Aftermath

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air, where a mailbox should be
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That mailbox is two doors down from me. I don't know those neighbors, but I think they're renters - that house tends to have a high turnover. They seem like they might be decent enough people, though -- they've got a lot of Christmas decorations (garlands, wreaths, lighted deer, etc.) around their house.

If any locals happened to catch the Channel 6 11 o'clock news last night, the report that was "live, on-scene", (which was a lie, that was taped probably a half-hour earlier than it was aired), that reporter was standing on the edge of my yard, and my (intact) mailbox was in the shot. The cops and the bomb squad eventually left around 11.

I think the general consensus is that the mailbox bombing was random and probably the work of some bored teenagers. Of course I now eye suspiciously every car that drives down my street.

My brother-in-law, an attorney and college professor and dean, suggested last night that during the midst of it all, I should run out of my house towards the cops, with my television remote in hand, yelling, "I've got the remote! I've got the remote!", and see what happens. Sage advice from the family legal expert.

The ironic part of it all is that I forgot to check my mail yesterday afternoon, and today, after very carefully opening my mailbox with a long tree branch, there was a package in there. (I knew it was in there last night, and it was killing me that I couldn't go out and get it.) I wonder what would have happened if I had tried to check my mail while the cops were still there, and then pulled a package out of my mailbox? Think I would have been tackled?

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Signs it might be time to move to the county....

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So, this afternoon, I heard what I thought was a really, REALLY loud backfire in my neighborhood. Looked outside, didn't see anything. Thought, hmmmm, wonder what that was? And went about my business.

Pretty soon, one, then two, then three, then four firetrucks show up. Cop cars block off both ends of my street. News trucks arrive. I thought, okay, maybe a neighbor had a small fire -- a gas heater blew up or something. I hadn't seen smoke, but there are a few streets back in there that aren't readily visible from my front porch. The firetrucks left, but the cops are still here, like six hours later. This is something bigger.

Curiousity got the better of me and I finally walked out to the cop that's been in front of my house for six hours (he must have to pee like a racehorse by now!), and asked him what was going on. I'm not able to discuss that, ma'am. A-ha! It is something big. One of the news trucks was Channel 6. Flipped the channel -- nothing yet on the news. So I went to their website, and found this.

Yes, when the bomb squad is parked in your yard and the local news is broadcasting in front of your house, it just might be a sign that it's time to move out of the city.

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Rest in Peace, Uncle Cliff

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I can't believe we're back here again so soon, saying goodbye to another of my mom's siblings, less than three months since Aunt Kathie died. Uncle Cliff, my mom's youngest brother, and my godfather, died suddenly yesterday, at the age of 73, in his hometown in Nebraska.

Uncle Cliff, in 2006
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We knew he was being treated for cancer, and we knew that he was suffering similar Alzheimer's symptoms like my mom, but this was still unexpected. My cousin Sarah, one of Cliff's six children, called my dad yesterday, but gave very few details, (and my dad is terrible about extracting important details about major life events. Typical man.)

I asked dad if Sarah seemed like she would be open to hearing from a Richmond cousin, and he said yes, so I called and left her a message, and got choked up and sounded like a complete idiot -- not the first impression I wanted to leave with a cousin I'd never spoken with before, especially as I was calling to offer help and comfort, not cry in her ear. Tonight I had a better hold on my emotions and left a more "together" message for her.

So, we don't yet know anything about funeral arrangements, or if my parents can attend. My dad is currently undergoing daily radiation for his prostate CA, so it is doubtful that they'll be able to go. My mom was told the news yesterday, but according to my dad, seems to have already forgotten about it. I'm toying with the idea of going myself, although I haven't ever been to Nebraska nor met these cousins - we've only emailed. I imagine with the six cousins and their spouses, they may have things under control, but part of me feels like there should be a representative from the Richmond contingent present at Cliff's funeral; someone who can also pay their respects at Kathie's grave, as well as Uncle Mick's (mom's other brother who passed away about a decade ago), and our grandparents' graves. Someone who can mourn for her siblings in place of my mother, whose failing memory won't allow for that. Not sure if it's realistic for me to make such a trip, but it might be do-able. We shall see....


The last time I saw Uncle Cliff was around 1998 or thereabouts, when he came to Richmond and stayed with my parents. I was taking a COBOL class at the time, and since Cliff was an old-time COBOL programmer, he helped me with a particularly difficult programming assignment. I'll always remember him fondly for that. But more than that, he's always been my godfather, which gives him a special place in my heart.

I do think it is merciful, his passing so quickly, even as hard as it is on his kids. Better this than a long-suffering illness.

Here's a picture of my mother and her siblings, back in the 1940's:

Front (L-R): Cliff & Mick
Back (L-R): Kathie & mom
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It's hard to believe that my mom, the eldest, is the last of her generation in that family. My dad, too -- he lost his sister in April.

