The Independent Stitch

On connecting with local foods (and other things)

I was in Denver on Thursday doing some errands, including buying a tripod so I can take photos of the swatches for the book that's coming out this fall (statement made with force and a determination to catch up, because I have to catch up).

For previous books, I've been able to put the swatches directly on the scanner. For this one, some of them are too big . . . and I've tried knitting them with finer yarn, but the results just don't look right . . . the finer yarns would be terrific for a knitted project that's to be used as knitting, but they don't meet the needs of the printed page.

So I need to be able to take perfectly square, clear photographs of swatches, some very long. Thus the quest for a tripod with a reversible center post, the ability to steadily support a minimum of 9 pounds/4.1 kg and some other attributes. I'd done a bunch of research online, but it was impossible to tell whether what I saw would do what I needed without examining an array of possibilities in person.

(By the way, the colors and specific yarns used to knit the swatches have been chosen to work well in black-and-white print reproduction. Also by the way, if the computers had not messed up repeatedly for just about four months I would already have printed advance reading copies of this book, which means I'd have already resolved this and a bunch of other challenges. Moving right along, there's been little posting around here because I've been making swatches. And doing a few rows on my dark-blue cardigan now and then, just to keep it fresh in my mind.)

Anyway, while I was in the city I didn't have time for WaterCourse or Jerusalem (or to make a new discovery), so I stopped for a salad-bar-and-muffin lunch at Whole Foods and picked up a copy of a brand-new magazine about local foods, called Edible Front Range, shown below with the tripod that promises to save my sanity and one of the swatches that's propelling me into solving yet another technical problem (because in the appropriate yarn it's about 3 inches/7.5 cm longer than the scanner bed).

A series of Edible publications is apparently springing up as part of a franchise operation throughout the U.S. Magazines are just being released or are in the works for other places I've lived (in no particular order): Seattle, Iowa, the upcoming Pioneer Valley, and close-enough-to-where-I-was Twin Cities and Chicago

Hmmm. I've been to all the places covered so far by Edible Communications publications except the Hawaiian islands, and I'm not sure I've been in Austin, although I've definitely traveled across Texas by car. Traveling across Texas (or Montana, or Kansas, or Saskatchewan) by car is something you don't forget (it's quite far across Ontario, of course, but there's more readily apparent variety en route; same with Quebec). The drive across Texas was so many years ago that I don't remember whether Austin was on the highways we traveled, and the city would have changed since then anyway. . . . The highways were still mostly two-lane. . . . I think I've been on Texas-crossing trajectories both farther north and farther south than Austin. . . .

These magazine launches all appear to be new. What a massive enterprise. It will be interesting to see when and how the variants develop their own characters within the format. These would be great resources for traveling, too.

(Here's how to get started with an Edible Your Place publication for an area that isn't being served yet.)
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My analysis of the first issue of Edible Front Range: Interesting articles and unusually good writing (by the estimable Claire Walter, among others). I actually read the whole magazine (I usually read like a skipping stone . . . ).

They need to work on their photography. Even the custom photos look like stock, and I definitely wanted to see more. Food is sensuous, but I didn't perceive much of that through the photos that were used, although they did a good job with composition and cropping on the images they did include. The personality and individuality of the foods and people just didn't come through, and the apparent lack of captions didn't help (if there were captions, I couldn't find them). My guess is that this preliminary issue was put together quickly, and photos can be challenging to acquire and process (see tripod discussion above). Fine writing goes a long way for me, and it saved the day here.

There's a whole cluster of local food-related businesses in a part of Denver that I've driven through many times. I wouldn't have known they were there. Now I do, and we'll be able to explore next time we're in the urban area. There's a winery, a bakery, a coffee roaster, a candy factory, and more. . . . All on north Washington. . . . I know where there's a winery closer to home, many excellent breweries (if I liked beer I think I would be blissed out by the alternatives), and several cheesemakers, and a bunch of dog biscuit outfits (I wonder if the Edibles will include critter crunchies?).

It would be fun to get involved in the Slow Food movement in this area, if I weren't spending so much time working on the Slow Fiber movement (I just made that up . . . it sounds a little odd).

On missing BookExpo America, and on the new IndieBound

This is the first year since 2002 that I haven't been at BookExpo America, the massive annual convention for the book industry. I like going, not so much for the mobs of people and the free books and the "scene" (which are all overwhelming) as for the people and the ideas. There are many people I don't see elsewhere that I won't be visiting with this year.

The convention opens today in Los Angeles, and I'm at my desk in my basement office, just as if today was a normal day.

