The same weekend: three bake sales and one art craft sale. There were two bake sales in two churches. One church was selling specialty knives in addition to baked goods. We got knives. Why? Don’t know. The second church sold books and baked goods. We got books. Six grandchildren all read. We don’t need books. But who can resist a book sale. The art was Delaware by hand and displayed the wares of craftsman from the area. We looked and admired. As expected, the price of handmade craft was expensive. In between we hit a yard sale. That was priceless. There was junk. Someone sold a Kitchen Aid mixer (not junk). Her neighbor dutifully handed over cash and the sale was done before our eyes. We bought a vintage baby buggy from the very same neighbor. Ok! I got another project to fix up. The last stop was the AARP scholarship show – craft, baked goods, and a farmer’s market with corn straight from Georgia. It was a packed day.
I actually had to pull these images off my iPhone. Per usual, I shoot an image with my camera. But I forgot…
Have I mentioned the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival? It’s huge. Folks from far and wide come. Who knew? It’s like a cult. There are a lot of people who love sheep and wool. And they spin and weave and knit and…. I’m a bystander through association. I have a big camera and it seems not too many (big cameras) are in attendance. Sheep are photogenic? There is a building devoted to photography and there are prizes for your best sheep portrait. I’ll pass. But here we are. And I suddenly needed something to send to the kids. If you know my sense of humor… the sheep contest. The judge waxed poetic about fleece, bone structure, roundness, squareness and so many other attributes. Sorry. To me, a sheep is a sheep and they all look the same. Heresy!! Shoot me at dawn. All around me they sell sheep – meat – lamb and mutton. Gyros! You can’t have a proper one without lamb. The folks selling did not look Greek. I didn’t buy any. But I can’t help wondering what happens to the losers? My kids thought the joke was horrible. They have their mother’s sensibility in them.
Old photos. I came across this. It’s about 2002, Lincoln Center. Barbara Cook – quite the diva. She’s starring. I didn’t know her at the time. About a decade later I discovered the American songbook. She’s a big part of it. Who knew? Lots of folks. I was late to the party. There was a craft fair that day I took this slide. Now that’s a full circle for me. Look! Sheep! A sheep shearing demo. Considering what I know about weaving, it’s odd to see that this image is in my files and I only just ran across it. How significant insignificant things seem on second look. History’s a funny thing.
Sailing vessels paraded along the Hudson River in 1976, 1986, and in 2000. That’s my memory. In 1976 I was a newly minted surgery intern at Albert Einstein Medical School rotating out of the Lincoln Hospital ER. We were 24 hours on, 24 hours off. I started on July 1 – day off. That made July 4th my second day off. I was exhausted. Dead on my feet so to speak. The hours of an intern are severely restricted nowadays. Better or worse? I have an opinion. It doesn’t matter. I managed to drag myself to the Hudson that day with girlfriend and camera. Slide film. I had plenty with me. Someone standing next to me offered/asked to buy film when they ran out. Nothing doing. I needed/brought everything I had. This was historic. It was a once in a lifetime parade. So, of course, it wasn’t. As if NYC ever needed more tourists, they did it (tall ships) again and again. By 2000, I was a better photographer with more sleep and better (different) equipment. I was not on a ship but my lenses reached better. As summer days in NYC go, it was hazy. But I was part of history again that day. I’ve been fortunate that way. I could have been working July 4th, 1976 and missed it all. I wasn’t. I saw it from a front row spot. Lucky me. That year my vacation was the month of August. You had to take it when you were assigned. Lucky me. Nothing left to live for for the rest of the year. We went to Italy on a tour. I remember that too.
You take pictures of cats? Same principle – sheep. Eyes, it’s in the eyes. Focus. I’m tying up loose ends here. I just readjusted my DSLR camera to focus as I would like it to be. And it was largely more successful. These days I am so used to the point and shoot cameras that I don’t look in the view finder as much. It’s not laziness. I’ve gotten used to holding the camera at the level of my subject. This means that instead of bending I simply hold the camera lower and press the shutter. In a pen, this means I can get closer to the sheep without climbing in. if you recall, everything is related. Only the subjects change. The technique crosses over. So, I have been asked, how many pictures of sheep do I need. I’ve got one already. It’s like why I go to the movies. I’ve seen one already?
No, I’m not OCD. Am I? No matter. Here’s something you don’t see every day: Spinning in the park. Or, bobbin lace. It’s a craft not in much popularity. It’s intricate and fascinating. The artist said take all the pictures you want, just none of me. The sheep are trimmed and groomed for show. Why? The fleece is reduced to short fiber. The sheep sure look better. But then again maybe I forgot, they are destined to be eaten. Lamb burger? Gyro?
