Spindle Camp or Bust

I've been trying to get ready for Spindle Camp ever since I got home from the conference on Sunday.  I prepared these bats yesterday.  I have a feeling that I'm going to run out of spinning before Sunday, so I'm taking a basket of knitting too.

And I finished these towels yesterday.  We have a little market of sorts and I wanted to have these ready for sale.

I always take soap for our little market, but this is all I have ready for sale, so when I went into town today to pick up our CSA box, I went by the artists coop, thinking I could pick up the bars that have these labels.  I have a box of soap there with rock art labels, but I'm way off.  The rock art show is next month.  That means I'll be labeling soap in the morning, but there has to come a point when you say - enough.  I did enough for today.  I made chili this morning for the potluck and it's in double freezer bags tonight, going into the ice chest tomorrow.  I made meatloaf for our dinner so I can have it cold for sandwiches.  Enough.

This is a quick shot of our CSA box.  I cooked the beet and turnip greens up to accompany the meatloaf.  Until we started in the CSA program, I shunned greens and I have no idea why.  They are delicious.  The two vague baggies are lettuce greens and that totally changes up my food plans.  I need to take advantage of their short life and pack them somehow. 

I just checked the weather and nothing has changed.  It's going to be a firecracker hot weekend, just like last year only worse.  Look for me deadman floating in Lake Francis in the purple bathing suit.

Going Home

I love the Yuba River. They tell me that deep Persian blue color is because of a natural occurring mineral. I say "natural" since there were so many chemicals introduced during the mining years. I put on a sweater and drove home with my windows down so I could hear it.

Even the road cuts are inter-
esting. If you click for big, you can see all the wild flowers that have found purchase in rock crevices.

Highway 49 follows the river and so is equally windy. There are plenty of warning signs and when the curve is really tight, you get an extra warning sign. Watch out for prancing deer is what we call this sign.
I came around a corner and found the road otherwise occupied, so slowed and stopped. I've never hit a deer but I've heard enough stories from those who have. I waited until they cleared the road and one obliged my camera with a cameo on the bank.
I got to the summit of Yuba Pass, elevation 6,701 feet, and thought this was too ironic to pass up. There is still a snow pack, and in some places especially along the stream beds, it's 4 feet. And here are bicyclists clamoring to enjoy a weekend without rain and with dry roads.
After the pass, I crossed into the Eastern Sierras, and I have never not once in all the years I've lived here, stopped at the vista point. I had stopped so many times already, and so I stopped again. This is Sierra Valley, and the mountain in the right distance is Peterson. It's the view from our living room, but looking at the east side of it. It's a pretty ginormous view.
And since I had already pulled Eleanor over more times than I'm willing to let on, I stopped to catch this. It's on the corner of 49, where I turn left for 89 and Sattley. . This defunct sawdust mill has been just like this since I first came in 1968 and it's a memory - don't know why. I guess because it's always been there.
A number of years ago I was at a local water color show and found this piece by Larry Jacox. I never have spending money but I showed the painting to Ian, and we now have it hanging in the hall. It was just titled Yuba River and I think he nailed it. It means a lot to me to have this little piece of the place I love right here in our house.

Spindle Camp III

Susan Prince used to be a fund raiser for KVIE, a PBS affiliate in Sacra-
mento, and so took it upon herself to see what freebies she could roust up for we campers, and it turns out - a lot! We drew for winners and there was something for everyone.
This was the crowning jewel in the SWAG, which I learned stands for "stuff we all get." In all the years I participated in 10K fun runs and got SWAG bags, I never knew why we called it that. Susan knew!
Golding sent this gorgeous spindle, which is worth more than $100. There were at least a dozen Golding spindles present and I know of one ordered by phone from the campsite. I tested it and it does spin better than mine. I didn't win this and I am still thinking about ordering one.
My BFF Barbara Sue got this goodie bag, which was the next coolest prize after the spindle. It was filled with goodies.
This is my lucky ticket - BFL and tussah silk top from Miss Babs. I've never heard of her - none of us but Susan Prince had. She's from Mountain City, TN and was crazy in her generosity. I hope she's safe in the tornadoes. The ticket was drawn for me, but I love these colors!
Melissa and I had been planning this trip since last year and then she got sick - too late for a refund. However, I am bringing back her SWAG from Lisa Souza in Placerville, CA, also crazy generous. This is merino, tussah silk and bamboo and I just couldn't get my camera catch the opalescent colors of this roving. It's going to make beautiful lace weight yarn.

