The Details - Part I

A few of you requested a few additional details about how Hank came to live at my house.

And those of you who know me know that as hard as I may try, I have a really hard time giving only a few details, so, well, know that while I am trying to give you a few pertinent details, more than likely, you're in for something well, more detailed. Like, way more detailed...

So. How I Met Hank and How He Came to Live at My House.

It all started with the drinking.

Friday night, I met Kellee in Porter Square where we tried to dodge rain bullets. We were not successful. We were successful in making a few choice purchases at Porter Square Books, and after poking around Mind's Eye for a bit, we headed to Kellee's place.

Where the drinking started.

There was food (tasty Thai, yum), there was conversation (lots. random. wish I remembered more), there was me walking around in my rain boots indoors (um, and I'm the only person that saw it), but mostly, there was the drinking.

Now, Kellee and I had a Plan. This was the Festival of Wheels and we were going to be on the road to Cummington by 7am.

Which is hard when the drinking doesn't stop until 3:30am.

So, after sleeping like a log in the fiber room (um, why yes, you should be jealous about that), I dragged my very sorry ass out of bed at 8:10am (I remember because I looked at my cell phone, saw what time it was, and thought about the unfairness of having to move my head (which hurt *so* badly) at 8:10am in the morning) and wandered downstairs where Mike (otherwise known as Mr. No Hangover Chirpy Boy) was making coffee (okay really - g*d bless him for that).  Rick and Kellee made their appearances a little later *cough, cough* and Rick (g*d bless him) went to D*nkin Donuts for hangover food. Once we had all made ourselves clean, and made ourselves full (okay, I was full), and MOSTLY gotten over our sluggishness, we started thinking about thinking about getting on the road.

That was at 11:38am. I know it was 11:38am because that was the time when I emailed Maryse (whom we were supposed to call when we were on the road at 7am so that she could meet us at the festival) to tell her that we were slackards who apparently valued vodka over wool.

At noon, we were on the road for realsies, and Kellee pointed out to me (wise, wise woman that she is) that this was probably our only opportunity to get to Webs. So, that's where we went. And I tried the Louet S10 and the Lendrum Double Treadle, and I started rethinking my price point (hi Lendrum! love you!).

After, ahem, a while, we wandered into Northampton to find a hotel. Guess what? It was graduation week! There were no hotel rooms ANYWHERE! Neither of us were really stressed out (at least I wasn't - maybe Kellee was, but I was feeling pretty chill about the whole thing) and after a while, we wended our way to Mamacate's lovely home, where we were greeted with choruses of "where were you?" and "where were you?" and "were you drinking?"

More super fun good times ensued (because how could there be anything but super fun good times when a group of talented, funny, witty, and generous people are assembled into one room with wheels and spindles and fiber a'flying) and at some point I fell asleep on the couch and then Kellee put me to bed.

Even more super fun good times ensued the next morning, and once we had all made ourselves clean and dressed, we headed out to Cummington.

And Kellee said "You should go to The Wheel Thing, because Jackie always has some used wheels with her". And so that was the first place we went. And I tried a Kromski Mazurka which I thought was pretty, but didn't love. And then Kellee told me I should try the Kromski Prelude, and I did, although reluctantly, because I firmly believed I would end up with a castle style wheel, and as soon as I sat down, as soon as I started treadling, as soon as the fiber started flowing through my fingers, I knew. I looked at Jackie and said "His name's Henry". Or something like that - the details are a little blurry, I was trying to figure out how quickly I could just buy the damn wheel so that No One Else Could Get Their Greasy Mitts On It.

And the rest is history and fiber enabling. Good times. Hank was mine.

Comments

[Laurie]

That is a great story that explains a LOT of things. Like why you were so quiet at Mamacate's. And why you missed the Saturday part of the festival. And how that wheel seemed to weasel its way into your life.

[caitlyn]

Great story! I loved reading it. =)

[maryse]

like i said before ... you are dead to me...

[Martha]

I love the fact that you decided your wheel's a boy. Some wheels just are, you know?

[Carole]

I totally get the "knowing" when you sit down at a wheel that's destined to become yours. The same things happened to me at SPA. I spun on the Reeves for about 5 minutes, went to get my checkbook, and told Cate, her name is Rosie. You just know.

[Bookish Wendy]

Yay! Lub tru lub.

Now, how hard do I have to twist Kellee's arm to get the Ashford to my house for a visit?!

[Kate]

You tell the best stories! By the sound of the drinking I'm in for some trouble next weekend at the fiber frolic? Is there room in the tent for me? I best be able to drive home :-)

[Dave Daniels]

Great story about Hank. You and he will make some nice hanks (of yarn) together.

[Kathy]

Mazel tov! Use him well. And you do tell a mean story :-)

[claudia]

Love is so beautiful....

[Chris]

Hee hee - and now we know the rest of the story...

[jenny]

It's beautiful! I hope I get the chance to try some wheels soon! I'm so afraid that what I THINK I might want (Lendrum) might not be right for ME.

[Cassie]

Sick as it sounds, I'm jealous about the Webs visit, even though it involved missing a day at Cummington and a hangover too. It was great to see you. I wish you and Hank many happy years of joyful spinning together.