hours at the fest. There were still animals to see and people to find and yarn to fondle, and I was just full to the brim. Sensory overload was kicking my synapses. If there had been about a thousand fewer people . . . and I had all the money in the world . . . and a cool quiet place to sit and regroup . . . naw . . . I did all the damage I could. Now, where to start?