So, I never did get around to that craft camp post, huh. It’s been six weeks, and I know that because the weekend after next I am going to another one, and they were eight weeks apart.
There are 159 photos in my ‘Sewjourn’ set on flickr. As taken as I was with the whole experience, that is too many. I need to get better at choosing photos, and at deleting forever the ones I don’t wish to keep. Because I DO intend to write a craft camp post after the next one. Seriously! Don’t look at me like that, I mean it this time…
I must have really liked the above view because I have about 10 photos of this. From this same angle. I think it’s the colour of the lavender.
It’s now broken down into moments in my mind. Picking Eleanor up at the airport (good LORD what a nice woman she is! Unbelieveable. And don’t try to deny it Eleanor… stop bieng so polite! ) The drive through the lovely countryside.
The getting out of the car and seeing Suse’s car already there. The buildings, the flowers, that moment of terror that it would all be quite ordinary and how could it possibly be as wonderful as everyone says it it! (Unfounded) Popping down to the bakery for coffee (and a snot block for me).
The Friday afternoon when it was just Janet, Suse, Eleanor and I. The quiet stillness of that and the promise. Quiet crafting as the sun slowly set, setting up and nattering like crazy. The pauses in between.
Eleanor’s typing and asking for suggestions. Talking about feminism and other women and crafting and work and parenting and how all those things fit into our lives. The ease of this conversation, as if I hadn’t, in reality (but who lives in reality!) just met these women. As if this was the most natural thing in the world.
Waiting for Lisa to arrive and hoping she wouldn’t miss the turnoff in the dark. Her delicious butter chicken and her giant, teenage-boy-sized serves of it. (I ate all of my giant serve).
Waking up the next morning. Wandering down to the farmer’s market with Eleanor. (Can you tell that I totally have a girl crush?)
The beautiful produce.
The flirty baker who assured me that if I made french toast with my fruit loaf, I would have an epiphany with the god of my choice. (I didn’t make the French toast.)
And then it all becomes a bit of a blur. People
Photographs, food, endless cups of tea.
And of course lots of laughter. A rousing game of pictionary that Shula tells us could be heard the next state over. Lots of helpful suggestions and encouragements. Cross-craft pollination. Lots of swearing and laughing and talking. I said ‘vagina’ a lot, because that’s how I roll. People exhibited great acts of craft bravery that astounded me.
We had swirling discussions that lasted for days, the same way our email chats do (so why was I so surprised?), picking up where they left off and jumping back into the fray.
But my favourite day was the last day. There was a peaceful rythm about it as people finished of craft projects in the morning sun
and the afternoon sun
And the ever adorable Caroline and Eleanor put on a show
So that by the end of it I was almost, almost reconciled to the fact that I had to leave and go back to my normal life. The most bittersweet moment, because these are my people, age and life differences notwithstanding. And I was just so honoured and proud and grateful to get to spend time with them. I cannot WAIT to do it all again