It only took two years, but from sheep and wool festival to shawl, I give you the copper moth tussah scarf that's so old that I even have a category for it. (Okay, I don't really give you it, more like I give you a picture of it.)
Eleanor served as photo stylist. I asked her to model by wearing it, but instead she suggested posing it near the garden. She has good ideas.
I spent a lot of time while knitting it thinking of ripping it out. I actually ripped out two different scarf/shawl starts before getting to this one. The fabric is pretty loosely knit, more so than I would do if I had it to do over, but I think it works. Anyway, I like it. I wasn't sure the pattern would show up, but in the end it did. Right up until I pinned it out, I was considering other patterns, and then, well, the big pile of spaghetti turned into a shawl.
It wasn't that I didn't trust EAC (that's what I call her now: three shawls in a row and I think we're ready for a nickname). It was more that I didn't think I was doing either her or the handspun naturally-dyed yarn any justice. EAC and some blocking pins--now we're talking.
It didn't quite debut at Barb's open farm day on Saturday. The kids and I had a good time even if I was shawlless. I think Henry ate at least 30 cookies, and I got a treat of seeing knitting friends out of season (you know, not in May or October, official fiber festival months). Marcy came with us in the Car of Great Loudness; blogless Kathleen was there with her family, including her daughter who was the perfect partner in crime for my two; blogless Deanna also turned up with some gorgeous dog hair-wool-blend gloves she'd spun and knit; and finally Terri and her husband drove up on a motorcycle. What fun. The best part was when a bus drove up the remote country road, pulled in and disgorged a whack (isn't that the right term?) of knitters on an official yarn crawl. Apparently someone got wind of the open farm at Webs, and it was kind of on the way, and Bob's your uncle. Someone must have whispered the word "cashmere." Smart knitters. All that, and a sweet baby lamb. And a sweet mama too.
I confess, some cashmere silk came home with me. Because apparently I didn't get enough with all the lurking around the booth at Cummington. Okay and New Hampshire, what's your point? I was feeling all virtuous since I was already knitting another EAC (shetland triangle) with the camel silk I bought at New Hampshire THIS YEAR, and figured that gave me carte blanche to buy more.
Don't tell me different. What's done is done.