Sheep and Wool, Part 2

In which we actually go to the Sheep and Wool festival.

We got up all bright and early and, eschewing a wholesome breakfast in favor of delicious bagels (vacation is carte blanche for that). The first year we went, it rained. A lot. It was wet, but uncrowded. Surprise win! The next year, it was very, very hot. I discovered how many ounces of lemonade I could drink without needing to use the restroom, and had fun anyway.

This year was pretty perfect. 70 degrees, sunny, amazing. Unfortunately, everyone else thought so, too. This is the parking lot, before it even filled up all the way:

The crowd bravely marched onwards, undeterred.

Onward!

And yet still quite silly. (That never changes.)

Loads of people, presumably from those cars. Or else they were spontaneously generated, which seems unlikely.

One of the few photos of me from the weekend (I like being behing the camera).

Wow! That sounds fun! And a little creepy! And I don’t eat lamb!

I wanted this rug, but it was waaaaaaay outside of my budget. I have plans to replicate it.

This was a silly frenzy of photographing. Yes, each other. With cameras. I started it!

Yay, Alpaca! He was all sort of head-bobby and forward, and I was all like, “oh, how nice, he wants to be friends,” and then was told that this is what alpacas do when they’re upset and about to spit. I walked away.

He was like a muppet! An angry, spitting muppet.

I wandered around in the very crowded main barn, and bought some bindis on a whim. Meanwhile, everyone else had assembled for lunch. D and B were gracious enough to wear them (D was the only guy! Brave D!).

A very creative landscaping solution outside the pit beef/turkey/ham booth.

And then there were the eclairs:

Yum. This happens every year.

We did actually look at some sheep, too.

A ewe.

A ram.

Rams and ewes, being all flirty through the fence. It was really cute.

I tried on a silly hat:

(Jennie took the camera for this one.)

Then we took a break and watched the sheepdogs.

Run, sheep, run!

The dog was very intense.

In the meantime, Jennie got bored.

Which meant that H got a really swell tattoo. And then Jennie took a nap.

So blah blah blah stuff happened, we made a beeline to the Sanguine Gryphon booth, having searched in vain for it the previous two years, and bought some Bugga, direct from the source. YES. And then my friend Aamba (who I had only ever communicated with online previously) came to meet me, and we wandered about for a little while before I had to leave. I attempted to help her buy yarn, but her self-control is far better than mine. I also forgot to take her photo, so that will have to wait for later.

So then we left and had dinner at our usual place, the bottomless, mix-it-yourself Mongolian barbecue. I suddenly recalled how dehydrated I had been the last time, and was very grateful for the nice weather this year. As it was, we ate a lot, mine being doctored quite generously with this:

Sriracha! Yum.

At H’s house that evening, D played his concertina for us. He isn’t… terrible, although his wife would probably argue with that (she’s had to listen to him a lot more than we have).

Jennie and I drove to Baltimore to stay with family, and I saw these guys:

Wonder Husband in his oh-so-stylish eagle shirt.

Uncle Pirate! Hi, Uncle Pirate. Goodnight, Uncle Pirate.

Part 3 to come soon…

About HappyGoth

By day, I'm a graphic designer. By night, I'm a knitter. I'm doing my part to keep Hotlanta stylish. I imagine that if you don't already understand the title of the blog, you're probably confused and perhaps slightly annoyed, but never fear - I do have a reason (and it's a good one). Having gone to hear Stephanie Pearl McPhee, and then having been inspired to blog about knitting, I found myself wondering what to call the blog. I recalled a conversation I had with Mouse and the Chicken Goddess about why it is a Bad Idea to anger knitters - this conversation was following SPM, aka the Yarn Harlot telling the assembled throng about Those Who Do Not Understand Knitting and Therefore Belittle It Much to the Chagrin of Others, or TWDNUKTBMCO, which is not the acronym she used but is the one I'm using because I forgot hers - that is, we are numerous and we all have very pointy sticks, easily transforming into an angry mob. Therefore, knitters = angry mob.
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5 Responses to Sheep and Wool, Part 2

  1. Sarojini says:

    That alpaca has the best hairstyle, ever.

  2. mouse says:

    Wow.. I can’t believe you made that drive to MDSW from GA— I did that one year & will NEVER do it again. Your braids make me wish that I hadn’t dreaded my hair- my hair was almost at my waist 2 years ago. I about died laughing to find that you had managed to buy bindis at a wool & fiber fest- you must have radar. Love your keffiyeh- I have a collection of them (I’m looking for a purple & black one which makes my husband roll his eyes at me every time I mention it…) from the military supply shops.

    • HappyGoth says:

      Third year in a row! It’s a girls’ road trip thing. I love the Blue Ridge mountains, so it’s worth it.

    • HappyGoth says:

      Oh! And the keffiyeh is a hipster keffiyeh – it’s got skulls on it. It kinda hurts my soul to wear it, but it’s very stylish! (I’ve got mad bindi radar. And sari radar. And dosa radar. Pretty much just generic desi radar.)

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