This weekend here in Eugene is Black Sheep weekend. For long-time readers of this blog, you know what that means: SHEEP. We are fortunate enough to have a wool and fiber festival almost in our backyard, which means it’s a very inexpensive . . . well, we can get there for cheap, at any rate. This year we came home with two gorgeous fleeces for Beth to muck our tub up with, as well as a new, high production drum carder. We spent way too much time in the sun for the fleece sale, alas, and I learned two very important things.
Running out of water is bad business on the second day of summer when one is outside in the sun for two hours, even if one is in Eugene. Also: people are people. Even when they share passions with you, they are still people, and when in a crowd there will be some that you like and some that you wish would just stop talking. Both things I already *knew*, mind you, but it was a reminder.
As was walking around and seeing all the things. I know not everyone involved in fiber arts is interested in living more slowly. I’ve lost sight of that, for me, somewhere in the last few months. How does one live a slower paced life while trying to get a bunch of writing churned out, while working full time, caring for one’s family and garden and leading a fullfilling religious practice? I haven’t figured that out, and still writing is the first thing to get dropped. Am I shooting myself in the foot? Do I *really* want a slow pace with writing? Do I *really* want to be “churning things out”, or is one of these things something I decided I should want? Hrm. Things to ponder.
And I’m crispy!