Time marches on.

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It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas...

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...everywhere you go....


The holly is mine, but that's my neighbor's house across the street. Pretty much identical to mine, except mine is white and doesn't have Christmas decor on it. And my roof is newer.

Don't you like how the Christmas lights are reflected in the puddle?

This morning's little "snowstorm" was such a blessing to wake to. All gone by mid-afternoon, of course, but still so sweet, while it lasted. Word is, there's another front on the way. Bring it on!

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Thoughtful

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Mary, Mary, who is quiet, but not contrary.

The blog has been quiet for a couple weeks for a variety of reasons. Probably the main reason being that I just don't have much to show, nor tell. A nine-day trip to beautiful western North Carolina with lots of pretty pictures and fiber content is a hard act to follow, that's for sure, especially when you're back to the old snooze-fest of a routine at home.

I'm knitting, a tiny bit, and drop spindling some, too, but I have no FOs to show, so no blog fodder to share.

In a word -- boring.

But, I've had a lot on my mind. Various and sundry things, about life and family and birthday parties and football and work and fiber and lifestyle and living, all of which seem to be in a quiet state of flux. No major upheavals, as of yet, thank the good Lord.

Very recently, I've been seriously considering a permanent change of scenery.

To something like this:


That's actually the view from the dining room of a home I've been looking at.

Thaaaaat's right -- a lake house.

This house:

a somewhat unassuming exterior
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Here are a couple of aerial shots:

zoomed out to show lake
(house has red X on roof)

zoomed in
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The place has four bedrooms, three bathrooms. (My current home has just one of each.) So... lots more room for yarn. And fiber. And a spinning wheel. And house guests -- imagine that!

Just sayin'.

It's also about 4 miles closer to my parents, which is a good thing, because, let's face it, they're not getting any younger, and the necessity for care-giving is only going to increase.

But, I need to figure out if I can actually afford it. If I should really be considering two-story living as I get older and more decrepit. If I really want to face the painstaking ordeal that is moving. If I want to leave my tiny, crowded, cluttered, but charming and beloved first home of almost 14 years. When I thought of leaving my flower beds, so beautiful in the spring, for someone else to enjoy or tear out, it made me a little emotional -- still does, actually. They represent so much of who I was for the first ten years or so I lived here. I poured myself into them -- heart, soul, spirit, money, labor, blood, sweat and tears. It would be hard to say goodbye to the gardens. And to my skylights, my beloved skylights.

If I decide to move, there will be some mournin' going on.

So, I've got lots more thinkin' to do....

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Happy Thanksgiving

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May you have too many blessings to count.

Count them anyway.

:-)

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Loot

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As promised a week ago, here is some of the loot from my recent foray into western North Carolina, purchased either at SAFF, at the John C. Campbell Folk School craft shop, or somewhere in Asheville:

superwash wool from Brooks Farm's booth at SAFF
(as soft as merino!)
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2 oz. cashmere roving
from The Trading Post's booth @ SAFF
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bottom whorl drop spindle earrings
from Susan's Fiber Shop booth at SAFF
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various books & DVDs
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"Least Ones" - tiny carved animals
from Folk School craft shop
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lovely turned little wooden bowl
from Folk School craft shop
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lapel pin for my friend D. (^ about actual size)
from Folk School craft shop
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guitar earrings for me (^larger than actual size)
from Folk School craft shop
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ceramic teapot whistle - front & back
from Folk School craft shop

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wooden tops - static & spinning
from Folk School craft shop
(Margaret -- pick out your prize!)
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Malabrigo & Koigu purchased at Yarn Paradise in Asheville
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pattern book purchased at Yarn Paradise
specifically for ^this cute pattern
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I also picked up a few cards and postcards from various places, including Yarn Circle down in Murphy, the Folk School craft shop, and from Biltmore's gift shop, but for the life of me, I can't find them right now, so, please just imagine some pretty scenic postcards. :-)

Since I've been home, I've been hotly pursuing some lovely, elusive drop spindles on the internet, and finally made some choices which should arrive sometime this week, I hope. I'll show those here, when they arrive.

An easier choice to make was the purchase of this lovely pencil roving from Crown Mountain Farm which just arrived on Friday, and which I'm itching to try:

colorways (L-R): "As Above So Below", "Plane of Bliss"
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And here's something I didn't realize I already owned, until just the other day:

spinning chair
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I purchased that chair at a neighborhood antique store about five years ago, just because I liked its unique look and thought it would go well in my house, which has a sort of log cabin feel with its pine floors & cabinets, (seen above), pine wainscoting, pine interior doors and, in two rooms, pine & beam ceilings. When I bought the chair, I didn't know the chair's original purpose, or why it had such a funny back.

