Did You Hear Something?

This year, for the first time, I made it to NHS&W. It's quite a bit bigger than MA or Fiber Frolic, quite a bit smaller than Rhinebeck (thank goodness: Rhinebeck puts me into sensory overload for days, not that this is any reason to stay away). I went up with Ruth and Lynne, and I saw Kristen and Cate and Chris and Maryse, traveling incognita, and I met Wanda and Cynthia and... and... tons of friends old and new.


Bloggers in the wild.


There was yarn and fiber in many, many colors.


There was even a fleece with my name on it. I didn't buy it, though. Don't shoot me: the staple was very short, and I wasn't sure I could do it justice.

In fact I was doing pretty well at resisting temptation, largely because, the weather being warm again, a lot of the gorgeous handpainted goodies were making me think, "I want to dye that," rather than "I want to buy that." (My embarrassingly sizable fiber stash may have had something to do with it too, even though I try to think of it as saving on heating bills by adding an extra layer of insulation.) But every time I walked past one building I heard a voice.
"Luuuuucia," it crooned, in velvety tones.
I kept walking.
"Luuuuuuuu-cia..." the softest whisper imaginable.


Who knew bunny crack could seduce me like that? (You can all put your hands down now.)

So who's going to Cummington? I need a ride; I'm willing to trade gas and a pair of earplugs.