Potluck dinner was followed by roasting peeps for s'mores. I was a spectator.

It's camp. Did you really think we'd go to bed when it got dark. Someone got Lindsey to tell Sven and Ole jokes (from Prairie Home Companion). I Googled them so in between the ones people remember read a couple from my phone like this one:

Sven was going for his morning walk one day when he
walked past Ole's house and saw a sign that said
"Boat For Sale." This confused Sven because he knew
that Ole didn't own a boat, so he finally decided to go
in and ask Ole about it.

"Hey Ole," said Sven, "I noticed da sign in your yard
dat says 'Boat For Sale,' but ya don't even have a boat.
All ya have is your old John Deere tractor and
combine."

Ole replied, "Yup, and they're boat for sale."

I thought I'd be able to wind this up tonight, but just reading about night and stories and going to bed makes me realize how early I have to get up in the morning to get into Reno for my oil change. I'm so sorry. I shall torment you with one more episode and then you will be spared.

Spindle Camp II

Because of the tremen-
dous rains last year, we set up two large EasyUps and lashed them together. In the morning, it appeared to be overkill but the circle grew to take in the entire area and into overflow.
This is the fiber I chose to spin for the weekend and because it's merino, bamboo and silk, I'm spinning lace weight. It's going slow. Sara back there is plying on her drop spindle. She spun more on her spindles this weekend than I did on my wheel and hers is also lace weight. I may have to look into a Golding spindle. I tried one and there's no question that they spin faster and longer.
Are you wondering if anyone brought a non-
Lendrum wheel? It was a heavy favorite. A magazine article is in the making so Susan Prince is making notes, and she's reading something back to Sue Flynn.
Susan took hundreds of photos, some for the article but most for us. After she's gleaned through them, she's going to upload them so we can enjoy them online. The center area is silk hankies for sale and prelunch nosh.

It was such a treat to have uninter-
rupted time to visit with Birdsong. Our last visit was last year at the fair and because we were demonstrating at the same time, we mostly demonstrated. The Foothills is still heavily influenced by the hippies movement of the 60s. The general public are interested and full of questions. It's why I drive the five-hour round trip to participate. The experience feeds me.
After I had left for Spindle Camp, I saw a message on my phone from Birdsong that I had won her the drawing on her blog and she would deliver it in person on Friday. This is what I won! Birdsong has studied and teaches permaculture. She took it a step further and created a natural dye business in the form of a CSA (community supported agriculture) called Nature's Cauldron. My loot is this astounding book, 8 ounces of BFL roving and two skeins of alpaca/merino yarn.

Here's the irony. The yarn is from Eva at Juniper Creeks Alpaca fibers, the very same Eva you saw sitting on the deck drinking coffee in my last post and my cabin mate for the weekend. More irony. We were the only ones in the cabin on Thursday, an optional early day, and in getting to know each other discovered that we are both practicing Roman Catholics who also both went to Nazarene colleges. Find another one of us, and you will win a prize!

On My Way Going

The most direct route over the Sierras to Spindle Camp was on Highway 49, as in the 49er gold rush and all that history. It's crazy windy and so not well traveled, but it was a perfect day on Thursday with almost no traffic. The northern terminus of Hwy 49 is just West of us.
I'd say click for big, but instead I'll do it for you. Those aretes are indications of the glacial age that also occurred here. The Great Lakes weren't the only ones to have one, you know.
I got caught in road construc-
tion delays three times so that I didn't get to Downieville until 2:30. This is a gold rush era town that is quaintly preserved thanks to its remote location. It also has no eating establishments opened on week days until the summer.

I ended up buying a dry packaged sandwich at the gas station store with packets of mayo and mustard. I adopted a picnic table on the bank of the confluence of the Yuba and Downie Rivers, spread the dressings on the bread with my finger, and listened to the river and songbirds while I ate. I could have done worse I realized.
How small is Downieville you might ask. This single lane bridge that spans the Downie River is Highway 49. If it were to go out, "none shall pass." Quick - what movie is that from???

