I awoke a little earlier this morning, as it had been my intention to drive down to Deefield for the NH Sheep and Wool Festival. I lounged in bed a bit before arising, enjoying the splendor of a comfy mattress and the warmth of one of my quilts, while pondering this and that. Clouded daylight, which had dispelled the darkness at least an hour already, spread coolness into the room. I figured it was raining--it was forecast to. I heard it rain during the night.
So I finally shoved myself over the edge and got up on my feet. Out of the bed's clothes and into my own, I turned around, and to my utter astonishment saw snow laden trees, whose branches wept so low they about touched the ground! For a moment, there was weeping all around. I couldn't believe my eyes. This is how the yard looked:
My poor rhododendron was weighted down in a most exasperated gesture, flopped over in utter disbelief. Me too.
I went to the Sheep and Wool anyway, and it turns out to have been the perfect antidote to the weather. In the valleys and points south, the snow had already disappeared, and most of the morning at the festival was enjoyed in a moderate drizzle. Refreshing, really, as it wasn't terribly cold. Not the sort of cold that drives one indoors, at any rate.
The sheep were lovely, the yarns colorful and ever so tempting, the wool so enticing. I snapped a few pics and made a few purchases...
Halls Brook road: Spring green under a winter blanket
I picked up some wool and silk to spin, some yarn with which to make something, a new hand woven towel, a felted needle case, and a small cardinal felt kit
By the time I got home the snow was mostly gone and the rhododendron was it's beautiful self again.
Workmen are coming in the morning to start working on the side entry room. Yes, it's happening!