Gentle Spiders,
Those of you headed for Denver and for Greet's Liers lace workshop have
a great treat in store (those of you who are not headed for that
workshop, check out her exhibition piece made especially for the
occasion - Mountains of Lace. It's lovely). Greet is a wonderful
teacher: full of fun and enthusiasm and also full of knowledge and
helpful tips.
I've always wanted to learn tambour lace - I love the gentleness and
the flowing lines of it - but my dislike of the needle stopped me from
trying the Limerick version of it, and there's not much printed
material on the Coggeshall version. I've tried teaching myself
Coggeshall from the one booklet someone on Arachne sent me, but didn't
get very far, especially with the tambour hook being definitely
different (and lethal, IMO ) from an ordinary crochet hook. A
workshop was indicated, but I couldn't find one anywhere near.
So when Liers workshop surfaced within 250 miles (Harrisburg,
Pennsylvania), it was a heaven sent opportunity; one I found hard to
refuse. I'd driven farther (to Ithaca) for a 2.5 day workshop, and this
one was full 3 days. To make the deal even sweeter, Robin, with whom I
had roomed in the past in Ithaca, decided to fly in for it (all the way
from Los Angeles) - we could room together again, and it would be like
the old times, before she moved from Pittsburgh (Pennsylvania) to
California.
Truth to tell, I started the trip with "my soul on my shoulder" (and
ready to fly. Which is the Polish way of saying I was scared rigid
).
I've always heard that Belgians were hard taskmasters (Greet is from
Belgium), and the list of things we were to bring with us had "good
humour" on it, which only confirmed my fears; you don't ask for
something if it's not likely to be needed...
Then too, other than Robin, I didn't know anyone likely to be in the
class (organised by the Keystone Lace Guild); by going to the OIDFA
Congresss in Prague last summer, I had cut myself off from the one IOLI
Convention that was almost on my doorstep.
And then there was the drive itself. I *had* driven as far and even
farther before, true. But never to Harrisburg. And driving in unknown
cities scares me even more than driving on the highway.
But those gently flowing lines... :)
So I went, and, with the help of Yahoo driving directions, made it in
one piece to the motel where Robin had reserved a room for us. She and
a friend she'd picked up in Pittsburgh arrived a few minutes after me
(a hotel bill looks better when divided by 3, than when divided by 2
). So now I would have two familiar faces the next day instead of
just one.
We got to the hotel where the workshop was held bright and early the
next morning, and I found two more familiar faces :) Carol Lee, who had
been in my Rosalibre class in Ithaca the last October was there and
Jeri (Ames) had driven all the way from Maine... And the ones I have
not met before (including Deb Bender, who had organised - superbly -
the whole thing) were very friendly to the stranger in their midst. So
that fear was laid to rest. The last fear disappeared when I met
Greet... She requested "good humour" not because she was a slave
driver, but simply because she likes to be in company of people as good
humoured as she is herself :)
We had pre-ordered our frames and they were waiting for us, with two of
the fabric pieces already attached. Greet distributed the rest of the
materials - the book, the tulle, the threads (3 different sizes) and
the hooks, and told us how to attach the tulle to the fabric (the two
pieces already on the frame and the pieces we were asked to bring with
us). It quickly became apparent why the workshop had to be at least 3
days long... :) Almost half the day was spent running the straight
lines through the tulle to mark the direction of "grain", attaching the
tulle to the fabric and then setting up the whole thing, "just so"...
Worse than having to pre-prick the pattern and to wind the bobbins, if
you ask me... But Greet reassured me that this was the only time
I'd have to use the needle, and that the piece we attached would last
us through the entire class and then some.
There ended the easy part :)
Greet had made a demonstration "tool" - a piece of plexiglass, with big
holes drilled in it in a row - and each of us got a shot at practicing
the start of the chain, with a big crochet hook and a ball of thick
string. I've watched several people do it, then tried it myself and,
somewhere on the 5th hole or so, "got it". Or so I thought.
Went back to my frame, and tried to replicate what I'd learnt... No
way, Jose... :) On the plexi, there was just one row of holes; on the
tulle, there was a whole *sea* of them ("of course I'm afraid of the
hankie, said the little goat; it has four horns and I have only two" -
to use a childhood poem). And they all went in peculiar directions (60
degree angles). I was immediately reminded of all