I'm disappointed to realize that I didn't take a single picture of Thursday night. We were a small group of eight for dinner. I realized Thursday morning while I was packing that I didn't have anything for dinner and that I wasn't going to be passing any stores. I decided to throw together a quiche using the baby asparagus and oyster mushrooms.from our CSA basket from the day before. I almost think quiche is cheating because it's so easy and people are so impressed. We tossed all our foods together Thursday evening and I got raves. It's the best say to cheat. Sue brought lamb chops from her own lambs. She sat in the circle with us while they cooked in her camper, when suddenly the pan and chops flew out the door as if she had a poltergeist. I guess that happens when the camper isn't quite leveled. It's am image I won't soon forget.

Eva and I were the only ones in our cabin that evening. We sat up and talked until 11:30 that night and then more enjoyed more conversation on the deck with coffee the next morning. It turns out she's an alpaca breeder and a friend of our neighbors Jeanette and Kaye. And I think I'm going to be one of their alpaca fleece judges this year. I'm not sure. Mim handles it and gives me my samples at some point. It's a small world and we called Jeanette to let her laugh about it with us.

Spindle Camp

I spent an extra 30 minutes this morning spinning. It's been so dreary that I was happy to have an extra 30 minutes with my "grow" light. I wanted empty bobbins to take to Spindle Camp. I've waited all year for this to come and so think I win on all counts. I have finished yarn for hat kits and three empty bobbins. I know it's Spindle Camp and I'm also also taking spindles.

Most of the folks live not too far from the campground. Since I'm coming from the other side of the Sierras, I've deliberated on what I could bring to the potluck Friday night that would also travel well. I decided on ye old potato salad. I've just received a sample magazine called Cooks Illustrated. I've received samples of things over the years so I almost pitched this in the trash. I don't know what held me up, but I've discovered this is a tiny magazine that needs to be read from front to back, every word. It's not so much recipes, but why things cook up like they do.

Anyway, potato salad - they evaluated different potatoes and determined that russets have weaker cell wall structure and break down sooner, thus are more able to absorb the vinegar in the dressing. Their recipe suggested the cubed potatoes come to a boil, salt the water, and then cook another 8 minutes. Their dressing includes pickle relish. Really?? And yeah, I've sent them my check.
I've finished tying and trimming fringe. These place mats are ready for adoption. I'm starting realize that the craft fair world is going to mean dealing with rejection. Just because I love what I made for our table doesn't mean that someone else won't think this is perfect. I'm not going into therapy over this, until I run out of storage space. But for now, I have these seriously lovely place mats, perfect for the perfect Western table.
The dining room table has become my staging area. I have a list and I'm also putting things here as I think of them, and in foreground in it's pack, is the spinning wheel. Missing are the sleeping bag and pillow. I'm a terrible girl scout but by lunch tomorrow, I will heap up this space and pile it into my car.

We have had such an unusual spring at this point. I know the weather records don't go back all that far, so I don't know if this wet pattern has presidence. We got another squall late this afternoon. What is normal anymore?
I got an email from Lauren today. She's started her students on backstrap weaving. I remember this student as one who was totally focused on my class presentation.

Spindle Camp

The first annual Trans-Sierra Spindle Camp kicked off late Friday afternoon at Lake Francis, as we straggled in from all over the region. The setting was a gamble because we knew so little about it, but we have wanted to do this for a such a long time and decided to stick our necks out and give it a try - it's a winner, with qualifiers, not included.

Amy is a queen spindler and also collector of spindles, so we coaxed her into a show-and-tell. The absolute favorite of the whole group is the Golding ring spindles - want one. Ken Lendbetter's were also popular, followed by a mixed smattering of Greensleeves and Hatchtown.
We ate potluck while mega-
visiting and then stood around a nice wood fire with dessert and glasses, camp mugs, or canning jelly jar of red wine. The end of a work week for many, we folded early and the day trippers returned home. Day One.
The neat thing about the open space and camping is that little groups formed spontan-
eously and morphed continuously. It was like round-robin friends and fiber - they go together so well. Barbara Sue has her back to me and I'm sorry I didn't catch her marvelous hat with giant braids that mimic her own thick dark ones.
The subtitle, and I can't think of a clever one, would have been foodies. The table is a gathering point of adoration, and it was so laden that a secondary table was called into service. Notice the giant Easy-Up - very important.