The massive computer problems I've had this year ate up both my time and any cash I might have diverted to pay for the trip. I usually find a local hostel to stay in, so the big-ticket items are airfare and the pre-BEA educational gatherings sponsored by what used to be PMA and is now, more appropriately, The Independent Book Publishers Association. So it's a lot less expensive trip for me than for many attendees, but still out of reach this year. I need to be here working on the book that will be published in October (Ethnic Knitting Exploration: Lithuania, Iceland, and Ireland, by Donna Druchunas).

Nonetheless, I can read about what's happening at BookExpo.

This morning, Bookselling This Week, which arrives in my inbox on a more regular basis than I have time to keep up with, let me know that the American Booksellers Association has announced a new program called IndieBound, connecting independent booksellers to the "live locally" movement. Here's the gist of what they said about it:

• "Following a year of study and planning, ABA designed IndieBound to tap into the growing national localism movement, with fresh ways for independent booksellers and other independent businesses to better convey their core strengths —independence, passion, community—to customers. A community-based website, IndieBound.org, has launched today as well, and will serve as the gateway for the entire indie community, with access to The Declaration of IndieBound manifesto, book-related related content, and more functionality planned for the coming weeks and months."
• "The program is designed to unite booksellers, readers, indie retailers, local business alliances, and others in support of local activism and local economies and to lead an Independent Revolution."

Anything that brings independents together is a good thing. It's too easy for any independent business to feel like it's the only one swimming against the corporate tide, and sometimes our arms get tired and we want to rest for a while, but if we do that we'll end up being swept out to sea and drowned.

The project's website talks about the title and focus of the endeavor:

• "Each page of a book carries something totally incredible and unique, but when they are all brought together, they build something infinitely greater."

And here's a quote from a bookstore owner about the project:

• "An integral part of IndieBound's purpose, to bring together local businesses of all stripes, is what appeals to Kelly Justice of the Fountain Bookstore in Richmond, Virginia. 'The most exciting thing to me about IndieBound is being able to officially partner with my neighbor businesses in our pride and passion for the city of Richmond and the things that make it unique. . . . [T]his flexible, modular revolution allows me to focus on relationships with my fellow merchants and customers. . . . I'm ready to save the day in my hometown! Are you?"

I think, in lieu of a trip to BookExpo this year, I might splurge on a t-shirt. But which one?

Gordon's Rules of Legislative Conduct

Colorado state senator Ken Gordon doesn't represent my part of the state, but I've subscribed to his newsletter for several years because it's so informative and interesting to read.

Yesterday evening, at the end of his term limits, he sent the following message. It seems timely to share with people of all political persuasions, within and beyond Colorado. I'd link to the text on his page, but it's not posted there yet and he has given permission to publish.

From Ken Gordon:

Dear Friends and Neighbors:

Today is the last day of my last session in the Colorado General Assembly. I actually can't find words to describe the experience except to say that it was [an] honor to be chosen by the people of my district to represent them and an honor to be chosen by other Senators to be the Majority Leader. I don't know what I am going to do next. Below is something I passed out to Senators today. If anyone wants to forward these Rules of Legislative Conduct or publish them you have my permission. I will continue to write as events occur. Thanks for all of your support over the years. I am not retiring. I will still be involved in public affairs. I just don't know the form that will take.

Sincerely,

Ken Gordon

Majority Leader, Colorado State Senate

Gordon's Rules of Legislative Conduct

(Suggestions for future legislators)

1. Think for yourself. If you don't have any internal values that inform your conduct here, find another occupation.
2. Leadership: You can't always be liked and always do the right thing. If you don't have the courage to sometimes do the right thing even though it will anger some person or support group, you should find another occupation. If you don't have courage, you may be an elected official, but you are not a leader.
3. If you are in the majority and you can’t pass a bill that you want to pass without abusing the process, then you shouldn’t pass the bill. If you can’t kill a bill that you want to kill without abusing the process, then you shouldn’t kill the bill.
4. If you abuse the process in order to prevent minority party members from accomplishing anything that reflects the values of their constituents, then you create a deep and bitter resentment. This resentment will come back to haunt you in myriad ways. Abuse of the process does not show strength. It shows weakness.
5. Respect the minority party members. There are a large number of people who voted for them. When you disrespect the minority party members you disrespect many of the people of Colorado. And their ideas are not always wrong.
6. Think of the other members of the Senate as team members—even members of the other party. The goal is not to be in the majority. If that were the goal, then the other party would be the enemy. The goal is to make Colorado the best state in the country, or in any country for that matter. To do this we need everyone’s help. If we don’t do this we will be at a competitive disadvantage with states or countries that learn how to work better together.
7. Some people think there is a distinction between how you act in a campaign and how you act at the legislature. If you lie during a political campaign, that makes you a liar, and you will be treated that way in the legislature as well.
8. Respect the people who put you in office. You might think that you do that, but every time you commit your vote to a lobbyist or even another member before you have heard committee testimony or debate, you have disrespected the people who wish to voice their opinion.
9. Don't let conflict escalate. Be the one who deescalates. Be the bigger person. Be the person who acknowledges error. If you have to, go outside and take a walk.
10. Have pride in what you are doing. You stand on the shoulders of many thousands who have worked or shed blood for our rights and our democracy. Fewer than 2% of the people who have ever lived have lived in a democracy. Don’t take it for granted. By your conduct here, honor those people who fought for this democracy.

