Bless you, Shandy.
I knew nothing of the I Knit Weekender. I’ve now booked myself in for Starmore’s Saturday morning session of Celtic knottery at 10 a.m. I also paid £8 for the day itself, although I have no idea of what that entails. Starmore has another session at 11:45 which should mean that the first one will end promptly, and I’ll have time (sigh) for some subsequent art.
But it is the weekend, and maybe patient Rachel will come up with a scheme for entertaining my husband thus allowing me to linger. He is perfectly compos mentis, but breathless and very slow and pretty dependant these days. He doesn’t like wandering about alone, although he survived several days of it last summer when I was in CT at Theo’s wedding. He carries identification – he would eventually be Returned to Sender if anything happened, but I would not be happy sending him off alone. His first academic boss and dear friend, the head of the Art History Dept at Glasgow in the 50’s and 60’s, dropped dead at a London art exhibition, so it does happen. Turner, I think.
Should I take along my first-edition-with-dust-jacket of The Celtic Collection to have her sign it? No, that’s a bit girly and the weight of a needless book is what we don’t need. We always come back with a great load of exhibition catalogues. I just looked it up on Abebooks with the vague feeling that Starmore sometimes fetches silly prices, but there are plenty of copies and even the first editions aren’t very dear.
I was tempted by Ragga Eirikdottir’s class on Lopi knitting, scheduled for the same time on Saturday morning. But it lasts longer, and doesn’t sound as if it includes much that I don’t know. I would love to meet a genuine Faroese with a matronymic (if there is such a word). Do they have patronymics as well – people named Eirikson? I could look that up, I suppose.
As for actual knitting, I’m on the declining slope of the 9th scallop. There has been more trouble, but again I think I have redeemed myself fairly successfully. Perhaps a goodbye picture tomorrow.