This weekend, I took some time off editing to hang out with my family. We all bundled off to the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival because when you have the chance to pet a Jacob’s Sheep or an angora bunny, you take that chance. Seriously, you guys, so soft and adorable!
My mom and I always love seeing the sheep (she was a Future Farmer of America, back in the day. You know what they say about the best-laid plans and all that.) and I’ve been a knitter, spinner, and weaver since… for as long as I can remember actually. I can crochet, too, but somehow I never got as hooked on it. So we love wandering around the festival when we can get out to it. All that fiber! All that yarn! All those amazing projects and beautiful craftsmanship! Last year it took us a good 4 hours to see a small fraction of the event, and we basically only left because it started sleeting.
The Boy went with us this year. It was super fun to be able to share this with him, and I was looking forward to taking him through the fleece barn and show him around the sheep and the goats and poking around the craft stalls to find some wonderful treasure that was small enough we could take it to Japan in our luggage and not have to pay a million dollars to ship it. We could spend a lazy sort of day mostly outside in the pleasantly not-too-hot weather, and learn maybe a little about how we all end up not wandering around naked all the time.
The Boy, on the other hand, was on a damn mission. He arrowed into the festival and
went straight to the first stall and pointed to the pink yarn like “This one, Mom.” Um… we just got here, sweetie. We can buy some yarn but let’s look around a bit. Finally, he put his foot down and we got a skein of candy pink yarn for him (me…) to make a hat from. Once he had his bag of yarn in hand, he was done with the festival. Mom wants a fun kit to play with? Tough. Gramma wants to see the sheep? Nope, time to go home. There’s a whole main barn we haven’t even reached yet? Meh, who cares, we’re done here. The Boy had his button and his yarn.
Fortunately, there was ice cream available for bribing the kid with, so we did manage to make it through the main barn at least, mostly by carrying the post-growth-spurt first grader piggyback through the thick crowds and now my whole body hates me. Still, the only other things he stopped to look at after his purchase? The biggest spinning wheels he could find.
That’s my boy.