Saturday was an early start, I stood shivering on the road side with 3 huge containers of yarns and wools waiting for my lift. Himself had manfully carried the tubs out for me and was standing keeping me company while I kept dabbing my eyes. No I wasn't crying, the cold air was making them very watery and a horrible little cold wasn't helping either. I must have looking like a babbling mess as I sneezed and blew my nose, wiped my rheumy red eyes and shivered!
Eventually my lift arrived and my delightfully quirky friend just abandoned her car in the road as she cheerfully plugged her car-tyre pump into a soft wheel. Chatting away loudly over the sound of the car pump we must have made a sizable road block for the early morning bus as it tried to negotiate around us while we loaded my yarns and goodies on the back seat.
We set off - a jolly wave to Himself who retreated back to the house. He was on teenager entertainment duty while I was off to the Wharfe Wool Fair to both sell yarns and to hold a crochet workshop.
Friend and I talked all the way - we don't see each other regularly but when we do we just pick up where we had left off. In fact there was so much chatting to catch up on, we missed the turning off and only realised several miles down the road when we arrived at the wrong town...... never mind, we turned round and chatted all the way back to the correct roundabout!
After a while we arrived at the venue - the Otley Court House, a 19th century Magistrate's court now run as an art centre with a cafe, resource centre and artists studios. As we arrived we decided to go find the organiser - another dear friend of mine, we soon found her looking harassed as she galloped past us. A quick hug and some directions and she was off in a flurry of red hair and turquoise top - apparently an outdoor marquee had tried to take off in the brisk breeze and despite having four adults hanging on to it, there was a moment when they were briefly airborne......so the marquee had been packed away in disgrace and the stall holders who'd been positioned underneath were being re-positioned in the hall - what 'fun'!
With a bit of help from the lovely Mark (a regular fibre fairs attendee with the equally lovely Freyalyn) we were set up. The hall, though small, gave us plenty of space and seemed to be full of stalls with brightly coloured wools and yarns, fleeces and fibre tops and the whole place gave an atmosphere of anticipation.
Two stiff mugs of coffee later we were ready.
The first part of the morning flew by, people coming in as soon as the doors opened. By mid morning I had to abandon our stall as I'd promised to give a crochet workshop so disappeared to set it up. I had toseveral of times gently but firmly remove people from my table and repeatedly and even more firmly rescue the chairs for my workshop attendees from another all-day demonstration.
When my ladies arrived we sat down and chatted about crochet, played with the samples I'd made and talked through the instructions. Then out came the hooks and there was a fair bit of discussion at what colours and what yarns were going to be used.
Then we began.
I am left handed.
They were all right handed.
Guess what!?! By the end of the session I was crocheting RIGHT HANDEDLY (badly) so the ladies could copy what I was doing. I hope they got something from it (other that a lot of laughing). One of the ladies kept sticking her tongue out in concentration while another pair (a mother daughter combo) did nothing but mock bicker and tease each other. By the end....I was finished!
Soon after I vacated our workshop space the guides took it over to make pom poms - they had to stand - the all day demonstration group had swooped in and taken all the chairs!
I spent the rest of the afternoon back at our stall with my dear dotty friend chatting with a steady stream of visitors, drinking mugs of tea (why do you get so dehydrated at places like these?) We were so very ready to go by the end of the day - we were all talked out!
As we drove back the heavens opened and the rain just lashed it down. The conversation on the way home was more sporadic - think we must have caught up will our news. I did -Himself is delighted - come home with very very much less than I took with me!
My only regret? I chose not to take my camera. I didn't have much time, but I would have loved to get a few photos - never mind, I will have to just refer to the images in my head :)
Then, to cap off this hectic day - I sat down with my three boys and we just reveled in the kitch and delight that is the Eurovision - Go Conchita!