textiles from San Cristobal de la Casas

 

                                                            

Day 2: still waiting to dry                           The Ribby Cardi in Silk Garden

 

 

Saturday, my friend Sam, called to say he was up to (rather than for, he’d just had surgery on his shoulder days before) a walk.  It was warm, in the 70’s  and a perfect time to visit "my rock".   Sam, by profession, is a stone guy.  He was the first person I called when I discovered that the ROCK had been vandalized.  I couldn’t leave it that way.   For years, and years, I have walked to and by this rock.  I stop there. I meditate on things there.  I enjoy the sun in it’s company.  I love this rock.  I have more affinity to it than with most.. oh well, it gets pretty strange, best to stop here, huh?.  I wanted to have my rock whole.  Twice before I had found the pieces that the vandal pulled off, set them back in place.  Each time it happened more pieces had fractured off.  The last time, C and I had put the largest piece out of harms way behind the rock.

 

Five pieces have been restored to their places, I haven’t found them all.  It’s a three dimensional puzzle I’m trying to solve. 

I promise this will be the last picture of the fleece called Bess that I show in the washed state.  Last night as I went to put more of the dry fleece into the bags, I found Sammy curled up on my drying racks, cozied in Bess. 

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Can anyone tell me how to put that little Google Search tool on my blog?  I wanted to search my archives and had to do it month by month. 

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( I really screwed up this post.  Figuring I could change the size of the pictures in ‘edit’, I just clicked and dragged… no good.  As I was about to download them from the camera AGAIN, it started to beep and the battery went dead.  I’m stuck with fuzzy pictures.  @$#!!! )

It’s come down to the inevitable.  I’m wool rich and time poor.  These days I’ll go one further, I’m roving or at least wannabee roving, that being clean fleece, rich.  Take ‘Beth’ for instance.  ‘Beth’ is  the fleece (you know what I mean, the sheep who’s shorn fleece ) that has been occupying my washing machine, my deck and my free time the past week.  Beth’s fleece weighed in at over 9 lbs.  That’s a lot of fleece, say that again..A.LOT.O’.FLEECE.  It’s still not finished.  I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am for the reprieve in the weather that has allowed for open windows and doors during that first (of three) awesomely smelly wash.   C made that mistake of opening the washer and asking what I was doing, made his eyes water I tell you.  It cards like a dream, nearly perfect after just one pass.  I’ve put it through twice, just because I can’t quite believe my eyes.  but, there certainly isn’t a need to.  Last evening I sat down with a second glass of wine and started to spin some, just to see…  very nice.  The problem with ‘Bess’ is that I really don’t know who, or what, ‘Bess’ is.  See, every summer at the fair, the same sweet older man, a Mr. Swe(e)tt, offers the spinners his fleeces at a really cheap price.  This year,  I somehow was off doing something else when he dragged the bags over.  To make the story short, I ended up with ‘Bess’, no questions asked.  I have my suspicions, best not to go there.  What I do know about "’Bess’ is that she enjoyed a pasture with some burdock, not much, but it’s there.  And, that she occasionally enjoyed rubbing against or walked through something a bit thorny.  Big Bess.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Then there is the 3.4 lbs of lovely chocolate Romney roving I brought home form Rhinebeck.  Then there is…. we’ve been down that rosey path before.  I should be looking forward to winter.

Next load is ready for the second wash.  I need to get this stuff out to dry before the wind comes up this afternoon.