Woolthing

When I was a child we rarely went places.  We went to school of course and we went to visit our cousins a few times a year.  And we went to church.  That was all standard and not terribly exciting.  We were farm kids so walking to a store didn’t happen.

In my parents defense, I don’t blame them.  With nine children in tow it was a bit of a challenge to take us anywhere.  It was in fact a major undertaking.  One of us got forgotten once when we all went shopping together.  It wasn’t realized till we got home.  My mom was very careful and a superwoman but that one time she counted one of us twice and a small quiet one got separated from the rest and …   It ended fine and the lost one was found.  Dad made a quick trip back to town to get her and all was well, except for the emotional scars, but we all have those.

What I wished for was to go to the local fair with enough money to have some fun.  My mom thought this was a silly waste of money.  There would be nothing to show for it when all was said and done.  A bit of excitement, a laugh or two and then what.  Money down the drain.  It wasn’t  till we were earning enough of our own money that we went.  I don’t remember it all that well, but for a few rides that increased the level of  adrenaline in my body from fear.  I think we went a few times and then the thrill was gone.

This all came back to me as hubby and I went for a walk to the quay where they were having FraserFest.  There were rides for the kids and tables selling stuff, a cacophony of sound and people.  It made me think that there isn’t much at these fairs that change.  The same calls from the tables try to entice us to buy things we don’t need and the same rides are there to excite us, but when all is said and done there is nothing new, and when you come home from the fair you still have nothing to show for it.  I am so becoming my mother.

Today I spent a couple of hours at “Fair in the Square” spinning in public.  It’s always fun because people are generally fascinated with the spinning wheel.   I spun and chatted while spinning for almost an hour and got about an ounce of fine yarn on my bobbin.  It was then the circus performers finished and one of the races finished and I ended up with a few children watching me.

It was then that one brave lad asked if he could try it.  And what could I do but let him.  I let him treadle for a while and then he gave it a shot.  His first yarn was better than my first yarn and I let him know it.

After that I had a row of children from under two years old to ten years old wanting to give it a try.  It was great fun.  Some of them just treadled while I drafted the yarn and few got to try a bit of drafting.  They all went away with the yarn they had made.  It was hard getting away as if there was a child who wanted to try I felt I had to let them.  But eventually there were no more children standing in line and I beat a hasty retreat.  My family was waiting for me.

Who knows, maybe one or more of those children will become a spinner.

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