Fourth and last in an installment: Nordic Knits, the Final Run
Picking up where we left off... Day one was fab with Ruth Sorensen. The cocktail hour and presentation by Ulla Karin Hellsten was lovely. Day two was masterful with Carol H. Rhoades and Finnish Medley of Stitches. Nancy Bush's Keynote presentation at the Banquet Saturday Night was a lovely overview to the Estonian specialty of knitting gorgeous lace shawls in the coastal town where the industry began.
The first few pictures are of some of the lovely shawls walking around on their human hosts. The last shawls are just some of the fantastic works of the Estonian artists that Nancy met and interviewed.
The presenters and organizers posed for a shot together. They are Karin Lowe, Alex Butler, Patricia Brunner, Carol H. Rhoades, Ruth Sorensen, Beth Brown-Reinsel, Evelyn Clark, Nancy Bush, Britt-Marie Christofferson, Ulla-Karin Hellsten and Stina Cowan.
The final day dawned bright and beautiful.
I, unfortunately, did not.
Fall arrived with a vengeance. It was Washington's first day with frost, I believe, and Erin's first frost in forever! She was ecstatic. But, once we got to the museum, the heat was out. I was wearing my sari, because I could, but it got all covered up in knitted goods. And I wore a hat, and covered as much of myself in wool as I could. And my feet in garage sale-d shoes!
Britt-Marie was brilliant: very knowledgeable, soft spoken and cheerful. She handed out bright packets of stitch guides from her second book she has written. As far as I know, it is available only in Sweden currently. The first stitch was a Halkruus -- a second peek of color showing through a window of the first, and all done with slipped stitches. And, of course, Ulla Karin's yarn in bitty bundles of melodious color made the swatches sing.
A reporter from the Seattle Times showed up taking lots and lots of photos down the line. He stayed long enough for us to start acting normal again.
By the second class, my wagon was draggin'. Erin and I were chatting about what we would do that night, our only free night, and the Seattle-rs chimed in. What fun! They debated what was open, where the Salmon were jumping, and which restaurants were the best. We decided to do the ferry to Bainbridge island, as one of the ladies declared she had never seen a more beautiful sight than the sunset reflecting off the Seattle skyline on the return voyage. That sold me. We took off a half hour early, eagerly taking our yarn samples, and hustled downtown to find a parking place under some of the overpasses.
We made the 4:40 ferry just in time. As we went across the sound, the sun gradually changed colors on Mount Olympus to the South. The Olympic range to the West was masked a bit by the sun, but the skyline of Seattle remained solidly before us to the East.
We touched down in Bainbridge. I touched the sweet mother earth with my toe, and we bundled up and headed back to the mainland. It was freezing cold and we were underdressed. Once there, we ate greasy fish, oysters and lovely chowder, and went back to the home we were staying in.
I had to do quite a bit of sitting on bags in order to get all packed up.
The next morning at the airport, we remembered to purchase the Seattle Times. There we were on the second page of section B. What a riot!
We shared the paper with a man who was killed by a mountain goat at the Olympic range (no news whether it was angora or pygora). Just below our photo was a story of a woman who blinded a man after she cut in front of him at a hotdog stand. We were the only normal news, it seems.