Here's another group of spinning and visiting. I didn't manage to catch anyone drop spindling and there was plenty of it - asleep at the switch. I was one of those who spindled, and it was part of what made the groups so easy to change up, walkabout. The afternoon was lovely and most of us walked to the camp resort restaurant for dinner at 6:00 rather than cook.
And while we were eating a stupen-
dous dinner (the cold leftover part was my breakfast today), the rain began to fall, and fall, and fall. We knew we couldn't get dry and warm if we walked back, and so we waited, and every diner that left the restaurant Barbara Sue asked- excuse me. Is that your van? All were sympathetic but one lady offered to help and took Jan back to camp and to her car. Jan then ferried us back in stints - no small deal since the campground is a labyrinth of paths, so much that even we were afraid of straying too far and not finding our way back.

Meanwhile, those few who remained back at the camp gathered all the scattered equipment, chairs and personal items under that blessed salvation called Easy-Up - it was a huge task and they were wonderful. It was like someone poked a knife into a sky bladder. Remember, I live in the high desert and that's what I know. Maybe this rain is normal elsewhere. We profusely thanked those who took care of our precious items. Day two.

Virva and I bookend this morning grouping with Sarah and Marty. Virvia is Finnish and a slip of a thing, but man, oh man, can she camp.

We ended up being the only tent campers the second night - other others opted to rent a resort cabin and a good idea in a drenching torrent. We awoke to find ourselves alone - kinda surreal. Virva built a fire and we set about making caffeine. She might be the smallest, but you want her on your team, at least I do. I dibs Virva.

This is just about half the frosh alumi. Rain, heck. We will be back next year and we spent the morning today looking for the sites we want next year. The resort is awesome because they offer a mix of tent sites and cabins. It might not rain next year, and even if it does, we'll just bring more Easy-Ups.

Still Not a Rug

After several email exchanges yesterday, I ended up talking to Hilary last night. She was confused by my long warp floats, but one in particular was begging trouble. Do you see the error? There's an area where the warp floats over five wefts. She felt that once removed from the warp tension, this would buckle up and be a trip hazard.

I work up this morning, knowing that she was right. It didn't take long to pull out the weft to that point, and while I was at it, I removed everything, even the header. I had used a single shot of the 8/4 cotton for the header. She said she preferred two shots of the 8/4 cotton warp yarn, and she's made a convert here. What a difference it made. I knew the other would draw in and I was miserable. I am very pleased though I can't show you because I forgot to take a picture.
I've opted out of fringe and am hemming instead. I've read several places that knotted fringe wears terribly, and within a short time, there's no fringe at all. I know this to be true since our Mexican rug lost quite a bit of its fringe in one year on the floor. One day I came into my studio to find that Ian had thumb-tacked it to the wall.

I have a shuttle that holds two bobbins so trotted over the guest room to get it from that weaving bench and found this interloper on my drying Shetland locks. Note to self - bag locks when cat awakes.
I woefully under-
estimated the strips I would need, so instead of finishing today with a rug, I finished today with sewing more strips. I'd love to get enough out of this warp for a runner behind the sofa.

Exsqueeze me. Am I bothering you? You are bothering me!
Here's where I am now and I think I have another yard of warp left yet. You weavers who keep records, I wish I were you because then I'd know where I am. Even so, I cannot begin to tell you how much fun this project has been, in spite of ripping out to the beginning and all my angst. I'm so happy that we need at least five more rugs in our house.
I sewed strips while I waited for quiche to bake and I wound them into balls while we watched a tivoed session of Treme tonight (HBO).

I'm leaving in the morning for a camping spindle retreat and the quiche is for the potluck tomorrow night. We're sure to get rained on. I have lists and piles everywhere. I'm meeting our guild president Virva in Truckee, and Diane Soucy is hosting my car for the weekend. If I forget something, I'm outta luck. It's a weird feeling to have no car and no computer. Retreat.