Like The Queen
Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.


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Friday, April 30, 2004  

A word about pink.

Lest you think I can't stand it - that is not true. In fact, I can appreciate, if not actually enjoy, all colors. But an entire store full of birthday cake pastels is more than this au-naturel gal can stomach. I even get tired of autumnal colors and long for the bright of a turquoise or the softness of a lavender gray or the crisp blue of a summer sky if thanksgiving dinner colors are all that are offered. It's the sheer quantity of PINK and LIME GREEN and freakin' TURQOUISE that makes my skin shudder and my teeth feel like they've bitten down on cotton.

Color, though, more than anything else, keeps me out of boutiques and small clothing shops. It is almost impossible, when a shop has a very limited selection of items, for the owner/buyer to be either diverse or neutral. Now and then, I suppose, I might stumble upon a boutique owner who's color preferences marched with mine, but I can't remember that I have ever done so. In fact, they mostly seem to run to either the clear blues and reds of Lands End and L. L Bean, or the shrieking pastels of Lilly Pulitzer. Even the neutrals tend to be on the cool side and the ubiquitous black, that "goes with anything" color, is something I can wear only below the waist.

Thus, I'm a department store shopper, because they will usually have enough of a selection to offer something, somewhere, that I can wear.

Now, I know all you lovely people with fair skin and no freckles and who adore taupe are muttering that the only color you ever see in stores is orange but that is not true. I have bought all the orange items because they go so well with the dark chocolate brown already in my wardrobe.

It is so delightful that I can dye my own fibers now and if I want an all chocolate ensemble I can darn well make it myself.

I have only Maryland Sheep and Wool talk left. I plan to leave today and hook up with Jen, who has graciously offered to put me up for the night. We leave at Crack-0-Dawn tomorrow morning because we are both taking the Spinning with Beads class, in which we are to be sitting, spinning wheels at our knees, by 9 a.m. We are both half magpie, and can always be completely distracted by glittery stuff.

And now I shall confess the most idiotic thing about me. I am homesick.


You got it.

I have talked, thought, spun and knit only MSW for weeks and months and really nigh on to a whole year, and as the day of departure dawns all I can think of is this terrible ache in my heart about leaving BD. If I didn't know I was about to have the UtterlyMostGloriousTime, and in fact, if I didn't know for sure that I really want to do this most of all; certanly more than I want to shove dusty furniture around, I would probably decide that "Nah, I think I'll stay home". Ha!

I think I'll go hug BD. See ya on Monday or maybe, if I'm really bushed, Tuesday.

posted by Bess | 7:24 AM