But sometime in the past week I saw a picture on the internet of a spinning chair, and it all clicked. I said to myself -- "I have one of those!" I'd purchased it back before I'd learned how to knit, back before I had the slightest interest in fiber play of any kind. Interesting, don't you think? It's actually not the real deal, I don't think -- doesn't seem sturdy enough for that. I think it's just a cheap decorative item, but I still like it.

Now I just need a wheel to go with it! But I feel no hurry to leap into such a momentous and expensive purchase. I plan on taking my sweet time and enjoying the process of test-driving wheels at as many places as I can get to over the next year.

And here at home, I need to clear a space for such an item, to make room for another new hobby in my house and in my life. I'm not as bad as that woman on Oprah this week who'd hoarded 75 tons and three tractor-trailer loads full of crap inside her 3,000 sq.ft. house, but I do, (ahem), need to do some purging and organizing (see: missing postcards, above).

So, for now, I will happily make yarn on a drop spindle. :-)

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Farewell to Asheville & western NC

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Apparently, by tomorrow, I actually meant a week from tomorrow, when I said I'd next be blogging about my last day in Asheville in my most recent post. Funny how pesky things like employment interfere with our best laid plans.

Anyway, if you're still with me, I believe I left you with a description of last Saturday in Asheville, which was just lovely. The following Sunday was equally as lovely.

It was the one-and-only day of my 9-day trip where I did not have firm plans in the morning or early afternoon, and knowing that, coupled with the extra hour from daylight savings time, I took full advantage and did not set an alarm Saturday night when I went to bed. Ten hours later, (!), I awoke refreshed and happy to have caught up on some much-needed sleep. I then got a call from my friends and we made plans to meet for brunch at the Boathouse restaurant, in Arden, on Lake Julian.

It has a fairly humble front entrance:

...but no one complained about our view:

Lake Julian

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I had a hearty and delicious brunch of eggs, sausage, and blueberry pancakes. Heaven.

After brunch, we said our goodbyes and parted ways in the restaurant parking lot, and I still had time to hit one more yarn shop before heading to the airport. I drove back to Biltmore Village and visited Yarn Paradise:

and was duly impressed with their vast yarn selection. There were even shelves and shelves of bags of yarn upstairs, in case the choices downstairs weren't enough. I have to admit that my restraint crumbled a bit, and I didn't leave there empty-handed, but came away with a pattern book, some Koigu and some Malabrigo laceweight. I know -- I'm weak.

After my visit to Yarn Paradise, it was time to head on to the airport, and I was able to say a fond farewell, from the air, to the beautiful western North Carolina landscape:


Those smokestacks in the picture are very close to where we ate brunch -- they're part of a power plant that turns the dammed water of Lake Julian into clean kilowatt energy. Gotta like that....

My flights were uneventful, and I made it safely home, with a newfound love for a newly discovered region of North Carolina. I hope to go back soon and often.

I also hope to post, in the near future, a photographic synopsis of the loot acquired on this trip. That is, if folks aren't tired of hearing about it....

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Edited later to add:

Photo slideshow of my time spent in Asheville can be seen here.

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Asheville & Biltmore Estate

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My western North Carolina adventure continued this past weekend in Asheville, NC. Saturday afternoon I drove to downtown Asheville, near the Grove Arcade, and wandered around...

(giant iron appears about to crush street musician)
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...peeking into many cool little shops and galleries, including a Woolworth's that's been converted into an art gallery, yet still retains a Woolworth's lunch counter/soda fountain:


Here's some of the art:

I then found the local gourmet chocolate shop -- Chocolate Fetish, and came away from there with some delicious edible souvenirs, a few of which I've already enjoyed. Yum!

I wandered some more and found the downtown yarn shop:

Purl's Yarn Emporium
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which is very cool. Lots of nice yarns, arranged mainly by color; and they have a daybed in the back of the shop where I would imagine regulars might sit (lay?) and knit. I didn't spend much time (or any money) in there, as shortly after I got there, my cell phone rang, (saved by the bell?), and I was off to meet some friends for a nice lunch of chicken Caesar salad and potato & bacon soup at Carmel's restaurant, a couple blocks away.

After lunch we poked around a few more shops downtown, and I managed to find another yarn shop within the Grove Arcade -- Asheville Home Crafts, (no photo, though), but again, I maintained restraint and left empty-handed. (After all, I can make my own yarn, now, right!) ;-) My friend Maria did buy a cute, hand-knit beret there, however.

