There are people who like beef, and then there are people who take weeklong intensive butchering workshops. I think this is true for many likes. You have the people who passively like, occasionally indulge, etc. and the people who make special trips to bizarre locales to share their enthusiasm with likeminded obsessives.
This Sunday, I join their ranks.
I am going to my first fiber festival. Yes. An entire day of yarn-related activities. I think this qualifies as a gross escalation of my hobby.
I'm going with two of my buddies from my Wednesday night Stich 'n Bitch. We will drive nearly two hours to Rhinebeck, New York, where we will encounter an orgy of fiber the likes of which mere passersby of yarn stores couldn't imagine.
And I've been in training.
I've not bought yarn, even stuff I really wanted, in preparation. I've treated the outing, financially, the way I treat a trip to the casino: money in cash, in hand, and not a penny more. No revisiting the ATM. No, "oh just one more pull of the slots." No rationalizations that I might never see the like of x again.
I go knowing that those I encounter might be of the variety of manic crafters that I poke fun at and, that by my presence, I count myself among their numbers. I hope that this experience will not be a lifechanging one that has me flitting about the nation in search of other fiber festivals, dragging devoted partner in tow like a dog to the vet.
Trepidation abounds, but I think I'm ready for this milestone.
See you on the other side of crazy.
1 week ago