Monday, September 21, 2009
r had many memorable moments at Fingerlakes this year. Some I just have to relate. Last year a lady admired my Wild Horse bag. She stroked it, and played with it. She came back a couple of times to look at it again. Then she brought her husband to see it. He was unimpressed. I wanted to say, look, just take it and send me a check when you can, but the husband was there and I didn't want to make trouble. They left without taking the bag. I felt so bad for the woman but what could I do? This year, a woman came with someone who I thought might be her mother. They said they were here to buy the Wild Horse bag. It was the same woman! They really thought I would have the bag! I felt just awful. I had even found a scrap of that fabric and made a bag that sold at Colorscape a week ago. I said I was sorry, that I didn't have any more of that fabric and wouldn't they consider any of the new bags? They just walked away. I'll keep looking for more Wild Horse fabric, but I know fabric companies. They love to discontinue runs and make you ache for it. I turned around and there was Libby Llop with a gallon jug of fresh goat milk for me to make soap with! She brought her husband, Dr. Quentin Llop, with her to the festival and I was able to meet him for the first time. He played the violin for the crowd and it was lovely. Libby had run a 50 mile race the day before in Cleveland and come in fourth. She said it was great being out in front and having the trail all to herself, but she couldn't hold the lead for fear of hurting her horse and fell back. It was good to see her and I asked if she had any handspun hat or sweater kits for Rhinebeck. She's fabulous spinner and knitter and puts her handsome sons on the pattern. The crowd waned and soon it was time to pack up. Kimmie Cornerstone is a fabulous teamster and packer and I was ready to go in no time. We checked the map to make sure we were headed for the Thruway and set off, back to Ontario and Brookfield. I was rolling merrily along when I felt some shaking and shuddering. People started pulling up alongside me and gesticulating frantically. My cargo trailer tire had blown and I was on the rim. Having no cell phone I kept going the two miles to the service area. I dragged my trailer up to the gas station and and went inside. The not-so-friendly attendant told me I couldn't use my AAA on the NY State Thruway and that I would have to call the Thruway Authority with my cell phone for help. I said I didn't have a cell phone. He reluctantly used his phone to call for a service truck. I asked if I could call my husband and he said no way! I waited outside for half an hour or so and here he comes with a big tow truck. It took the guy 10 minutes or less to put the spare on and collect the SEVENTY -FIVE dollars from me. Suffice it to say I was not amused. Worse was the reaction of said husband when he saw the rim around the tire well was off. The word ballistic comes to mind. He wanted to know why I didn't back-track on the thruway to find the rim. No kidding. Not a happy home coming. I said I anticipated this response from him and I was not surprised. I couldn't help but think of the caring, concerned, relieved reaction I gave him when he totalled my car with the deer. But then there's the Mars and Venus thing to consider. So it was reality bites big time Sunday night. Back to the salt mines today, and out to find a car after school. The two places he sent me to near here were so sleazy I didn't want to get out of the rented car, which is going kaching, kaching every tiime I get in it. I have to find something soon or I will be in deep doo-doo. I'm going to look at a used mini-van which would enable me to put a pared down show set up in it without having to hook up a trailer. I figure I don't have to have a big sign with long posts and big tables. I can buy folding tables and have a little sign, skip the shaving blocks and carry less wool roving. Then I won't have to bother Beasty Boy to hook up the trailer, and just go when I need to. Self-sufficiency is the way to go.