But then, already, dealing with the fibers, the yarns, the colors were balm to my wounds, and I did manage to dress up my soul to its best for the day. And the day gave me all that I hoped for and more.
And then, the doors opened, and people came.Some just looked around, some trying to find something to do at a saturday morning.
Others came for the yarns.
It never cease to amaze me, that such a simple tool can turn a handful of fibre into something so wonderful. That people were spinning this way for thousands and thousands of years.
And, that we can use the same simple tool, and still produce something wonderful from a handful of fiber.
Old friends came, and spun.
Girls and boys.
Besides spinning there were other activities, like felting, yarn-dyeing, carding and spinning with a spinning wheel, even sheep shearing at a point, but I never got to see them.
Kriszti, who helped me with everything, from skeining the yarns, trough scrub the dye of my table, to packing up the whole sheebang, and keeping the front while I was trying to show the wonders of drop spindling.
Zsóka, who is one of the organizers, and was busy all day with the carder.