Bulletin: A Fair, a Fern, An Infernal Affair
September 14, 2005
Dear Kay, and the Unruly Mob Currently Voting on Yarn,
If you have not already exercised your rights as a voter for the Perfect Yarn, please scroll down to the previous entry and do so immediately. The polls are open until Thursday night, 9:41 pm CDT. Please ignore the two people who are trying influence your vote by whispering the word merino in your ear.
If you have already cast your vote, well by cracky, pour yerself a margarita/red wine/Long Island ice tea/martini/gin & tonic/NOT a sloe gin fizz and pull up a chair.
Hallelujah, the Tennessee State Fair has arrived and not a moment too soon. The fate of my poor Fern sweater has been haunting me like a lost pet. What happened to you, Fern? Did they put you next to some creepy handknit?
In a rare bi-blogging event, Angela and I took a day trip out to the fair. I knew I couldn’t face the event without serious support, and it was Angela who seemed best equipped to provide the proper backup should “things” not go “well” regarding Fern, my entry in the fair. Angela is steady. Angela has small children. Angela lets it all wash over her.
Imagine my relief when Angela arrived with not only her two adorables but also her mate, The Husband, who is the nicest guy in the world but also may be fully capable of opening up a can of whupass at the right moment. Was whupass required? Read on.
Angela ought to be working at the the Metropolitan Museum. Her curatorial sense is uncanny, and her laserlike eye misses nothing. It was an education to stroll with her through the Creative Arts Building. (It’ll always be the Women’s Building to me.) Do not fail to see her reportage of our day. Gems, I tell you. She unearthed pure, solid gold.
At least she had batteries in the AngelaCam. The AnnCam took one crummy photo, then blinked out. With the Blogphone I was able to capture a couple of crucial items.
I know what you guys want to see, so here you go:
Wilburs. Small, potbellied Wilburs. The big Wilburs aren’t due at the fair until the weekend.
A log cabin quilt. With the red patch in the middle and everything.
A denim quilt! Why, it’s just like what Loretta Pettway would make down there in Gee’s Bend, if she had access to a 60-color computer embroidery machine.
The blue ribbon winner in the category of “Croquet Set, Miniature Old.”
A simple, unrewarded stockinette scarf done in Kidsilk Haze on size 2s. Almost transparent. Gorgeous. I give it the Blue Ribbon of Quiet Perfection.
And yes, we found Fern, sitting in a chair not too far from the blue ribbon winner for the category “Afghan, Acrylic/Reminiscent of the American Flag.”
Second Place, Sweater, Children’s Knitted
What, you ask, was the winner of the blue ribbon in the category of “Sweater, Children’s Knitted”? Aw, I couldn’t even bear to take a picture of it: a Dale of Norway children’s Fair Isle sweater that looked like it had been made by a machine.
As it turns out, The Machine won a blue ribbon in this category and at least four others that I saw. She is said to be such an unwavering generator of fabriclike Fair Isle that they changed the rules so that a blue ribbon winner is ineligible to enter in the same category the following year.
Who is The Machine? Why doth she knit so maniacally? Should not a can of whupass be opened upon her?
Nay, methinks not. The Machine has the sort of knitterly ambition that no one can match. She is Tiger Woods; we are Any Other Knitter. She is Lance Armstrong; we are the guys who look at Lance Armstrong’s backside. We take our red ribbon with as much goodwill as we can muster, and we sharpen our needles for the next time. One thing I know: she can’t enter the “Sweater, Children’s Knitted” category next year. So maybe I will.
Angela’s two darlings continue to feed carrots to goats whenever they have the chance.
Angela now works as a curator for The American Museum of Truly Useless Stuff.
The Husband has perfected the remote control model airplane so that it can simultaneously fly in the air and launch fireworks.
The Machine has made Dale of Norway Fair Isle sweaters for each survivor of Hurricane Katrina. She is currently at work on her entries for the 2014 Tennessee State Fair.
Fern entered the Witness Protection Program and is living quietly in an undisclosed location.
As for me, well. I’m turning Fern into a pattern that isn’t written on six scraps of paper, a ballband, and the back of an envelope. And I have a batch of the yarns I used which, I think, would be enough for another Fern. If anybody wants to give Fern a try, it would be great to have a test knitter. This has been my favorite project, ever.