Finally, we were off to Biltmore Estate:


to visit the winery:


for a wine tasting:

me, Norma, Catherine, Maria
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We were allowed to sample eight different wines, and I think my favorite of those eight was the "Christmas at Biltmore Rose". Delish. All of their wines were quite nice. If I were driving rather than flying home, I would have purchased a few bottles to take with me. And I just discovered that unfortunately, they don't ship wine to Virginia, but if I want some bad enough, I can have some shipped to my sister in NC. It's also possible that some of the Richmond wine shops carry Biltmore wines. [Edited later to add: My sister informs me that my brother-in-law, a beverage distributor, carries Biltmore wines. I have a source in the family!]

After the wine tasting, we parked down behind the greenhouse so as to walk through their lovely formal gardens on our way up the house, and then went on the candlelight Christmas tour of America's largest home:

As you might imagine, that place is just incredible. More ornate than most cathedrals, I had to keep reminding myself that this 8,000 acre, 25,000 sq.ft, 250-room property was once someone's home. Mind-boggling, for sure. What impressed me, most, room after room, were the fantastic ceilings -- gorgeous, yet different in every room -- some carved, some fabric, and as amazing as the rest of furnishings and decor. The tour was far more extensive than I imagined it would be, and we got to see the Vanderbilt's bedrooms, guest rooms, children's rooms, billiard room, library, sitting rooms, dining rooms, bathrooms, (indoor plumbing in Appalachia at the turn of the 20th century -- unheard of!), servant's quarters, kitchens, pantries, laundry, bowling alley and indoor pool.

The house is still privately owned by the Cecil family, great-grandchildren of George Vanderbilt, and I would think that owning such a legacy is an enormous responsibility. Here's hoping they still get to have the occasional family party there, even as they have graciously shared the place with the rest of the world.

After our lovely candlelight tour, we fumbled our way back to the car in the dark, and drove to Biltmore Village for a wonderful dinner at Rezaz, a Mediterranean restaurant, where I had the osso bucco and a delicious chocolate pot de creme for dessert. A very nice place indeed, and we stayed so long we ended up closing the place, which the staff didn't seem to mind.

Then it was back to my hotel for a sweet night's sleep that included an extra hour, thanks to daylight's savings time. Love this time of year!

Tomorrow, I'll share my Sunday adventures.

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John C. Campbell Folk School - Day 5

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Last day at the folk school, I'm very sad to say. Morning dawned with a blanket of mountain mist over the entire region:



I had to get picture of this road sign, which made me chuckle every time I drove past it:


Apparently, even rural little Brasstown has a rush hour, right at Clay's Corner at the intersection of Brasstown Road and Old Highway 64. I've yet to see it.

Once inside the studio, I had to get a few more pictures of my 2-ply handspun, which I'm pretty proud of:


I then spun up a partial bobbin of my teal roving on the Lendrum, and a second partial bobbin on instructor Annie's single-treadle Ashford Traditional, and I have to say, I really like that Ashford, perhaps as much as the Lendrum.

I then plied the two bobbins together and made this little skein:

I am pleased and proud
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Also this morning, we students gathered secretly in the herb garden next to Davidson Hall, (where our studio is located), and practiced a fiber-related song that Sheri wrote the night before, to be sung to our instructors:

Teachers Annie and Susan were appropriately enthusiastic. :-)

At the end of the day, we set up a display of our wonderful handspun yarns and a few of the beginners' knitting projects up at the Keith House meeting hall, along with displays of other classes' projects. Some lovely things! I took lots of pictures, and will post them out to Flickr and link to them in a later post.

There was also a little concert provided by the bluegrass class, and we got to finally hear the melody that goes along with the thumping bass and foot tapping we'd been hearing through our ceiling all week. Seemed like a fun class.

In fact, all the classes seem like fun, and I absolutely, positively want to come back. More fiber classes, for sure -- I really want to take their next fair isle class. And a few non-fiber-related classes also appeal, including beginning mandolin and calligraphy. I need to pace myself, but boy, I'd love to come back again next year, at least once. I am looking forward to getting their latest catalog, which should be mailed out sometime in the next few weeks.

Tonight I ate one final dinner with my fellow folk school students and instructors, and then reluctantly got in my car and left the beautiful cocoon that is Brasstown and the Folk School, for points northeast. I am now safely nestled in my Asheville hotel, and am verrrry ready to turn out the lamp and go to sleep.

But before I go, I must tell you -- we have a winner! There were quite a few very clever guesses as to what are the actual "stones" in Annie's earrings (photo in Wednesday's post). A few of you came very close, but only one person got it exactly right, and it is Margaret. She guessed that the stones are sheep poo, and she is correct. Dried and varnished sheep poo, if that helps one get over the ick factor. Even varnished, I don't know that I could wear such earrings.

Anyway -- congratulations, Margaret! I'll post a picture for you of the several tops I purchased, and you may have your pick.

Tomorrow -- Biltmore!

G'nite.

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Edited later to add:

Photo slideshow of my week at the John C. Campbell Folk School can be seen here.

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