I just met this instrument again for the first time at a Celtic concert at our library. I have seen Maggie and her step puppets before. This time the instrument made more sense and had more meaning. It’s just time, experience, and a little percolation. It’s all cool. Maggie’s gadget synchronizes the step puppets to her music. Yup, she literally steps on a board and the puppet move to the time of her dulcimer.
What does a Scotsman wear under his kilt? That is a classic question. More to the point is that it’s not natural for guys (to wear skirts). I’m not being sexist. This poor guy wears pants in normal life. His legs are naturally splayed. It’s a guy thing. Unfortunately, there was ample indication of what was under the kilt. A lady would never show. So I guess that part is sexist. I really don’t want to know the answer to this question. Nope, don’t. Please don’t tell me.
What’s felt? Well you have probably felt felt. It’s a soft material. The definition is more like: take some raw wool and put it under pressure and rub; the fibers will lock and form a sheet of material. Or you may use a needle to lock the material into shapes. How about a giraffe, or a dragon, or a heron? Yup, she did all of that and more. It was enormous 9as in more then 15 feet in size) and she demurred on how long it took to do the giraffe. I’d have lost interest long before the neck ever got done. Hey, it’s art! My (felt) hat’s off to you.
In order to get yarn you start with a sheared fleece. The fleece is washed. It’s turned into roving. Then, it’s spun. After that you knit or weave. If you skip the spinning, you can felt. Felt? The would be pressing the fibers together until they form a sheet of fiber all on their own. Like art, this is the raw material for creating a myriad of things. I’m more interested in the process than in creating art. People like came to buy the raw materials. Sometimes it’s the journey more than the destination. It’s all here. If you know fiber – ie spin and weave or knit – then you recognized the various states I mention. Otherwise, enjoy the patterns and color.
There is an odd mix of craft that is accepted for entry at the fair. It’s not just sheep. Brooms, wood turning, music, there were vendors of all sorts from source to finished products. You could get elaborate finished wool and fresh off the lamb fleece. There was an odd booth which had products made from old silverware. Nice. The craftsman cut off the handles of spoons and forks and made napkin rings. We were short (only got six last year) and able to get the four more we needed. This year he made a one fingered salute of a pickle fork. Yeah, it kind of reflects the mood of the country right now. Use your imagination; this one doesn’t have a picture to explain. Just hold up your middle finger and look in the mirror.
I told you there was a crowd. Cars covered the hillside. Get there late and you have a hike to the entrance. We got there early and found folks tailgating just like a football game. What was the rush? Aside from the sheep, there were llamas. And, there were angora rabbits. You can spin your yarn right off the rabbit. It’s just a neat trick to do that. Owner and rabbit were having a ‘chill’ moment.
Maryland Sheep and Wool – Festival. Say it and it’s an instant party. There was a huge crowd. The ominous weather forecast did nothing to lessen the attendance. Folks are a bit quirky. I don’t see knitting and sheep tattoos every day. Who spins in a dinosaur costume? Look closely. Bring your kids. The poor kid in the wagon was shivering. It’s a whole lot easier to carry your kid. There was no room to maneuver a stroller. Yes, it was that crowded.
What can I say, it’s the closest thing to gambling that I can aspire to do. That’s Jane. She’s the auctioneer. She knows us. She poked fun at me. Last year we had to rent a van late on a Saturday afternoon in order to cart our purchased loom home from the fair. Yeah, it cost more to rent the van than it cost to buy the loom. And the bench that came with it was worth more than the whole lot. Ha ha, the joke was on me. You know you’ve been marked when they remember you for that stunt.
That singer sewing machine is old – 1910’s – according to the index of serial numbers. The great wheel we would win was one that I’d seen early in the day. Little did I know we’d have to make more room in the car going home. And of course, it rained (just like last year). So our purchases had to reside under the umbrella while we bid onward. You can guess (me) who was wet, “taking another one for the team.” At least I wasn’t on the ‘net looking for a van.
Actually, we know Jane’s significant other too. He’s from WV too. He has a part we dropped off with him two years ago. This is second year now in which we have cajoled him for not producing the part we need for a spinning wheel that he had promised. We know where he lives. We’re not worried he’ll run away. That’s a lot of trust considering we aren’t in his neighborhood too much these days. It doesn’t look like it we’ll see the part any time soon. ….kind of like the leaky barn on a sunny day.
One shot. Grab shot. Street photography. There’s nothing pretty. It’s out of focus. I did not get another image. The woman modeling was clowning around up and down the aisle at the fair. She pirouetted as the dress maker shot video. Lighting was simply not up to getting a motion stopping image. But, the image was enough to catch my eye as I edited. Sometimes you miss by that much…or, you are just that close….
