Highlands Games

 I've mentioned prepping for the Highland Games - they were held this past weekend (Feb 11-12) and I was demonstrating handspinning.

Going to get the negatives out of the way first.  I was contacted by the volunteer coordinator several months ago (I think October) to see if I would be willing to demonstrate at the games.  She painted a picture of a Fiber Arts Booth - with demonstrations of spinning, weaving, knitting, maybe embroidery or quilting.  The idea is that we would be able to spell each other off so that each of us would have a chance to watch some of the games (mostly feats of strength, like the lifting of heavy stones and the caber toss) and otherwise have an enjoyable time.  It sounded like fun.

Then I got a call about 10 days before the event from the new volunteer coordinator - it appear that the woman who contacted me hadn't actually done much else.  She was removed from being the allover coordinator to just being in charge of the fiber arts booth - which turned out was going to be her, her daughter, and me.  And then she got miffed and bowed out completely.  Which left just me.  Therefore no wandering off to watch any games (I don't like to leave my displays and especially my spinning wheel unattended.)

The other negative wasn't anyone's fault.  The week before the Games was lovely - clear, perhaps a touch too warm.  The Friday of setting up turned rainy.  The first day of the Games it rained steadily except when it rained hard.  Everything turned into a morass.  The hill our booths were on became a stream.  This was in the VIP tent.

Eventually it all had to be called for the day.  The weather maps were showing lightning strikes only a few miles away, and we were standing in water - bad combination.

The rain finally stopped early Sunday morning - but everything was still muddy and wet.  And a strong wind picked up and blew all day (hard enough that it rolled and destroyed a couple of the tents).  And barely made it to 50 degrees.  Cold, windy, and wet.  I froze (I wasn't alone).  I couldn't even demonstrate my handspindles because my hands were too numb.  Fortunately, I had brought a couple of my capes for display so wore one instead.

In spite of freezing me arse off, I had a good time.  There was a surprisingly good turnout, and I always forget how many people have never seen a spinning wheel in action.  A Girl Scouts leader wants me to work with her troupe to get a textile studies merit badge.  A home farm/petting zoo would like me to come to one of their events.  And I had a good turnout for audience participation for the wool waulking.

"Waulkin" was the traditional way of finished wool cloth after it comes off the loom to lock all the threads together and make the fabric thicker and softer.  These days I pop it in a washing machine for a few minutes, but Back In The Day it was done by gathering people around to pick the cloth up and slam it back down again, singing to keep everyone in rhythm.  By then I had been very cold for several hours, and having to talk to people above the noise of the wind, so I was hoarse and I never have much of a singing voice anyway (the leader sings verses and everyone else the refrains).  But no one seemed to mind, and they all had a good time (possibly because the songs were traditionally a little off-color).

There were nice things.  The owner of the petting zoo brought me a cup of hot cocoa.  There was a jeweler two booths down and I got a very pretty pin (for hair or shawl) of Yggdrasil (the life tree of Norse legend)

I gave up an old grudge.  Back story - years ago (decade plus) a woman (Natasha) came to work at the museum (this when when I was working in the education department).  We became friends (I even sewed her wedding dress).  But eventually she was made Director of Education and as sometimes happens her attitude changed.  Long story short - eventually she treated me with such a level of disrespect that I submitted my resignation (and promptly started volunteering in the animal department, which she tried to block).  From then on, I mostly managed to avoid seeing her, and if I did, I was . . . polite.  She eventually left the museum in 2021.

So I'm at my table on Sunday, chatting with people - and there she is, surprised to see me.  And looking a little awkward - like a puppy who doesn't know if it's going to get kicked or have it's ears scratched.  And suddenly I didn't care about the old argument - it's been over 5 years and I just don't need to carry negative luggage any more.  So we talked and hugged (and I thought it was rather sweet that I recognized the cute mitts she was wearing as the ones I made her years ago).

Sunday morning as I was driving in, I heard a slight "clunk" from the passenger seat where I had put my ruana (I was planning on wearing it when I got there).  After I parked and was putting it on - the copper brooch I use to close it was missing.  The clunk sound was likely it falling off.  I did a quick search for it, couldn't find it, figured that it had likely slipped under the seat and I would look for it when I got home.  But while I was setting up my display a man in full impressive kilt regalia came walking up the hill to me (it's a pretty good hike from the parking lot).  My brooch had apparently fallen out of the car when I opened the door - he spotted it and asked the parking attendant if he had noticed where I had gone and walked up all that way to return it to me.

The other nice thing was from a young man who spent quite some time at my booth, both interested in how my wheel worked and wanting to talk about old life skills in general (he also joined in the waulking - the guy in the plaid shirt next to me).  He had gone off to look at other things, but returned to give me a big bag of fresh popped kettle corn, just to thank me for taking the time to talk with him.

So yes - I got soaked one day and frozen the next, but I'm glad that I went.  It was a good weekend.