Mason-Dixon Mailbag, Pre-holiday Edition
December 18, 2004
I have a couple of items for Show ‘n’ Tell, not a one which can vaguely compete with the news of Lis and baby Jamie. (Has Jamie discovered Pepperidge Farm Goldfish? Has she heard her first Baby Mozart tape? Weep!)
Doodad Number One: Elmira Strikes Again
Those of you following quilting news in the lower reaches of Alabama already know that Elmira Sanders has reached superstar status, thanks to the recent Greenville Advocate profile of her. Not only did she receive major ink about her quilting, her church had a special service in celebration of her talents. I love that. Kaffe Fassett could walk into the Greenville Waffle House and get nothing. Elmira has people sleeping in front of her house hoping for a glimpse of her.
Her latest creation arrived yesterday, just in time for me to (ssshhhh) send it to Hubbo’s sister Liz and family for the holidays.
This one is a combination of oxford cloth shirts, blues and yellows, pale to bright. Hubbo’s dad had a lot of blue shirts. And yellow ones.
The early line on Elmira III is that it involves . . . madras. There was no shortage of madras in Hubbo’s dad’s life.
Tidbit Number Two: Those Wacky Outer Hebrideans
It’s been a while since my yarn-jaded, yeah-yeah-so-it’s-handspun-roving-from-yer-own-flock-of-sheep self has seen something brand spankin’ new. Imagine the thrill of seeing the “Small Packets” package sitting on my front doorstep. It didn’t even bother me when Clif drop-kicked my long-awaited bag of yarn across the front hall. Even his “Not! More! Stinkin’! Yarn!” failed to yank my chain.
Lobster, Thistle, Apple, Sunset
These are the new Rowan Harris DK wools, made from the wool of the Harris Tweed textile mills, waaaay out there in the Atlantic northwest of Scotland. Chilly! Authentic! Possibly uncomfortable!
I have loved Harris Tweeds since my childhood, when my dad had a jacket that was a scratchy, sheepy thing. You can’t make a tweed too grim for me. Even the brights above have a little of that Scottish gloom about them — bright in spite of themselves. My heart really belongs to this sort of thing:
Yep, this is Shade 008, Herring, as muddled and murky as the coldwater fish for which it’s named. Everything but the kitchen sink thrown into this one, resulting in a possibly unknittable yarn. What color is this? Who cares?
Just looking at this ball of yarn leaves me wishing for some tasty North Atlantic chow. Here you go: everybody’s favorite holiday treat, Herring in Oatmeal! First person to fix a batch of this wins a ball of this yarn. Proof of herring required.
By the way, these yarns bear no resemblance to the shades shown on the Rowan web site. It’s like their photographer just went, “I don’t get this stuff” and shot a bunch of blurry-looking whatever.
Highly recommended for anybody who’s had their fill of Zing, Fizz, Salsa, or any other eyelashy nutcase novelty yarns. This is not about novelty; it’s about ancient, deathless oooooooldnessssssssssss.
PS And how could I forget Celtic Mix? Thanks, Melanie, for reminding me:
I see olive, brown, moss, peat, yellow, crimson, brass, bronze, copper–so much Celticness all mudged together!