up with figs, alas, poor Lothario
qotd, damn straight

did not recite one naughty limerick

I've been meaning to recap my trip to Pawtucket for the Slater Mill Knitting Weekend, where I was Friday night's keynote speaker -- but keep getting distracted by shiny things and children (and a job) with demands. As one does.

So -- the short version: it was lovely. The Slater Mill audience laughed in all the right places and asked questions that were full of insight. Afterwards, many of the assembled knitters had such kind words for me that I will now insist that all places I speak have free-flowing wine before, during, and after the event.*

Then, I crashed into my Comfort Inn bed like a mighty writer who crashes after the event. 

The Mill by daylight could not be more scenic.



The yellowish building is the main building. And what you can't tell is that those picturesque ducks are likely frozen to the river. There is no cold like a New England cold, which made itself known over the weekend.



So many lovelies, some of which I took home. Like this Fiddlehead mitten kit from Foxfire:


And this scarf in potentia from my new favorite Quebecois dyer Julie Asselin:


The picture doesn't even come close to doing the colors justice. 

All in all, a great weekend. My heartfelt thanks go to organizers (and generally kick-ass women) Mary Lee Partington, Ruth Sunn, and Lori Urso for all of their enthusiasm and smarts. If you're in the area, drop in. Slater Mill is a wonder for anyone with even the slightest interest in how fabric used to be made.

Other recaps (with better pictures) are here and here, btw.


* I read this piece about Elizabeth Zimmermann and selected parts of Sweater Quest. For those at the event, a picture of my grandmother and her mother:



"We're un-venting centuries of being told who we are and what we should be but haven't yet hit on the elegant solution." Yes! Yes! Yes! And still, your article left me wanting much more along the same lines. Is it coming?

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