After Rhinebeck

Ultimately, the Sheep and Wool festival drew to a close.  We stragglers were like a bunch of bar flies at closing time:  "You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."  This is the formerly-swamped entrance, with the last few hangers-on, including me.  Notice the fella there in the kilt - he just happened to wanter into my parting photo.  Sorta poetic, no?

We took in some sights the following day, including a wee little country place the Vanderbilts built during the Gilded Age, at Hyde Park.

The front yard of the Vanderbilt Estate at Hyde Park is the Hudson River.  And some really peepy leaves, as it happens:

Passable view, for a country place:

I looked into the water, thought things over, and declared my pilgrimage East a success.

All this and knitting, too.  Bliss, baby, Bliss.

My Swell New Pal, The Dutchess

The New York Sheep and Wool Festival, casually known to knitters and other fiber fools as "Rhinebeck" is held in Dutchess County, New York.  The actual Dutchess it was named for, Mary of Modena, was consort to King James II of England.  It sure was nice of the colonists to name this region after her.  Maybe they did it because it's beautiful, like her. I hope she liked sheep.  Either way, I was delighted to learn that the real Dutchess of Dutchess County was a Mary, too.

Mary of Modena (Mary Beatrice Eleanor Anne Margaret Isabel; born Este; later Queen Mary of England, Scotland and Ireland; 5 October 1658 – 7 May 1718) was queen consort to James II of England. Her reign as consort lasted from 6 February 1685 until 11 December 1688. Mary was crowned Queen consort on 23 April 1685.

In the shade of 100-year-old hardwood trees, the Dutchess County Fairgrounds are completely civilized.  In addition to all the fibery goodness there is to covet and buy, you can eat and drink everything here, from Artichokes to Zinfandel.

Here a historical interpreter introduces a smally to his first sheep.  Both were pleased to meet one another.

Sheep farmers are a rare breed.  One of them staggered up to have her book signed, exhausted after NINE lambs were born to her flock the night before.

I met small knitters.

And not-so-small knitters.

I had the best of all possible worlds:  Indoors, where it was not bitter cold, and meeting knitters, who are big fun in all shapes.

Some knitters think that stranded colorwork is difficult, because it looks complicated.  I talked quite a few down from the ledge.

Here are Lori and Karen of Homestead Heirlooms.  They make the most gorgeous straps and findings to complete your handmade totes and purses.  Everyone should go immediately to their website and buy everything they have, because they are also delightful and generous ladies who are gifted at what they do.

Before leaving, I ran into Casey and Jess.  I thanked them for making Ravelry.

Like a pioneer in reverse, I traveled from West to East.  My pilgrimage led me to sights and sounds I could only have imagined.  The sheep were great, and so was the wool.  But the knitters, as always, were the most delightful of all.  I think the Dutchess would be pleased.
 

Hands to Work, Hearts to God

I have hatched a new way to quantify the actual time and space of traveling between these States United.  I call it B to B:  Bed to Bed.  I left one bed in Fairview, Oregon at some variation of One Million O'Clock in the morning (okay, it was 5 AM), and I face-planted in my destination bed in Albany, New York at 12:30 AM.  Yes, there were one or two time changes in there, so I relied on my watch and my rudimentary math skills to determine that the actual B to B was 15.5 hours, which in human time = 4 airplanes, 3 peanut snacks, 2 loud talkers, and 1 airport beer.  I figured we'd earned it.  And a fine beer it was.  And when I say WE, I refer to my crazy-useful publicist and sometime Sister, the indomitable Susie (also a Dreadful Damsel).  Susie came with me because of:

        1.  I require constant supervision
        2.  She wanted a crash course in all things fiber (Hello? Rhinebeck?)
        3.  I promised her Beer

On our first morning, we stumbled into the town of Colonie, home of Ann Lee, which is also America's first Shaker settlement.  Due to the heroic efforts of the Shaker Heritage Society, the settlement, and its treasures of history, art and humanity have all outlived their congregation.

Here is the Official Society Cat, William, with Susie.

The Shakers were masters of organization and utility.  Need to get those chairs out of the way so you can dance?  Hang 'em high!  I'm still trying to figure out the basics of floor space vs. fiber stash.  Mother Ann could probably have helped.

I have long wished for a shaker box of my own.  Temptation, thy name is Copper Rivet.

And in case you were wondering, yes, there were leaves, and yes, we did peep.  To wit:

More fun than this has not been had at Mother Ann's joint since she was here herself.  Lucky for me, the gift shop didn't have any reproduction furniture for sale (I'd have tied a dining set to the top of a plane, for sure), and good thing the cat wasn't interested in joining us on the road.

If you have ever thought to yourself, "You know, I should really share the bounty of my good life with some people whose cause is worthy.  To whom should I send my generous cash donation?"  Here is your answer.  This history is important and beautiful, so I encourage you to give till it hurts.  Or at least order up a beautiful shaker box.