I love volunteering at Billie Creek Village. I only wish I could do it full-time, year-round. The village is currently for sale though and it is anyone’s guess if it will even re-open next year so I’m trying to make the most of the last hurrah the Covered Bridge Festival brings.
I learned quickly last year to sit down as much as possible. There is such a flurry of activity that you don’t realize how exhausted you really are until you drive home. Since Friday I’ve spun six skeins of yarn and have two more bobbins full of singles. I don’t think that’s too bad given all the interruptions.
I love how the spinning wheel has the power to mesmerize people. Most people really are drawn to it like bugs to a zapper. The men tend to look at the wheel and the mechanics of it, the women look at the yarn. Not that I’m being all stereotypical or anything, it just seems that’s how the different brains work. Interesting.
Even the bus loads of school children this year have been engaged. I’ve not wanted to shoot a single child so far. (Hey, no judging, you have NO idea.) There are, however, children all across Central Indiana right now with wads of raw wool in their pockets. Their mother’s will be thrilled when they find that in the wash, tee hee! Some of them have actually shown some serious interest in learning the craft. I feel like a spider spinning a web to catch unsuspecting victims. Mwah, ha, ha…
I also managed to fix up the old Kromski Symphony wheel that belongs to the village and start using it. It had seen better days, as in it was rusted so much it wouldn’t spin. (Now I can bring my cherry Matchless home and e-mail Schacht and prove to them the whirl they sent me is absolutely NOT cherry.)
It has been a great, productive festival so far. Today it is freezing cold and poring down rain though. I’ll be staying home since the wagon rides that bring the visitors to me at the farmhouse won’t be running. As much as I’d like the day off to rest, believe it or not I’d rather be there in front of the fire in my costume spinning yarn and sipping cider. Even if nobody else ever showed up.