Senator Ken Gordon

District 35–Denver

Sunday at Maryland Sheep & Wool Festival

Sunday at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival is always quieter than Saturday. It's still plenty busy and crowded. A lot of people who did their reconnaissance on Saturday are making final evaluations for (and completing) major purchases. I'd guess that more spinning wheels depart the site on Sunday than on Saturday, although I saw a lot of demos and test runs going on yesterday.

But on Sunday it's easier to choose where to go, rather than being pushed by the crowds or—my choice—retreating to the location of least population density.

Today I went to a few more short classes on specific aspects of wool, but the highlight of the day was the annual Parade of Breeds. As one of the handouts for one of the classes pointed out, "there are more breeds, types, and varieties of sheep than of any other domesticated livestock." This year's parade included significantly more breeds than the last time I was here in 2000—I'd guess somewhere between thirty and forty.

It's really hard to take photos at the parade. Lots of people want to see the animals, and there are lots of critters and people to coordinate to pull off this event. I got a few photos, mostly of the breeds in the earlier part of the alphabet. I caught the best photos while several of the sheep were waiting their turn in the ring. My camera has a delay between when I click the button and when the photo is snapped, so lots of other images that should have been sheep-heading-into-ring ended up as sheep-butt-moving-away-from-me.

Here, however, are a few of the photos that worked (more or less). If I've misidentified any breed and someone else knows what it is instead, please drop me a line. When the sheep have been shorn—which is true of almost all the animals at a show in early May—I, as a spinner, have lost access to one of my primary clues to identity: the fleece. (Yes, of course they announced the breeds as they went into the ring, but I was hunkered down in a corner, poking my camera in between people, mostly avoiding getting stepped on by sheep, and did not quite manage to write down legible reminder notes as I grabbed shots.)

This is a Black Welsh Mountain, ready to be first into the ring. It took me a number of years before I realized that the sheep paraded in alphabetical order.

I caught this Border Cheviot while it was waiting its turn:

Here's a California Red:

And a Clun Forest:

And the Columbias are always so massive . . . they look like ponies, especially next to the Black Welsh Mountains, the Icelandics, the Shetlands, the smaller Jacobs. . . . This guy'll gain another several inches in height when his wool grows in:

And a Cotswold, one of my favorite faces, with the start of a lovely fleece to go with it:

I wish I hadn't missed the white Icelandic ewe and her two spring-loaded tiny black lambs. Well, I got a photo, but it wasn't very good. They were so wonderful I'll put it here anyway. The mom still has some fleece on her.

And I caught the Merino rep within the ring:

Again, the wool's just starting to grow in for this year.

The thing about these sheep is that as varied as their appearance and personalities are, their fleeces are equally diverse. That continues to fascinate me. That and the fact that a number of these breeds embody a cultural treasure that is, in many ways, at risk of being lost. So I especially love seeing individuals from the rare breeds come into the ring.

Later in the day, I went over to the breed showcase barn and visited the Hog Island sheep that came to the festival from George Washington's Mount Vernon Estate and Garden. They'd been in the parade, but about at the point that I lost my photo vantage point entirely.

Even among the rare breeds, Hog Island sheep are especially uncommon; there may be two hundred of them. Here are two, one of whom has been newly shorn and one of whom still has her coat:

The dark one enjoyed having her head scratched, right between the horns, please.

At the end of the day, she and her buddy headed home in a truck with this license plate:

Anybody who feels inclined toward a good cause: if you can't conserve some of these animals by keeping them yourself, find a place like Mount Vernon that's doing the crucial work of being sure that these living resources stick around and earmark a contribution for the livestock program.

