Craft Camp Day 4: Rainbow at Sunset

Today ended with a spectacular rainbow. It was brightly coloured with a high arch. First, I looked west and saw a night red sky. Red sky at night, sailor’s delight. Then I turned the other direction and saw the spectacular rainbow reaching across the field and trees.

I was coming out of a movie, “Keepers of the Loom.”  I expected it to be about women preserving craft traditions. It was more about the wartime exodus, the hardships of setting up a home as a refugee or displaced person, as many post-war settlers were called, and maintaining community than of the crafts themselves. It was produced by the Toronto Estonian Society, so many featured in the film immigrated to Toronto, or were children/grandchildren of immigrants.

Today's workshop was finger gloves, and techniques. I took the class because I'm afraid of gloves, thinking them as finicky. I told myself that many toys are more finicky, so I should get over my fear.

As always, Kristi’s technique is unparalleled. Nevertheless, my final project is best worn by someone with amputated fingertips and exceptionally broad hands. One other woman called hers an udder warmer. I chose to make short fingers because I wanted to practice separating and starting fingers, as well as trying out various ways of creating the fingertips.

Tomorrow, I'm working on a fine lace shawl. The leaders of that workshop have projects at various stages, since the understand that we can't do much during a five hour workshop. I was very very relieved to hear that we don't have to do it all from scratch.

Have I told you about the resident stork on the school grounds?  There's a nest atop a smokestack by the dining hall, and we can see two birds in it. Sometimes we see one on the grounds, in the playing field (soccer pitch?) or the ornamental lawn by the school (on the other side of the avenue of trees from the dorms).

Walking back from dinner this evening, some Swedes said a few years ago, they put on a new roof, and just after the finished, a pair of storks arrived. The woman came home, and her first thought was “how romantic.”  Then the noise of their heavy footsteps started. Next it was stains from their waste. These took an entire winter of rain to wash away. Needless to say, they were relieved when the storks moved on a week later, and they have been glad there have been no return visits.

They said these storks winter in Uganda, though they look smaller than the ones that Anita and I saw in Jinja. Storks are pretty, but I don't want to get too close.