So I went to Maine to visit my Grandma Barb. It was just by happenstance that the weekend that I flew in and drove up the coast was the same weekend of the Fiber Festival in that area. Seriously, I did not plan this, I only found out about the fiber-y goodness about a week before I was leaving. The fiber gods and goddesses were smiling on me, inviting me to come to Maine.
So first I saw Alpacas. Which I had never seen before, and I got to pet one. (And of course, buy alpaca yarn, but that is another story entirely.)
Cute alpacas. I got yarn in each of these colors, how nice of them to get in one picture for me.
Actually the white one is the one I got yarn from. How crazy that I got to pet her, take pics of her and by her yarn?!?!? Totally crazy.
(If you look closely you'll notice that the black alpaca with the white face is sitting on a little brown alpaca's head. But she's not technically sitting.... um, she's dominating the other girl? or something strange like that.)
This is her. Trillium. The White Lama of Love with fiber so soft I want to cuddle up in it.
The way a Maine lighthouse should be seen. In a heavy fog, with the fog horn going. This is Quoddyhead Lighthouse, the most eastern lighthouse in the US. I know, it IS super cool. And surprisingly not that tall, unless you factor in that it IS on a cliff, and the winds DO pick up from time to time.
It rained (a whole bunch) while I was there. I love the rain.
This is Molly, my grandma's cat. She is super cute, and loves to sit with her front paws on the armrest of the couch. Strange girl.
This is the hospital where my grandma studied to be a nurse 1958-1961. This is actually in St. Stephens, Brunswick, Canada.
We had to cross international boarders and brave The Wool Emporium (conviently located on Main street less than 3 blocks from the boarder), to get to the hospital. oh, the woe. Did you know it takes longer to get in to the US than it does to get out? Even on bridges to Canada.
Grandma wanted to learn how to knit. So I taught her.
Molly was very proud of her mama for learning how to knit.
So was Grandma! Look at that happy face of a new knitter.
This is just up the road from my grandma's house, and it was the one-room school house she went to as a child. It is falling down and it was very wet the day I took this picture, so I couldn't get any closer. But I have this romanticized version of one-room school houses in my head and I couldn't resist.