Maryland Sheep and Wool, Saturday

Yesterday was the first day of the full Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival.

Here's what the parking lot looked like at 8:15 in the morning, about forty-five minutes before the festival officially began:

As I thought, the rabbit building's overflow area was put to good use for the Ravelry gathering:

It was packed inside. I didn't even get in there.

Here's the aisle where I took the photo of the truck parked in the main building on Friday:

And here's the area outside that building:

Those are food lines, early in the day, at a twenty- to thirty-minute wait length. Later they got longer. In the way background is the area with the sheepdog demos.

At mid-afternoon, there's a sheep-and-wool tradition:

It's made with real lemons, right there. There's also a booth that has real, old-fashioned carbonated beverages, like birch beer and cream sodas. (You can also get the standard stuff.)

Toward the end of the day, I was able to catch up with one of Bryan Bowers' performances. He's one of my favorite musicians, and was cultivating a few new fans at the festival:

I'd hoped to be able to ask him if he'd consider playing "The View from Home," which is one of my all-time favorite songs, but it was a short concert and I was feeling lazy enough just to listen to whatever he felt like playing.

There's really good music at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. Maggie Sansone is a regular. She often plays at the end of the main building, so while I'd spin in the Interweave Press booth she'd be providing music to the whole place. It was lovely. Over the years I've brought home a number of CDs, as well as fiber and tools.

And here's the end of the day:

I've got two ounces of fleece (two different kinds) and three skeins of a yarn that I'd been looking for since last October. The two ounces doesn't seem like much, but it's special stuff that you can't get just anywhere and it's got immediate uses in my life.

I didn't get to the big Ravelry party at the Sheraton in Columbia, although I'd intended to. I went to supper with a small group of friends. By the time we actually ate and then I drove one of them back to the farm where she's staying, the Ravelry party was almost over (it was nearly 11), and I went back to the hotel to gather my forces for the next day.

My way of navigating the festival is to avoid crowds, so there's a lot I didn't see yesterday. Also, I was showing a friend around, which affected where I went and what I saw.

Sunday is traditionally quieter. I've got several things in mind to accomplish today, and I'll have time for some browsing.

Warming up for Maryland

Travel: a shift in environments

Yesterday as we prepared to leave Colorado for Maryland, we drove toward the airport in quite a May Day snowstorm. This is what it looked like through the window of the van that took us from off-airport parking to the terminal:

Our flight was delayed by an on-ground detour to the de-icing area.

The rest of the journey went well, and by supper time we were on the ground in Baltimore.

This morning's class on some technicalities of wool

This morning, after (free, hot) breakfast in the hotel lounge area, I headed over to the fairgrounds for a morning class called Wool Science 201, taught by Robert Padula, who's a Wool Quality Improvement Consultant. He works with the American Sheep Industry Association, which is the commercially oriented advocate of sheep-raising in the United States. (He personally raises Targhees, with an emphasis on . . . wool quality.)

The class was taught primarily from the perspective of the wool industry's, rather than handspinners', needs, a difference that was acknowledged and interesting to observe. Handspinners have a lot to learn from industry, although the information we need is usually buried in masses of data. One of the things I like to do is find the spinner-useful bits and pull them out and play with them, or to act as a kind of translator between the sides. This morning was extremely valuable from that perspective. It's going to take some time to digest all that I got introduced to or, in several cases, finally found answers to . . . data that resolved several questions I've been researching with only moderate success got laid out right in front of me.

My trip's already been 100 percent wortwhile, and I haven't been here twenty-four hours yet.

(While looking for links for Bob Padula, I found a nifty article in the New York Times about Morehouse Farm, where they understand both sides of the equation—industry's and spinners'—and have found their own unique way to balance in between.)

The festival prepares

Backing up a bit to before the class: I arrived a little early at the fairgrounds and took photos of the "before-festival" atmosphere.

This morning, there was lots of parking available:

I parked about fifty feet past the truck and the bus, maybe five cars from the main gate. I briefly pondered what it would be like if I could reserve my parking space for tomorrow as well (maybe leave the car here and hitchhike back to the hotel, and get here the same way in the morning?). Exhibitors' parking is great. But the exhibitors need it a lot more than the visitors do, no matter what we visitors may think from time to time.

Here's the rabbit building, just inside the main gate, where the two fairgrounds-based Ravelry gatherings will take place (11:30 to 1 on Saturday, 1 to 2:30 on Sunday) . . . apparently a thousand people are in the Ravelry MD S&W group. I'm sure that a bunch of folks who participate in Ravelry will be at the festival but have not joined that group, and there are also the Ravelry-interested. The space could end up pretty crowded, but it looks like it's semi-expandable and won't be overly claustrophobic.