It’s “fiber.” That includes knitting and weaving. There are lots of knitters. There are fewer weavers and spinners. The two groups are pretty separate skills. So, it’s called fiber to get everyone to gather under one roof. Angora fiber can be spun straight from the rabbit. It’s fussy enough that the fiber is quite expensive. The sticks are scarf/shawl pins. If you need to ask, you don’t wear them. And, this takes me to the question of taxidermy. How do you stuff a trophy fish? It looks fake to me. That’s the trick I suppose. The plaque says it was a caught fish. It sure looks artificial. But then again, I’m no fisherman. Onward… to the next fiber fair. Hey! It’s been a while since I did a post with a fish. I guess this is not the case now. But…
Fire and Ice. It’s hard to put on a winter festival with ice in 61-degree weather. It’s a bald face attempt to bring foot traffic to downtown. Commerce. Business. Money. To be sure someone benefited. Someone paid. People came. They saw, they ate, they purchased. We arrived on the second day; the melt had begun. Ice sculpting is temperature dependent. Five Olympic rings were only two in the late afternoon. More telling was the makeshift ice rink that used white plastic instead of ice. Hey, there’s no refrigeration, just a lot of good intention.
This show was in early February. Yesterday, February 21 was 72 here. No, nope, there ain’t no global warming. The last time it was this warm in NYC was back in the 1930’s. Um, yup, the hundred year heat spell….
We were in an old one room schoolhouse. It had been built by a millionaire in tribute to his mom. That made it a bit fancier than your ordinary school. But it was old and finally moved and restored. It was fortunate. We don’t keep most things once they are abandoned. There was an old Seth Thomas clock on the wall. I’m a bit more conversant with old clocks now. It’s amazing what a year of experience brings. There’s a label behind the glass door. What’s goofy is that I have the same clock with the same label. My door has a mirror (the old one was probably replaced). But, it’s neat to see something old that I have reference with. Yawn! But to me it’s special to realize that my bargain purchase is legitimate. I paid so little I was afraid it was a complete fake.
William Golding, not the author, but, well-known maker of spinning wheels was at the NY wool festival. He’s legendary. But, his booth was tucked in a far corner and could be easily missed. His work is prized and the prices for his work are stupendous. How much? I came across his name at the Maryland Sheep and Wool festival where one of his wheels was auctioned. The bidding climbed into the thousands and a woman won with a bid in excess of $3k. Yeah! That’s a lot of money. It was easily the showstopper item of the auction. So, to meet Mr. Golding in person was an honor. He was a bit embarrassed to be sure. Nonetheless I shamelessly asked for a picture of he and his son. We bought as drop spindle for some money but not nearly the $9k for one of his wheels shown here. Craftsmanship! It’s like a Ferrari. You can drive in style… or not. Your choice. I was tickled to meet the man.
Sheep and wool? Ostensibly it’s all about the fiber? The market baskets – fair trade – sold like hot cakes. Everywhere you looked someone was carrying one. We got one. They have great utilitarian use. Plus, they are good for you and for the makers. Win win. Bonus. I got a good image. This lady was just dressed this way. She wasn’t there to be picturesque.
Hand weaving and spinning is a lost art. Wrong! There are many enthusiasts. It’s not too common. Your average person does not weave or spin. But the gatherings – so called festivals – draw thousands – of people, sheep not included. There is fiber on the hoof and fleece and finished product. Lots of money changes hands. There was a classic auction complete with rapid fire auctioneer. His job is to rev up the crowd and grow enthusiasm and drive the price ever higher. The tapestry loom he was standing in front went for $20. Really!? The wood was worth more ( a whole lot more). But there were other things that sold for a lot more. Last spring I bought a loom – sight unseen – for a mere bagatelle. This time around I stood pat. Yes, there are llamas – and alpacas – and sheep – and goats. A good time was had by all.
It’s a crisp fall day, almost Halloween, and I’m reminded that the days are shorter. I don’t go to the beach fully dressed but the evening before had been a cold 41 degrees. Sometimes it feels a lot colder than the temperature on the thermometer. Wrong. I was too hot in my North Face ski parka. In fact, I was way overdressed. Maybe I’m old? We were on our way to the parade. And outside the toy store this guy was enticing anyone with small children to enter the store. Nope, we were on a mission to the parade.
Blow yourself up. Not literally. Recent years have had an explosion of yard balloons that inflate and decorate your lawn. Purpose? …dunno. Now you can be the first on your block to blow yourself up. Yeah!
Finally! Someone with cleverness and wit, it’s not a prerequisite of the parade. But I get it. Brilliant! Yes, there were a few Harry Potters too. But Magritte? Great!
Lame. Floats, commercials, advertisements, it ain’t a Macy’s day Thanksgiving parade. Then again there was not too much helium involved. Who thought of this? It’s funky tacky. Sorry, that’s my opinion and I’m stickin’ with it. I’ve been to too many parades and seen too much stuff. There’s not too much artistry in a store bought balloon. Boring!