When I saw this at an outdoor arts festival, I was intrigued by the texture. There was an entire basket of these things and so I went over to them. Then I touched them. Oh, so soft! And I picked up a few. Oh, so light! And I showed my husband. That’s nice, honey.
I found the lady running the booth. Or, she found me. I asked her about these fluffy poofy things I liked so much, “What is it?” I said.
It’s a pin cushion!
She then began to tell me her tale:
This woman, whom I will never be like, raises sheep.
Her husband shears them.
She takes the wool and cleans it.
Then she combs it.
Then she dyes it.
Then she spins it.
Then she knits and felts with it.
Holy. Crap. As she was sharing this amazing process of hers with me, I about died. I would love to be that awesome.
I asked about the colors. “So you dye the yarn yourself?”
“Yes,” she said with a glimmer, “I make the dyes myself.”
This woman harvests from her own land the plant material used to dye her wares. Beets. Black Walnut shells. Dandelions. She named more.
I thought to myself, this little pin cushion has all of that. All of that in this little pin cushion?
“And, it keeps your needles sharp and from rusting.”
RING ME UP! I’LL TAKE IT!