For the first time since I moved back to Tennessee, I had a social engagement today. I went to my old handspinning guild, the Tennessee Valley Handspinners, with my spinning wheel (a mahogany-finished Kromski Symphony, which I lerrrv). I had missed the group so much, but I was worried they'd all forgotten me. Not so!
I paid my $10 yearly dues and bought 4 oz of handdyed (turquoise) wool roving from Barb for $6, which pretty much wiped me out for the day. While I spun up about half the roving, I talked to my old friends Lori and Charlotte and Nancy and Sue and to new members I hadn't yet met.
I remember at one point I was concentrating on my spinning and listening to the talk around the room. To my right Nancy and Patty were discussing Nancy's recent knitting cruise--and neither of them found it odd that when talking about the cruise, there was no mention of swimming or scenery or luxurious spa-type stuff or food; instead, Nancy was telling Patty about a fiendishly difficult skirt pattern they all tried to master while on ship. And to my left, Lori and Carmen were talking about learning to play the harp (handspinners are a clever and talented lot). I heard Barb talking about her sheep nearby, and someone else talking about the Samoyed puppy she was getting. Everywhere I looked, people were busy with their hands: knitting, crocheting, spinning on drop spindles, and of course spinning on wheels, which turned deceptively slowly as the spinners treadled, but if you looked at the bobbins they were flying along. And I thought, damn, why did I ever leave this?
I'm glad to be home in East Tennessee. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home.