Here's the lawn outside building V (now Main), where the Save the Sheep project idea began in 1998:

Here's what the inside of building V (Main) looked like this morning at about 8:45:

The Interweave space that I spent so much time in between 1993 and 1999 is halfway down the lefthand outside wall. Amy Clarke Moore, who's now the editor of Spin-Off, will be spending her weekend there again this year. It's really a nice home base.

Those who have been at the festival know that this space will be crammed by the same time tomorrow . . . with exhibitors . . . and about 15 minutes later it will also be crammed with visitors.

Right now, it's open enough to fit big trucks in the aisles. As I was walking around today, I was reminded of how well the companies that rent cars, trucks, and trailers must like the festival, if they know enough about to realize why their business is looking so good this week:

That's looking down just one of the two aisles of the main building.

And something new since the last time I was here:

There was another ATM unit by the main gate, with two terminals, in a mobile trailer. There may be more scattered around. I'll bet they see even more use than the porta-potties.

Some of the vendors stay in local motels, but others vendors and shepherds camp out in the vendor-specific parking area. As I walked by this morning, a parent was getting three kids breakfast. So this, like the other parking areas within the gated area adjacent to the buildings, is also a type of home base for the exhibitors:

There were two people putting up a banner that said "Welcome to the 35th anniversary Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival":

I love that there are both black and white sheep on the banner. The presence of the black sheep reflects the handspinners' presence and influence in the mix, although this festival has an equally strong industry focus. Black sheep aren't of much use to industrial producers of wool. Black fibers (or fibers of any color other than white), prized by handspinners, are classified as contaminants when wool is bulk-processed. If industry wants black or another color, it can dye white wool to get it; colored fibers, on the other hand, mar whites and pastels and brights, also dyed.

Here's another pre-festival sight—no lines for the bathrooms:

And here's a ram getting its pre-show grooming. The judging he'll face will be on factors other than the fleece, which is trimmed to make the animal as a whole look great, by industry standards, and he does indeed look so fine:

Lots of the exhibitors know each other, both from connections outside the festival and from coming here year after year. I miss the pre-opening (and post-festival) camaraderie as much as anything.

And I miss the sheep, so I went to visit a few:

And that lovely face (a colored Lincoln) represents the spinners' side of the sheep world at Maryland.

Whenever I'd get a break from the booth, I'd go recharge my batteries by taking a stroll through the barns. I saw about twenty different breeds this morning, and only a quarter to a third of the stalls were occupied.

By noon, the booth set-up had proceeded significantly, a few of the food vendors had opened up to serve the exhibitors and workshop attendees, and the working folk had begun to walk around the grounds a bit:

It's all getting ready. . . .

Coals to Newcastle, or a spinning kit for Maryland

So I'm about to leave for the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival, where there will be an abundance of tools and fiber, and I need to pack . . . some tools and fiber. I'll be leaving home a good 50 hours before the festival opens, and my budget also is both slim and dedicated to specific items that I need to locate, not including materials to work with during this weekend.

Here's my minimal travel spinning kit:

It's not much of a photo because the sun's not up yet.

The kit includes:

• a plastic tool container from the hardware store, just right to fit
• a specific Magpie spindle
• a comb from the pet supplies store, which is the smallest fiber prep tool I've got right now
• a sample-sized niddy-noddy that also comes apart into pieces and can fit in the tube
• a packet of Polwarth wool
• a packet of Borderdale wool

I have no projects in mind for the wools; they're just a couple of New Zealand-origin fibers I'd like to play with en route. I'd rather card the Polwarth than use the grooming comb on it, but even a small pair of carders exceeds what I want to carry.

• Polwarth: Merino X Lincoln origins, ending up 3 parts Merino to 1 part Lincoln
  
• Borderdale: Border Leicester X Corriedale origins
  

There's a bandanna that gets wrapped around the spindle in the tube. I can also fold prepared-but-unspun fiber into it to keep the locks in order until they get spun. The comb doesn't fit into the tube or my kit would be even more compact. It's that handle. And I don't have time to find something smaller.

In addition, for times when spinning doesn't fit the mood, I have two small packets of knitting:

• the final swatches for the upcoming Nomad Press book
• the sleeves for my Aran-style cardigan, plus paper to start designing the body

That should hold me through the flights and other waiting times.