Saratoga Springs, New York: Home of the Embellished and Ornate Doorway. Even though I felt like a stalking paparazzo, I couldn’t stop myself sidling up the front steps of every tax lawyer and cigar shop and synagogue and studying the furbelows on their doors. Where I come from [The Midwest, U.S.A.] a door is a thing that keeps the snow from piling up in your kitchen and the neighbors’ dogs from coming in. Nobody there (or here, either) would imagine a fanciful doorway like these late-19th century stunners anymore. Arches and marble pillars and richly detailed carvings cost extra, and what practical, fourth-generation farmer spends a nickel he doesn’t have to spend? Who puts a stained-glass window in the lawnmower shed? (Well, I would, and you might, too, but city planners would probably not sign off on it anymore for a public building). So much to gawk at, just strolling around. A city built for Victorian-age tourists. We ate gyros in hidden side-street cafes, sipped sulfurous water from antique, spring-fed fountains, bought coffee that tasted hand-crafted. Walked for miles. We slept like logs.
Of course I found a yarn shop.
That’s two huge skeins of Great Adirondack Merino, fingering weight, in [perfect, perfect] “clay”. This is the color of my dreams. There are over 2,000 yards here, ohmygoodness. I don’t know what to make, but the search will be great fun. I think I want a long, fine-gauge cardigan, maybe 3/4 sleeves, for fall. What would you make with this?
