My Grama was a hard working farm wife with four boys on Manitoulin Island. I was born on her birthday.
I lived next door on the farm for my first seven years. Grama’s kitchen smelled like homemade bread and sometimes I could ring the dinner bell for Grampa. Grama and I would sit side by side in the easy chair in the living room and giggle about it being a tighter fit as I got bigger. When I asked her how old she was, she always said, “Oh, about a hundred”. She and I would go to her flower garden at the side of the house and admire her Dahlias and her beloved yellow rose.
The colors of this yarn made me think of her.
Yarn Stories by the dyers’ daughter, Emily Hurley
Occasionally my daughter, Emily, is inspired by a yarn and she writes a story…
Brea @brediculousyarns has been working hard!
Hmmm? Oh, the yarn? Yes, the yarn is stunning, but that was the easy part!
To make the yarn she first needed the formula. What formula? Oh my, you really don’t know, do you? Ok, take a seat and I’ll tell you all about it. The stout old man sits in his favorite chair, and motions for you to sit as well.
“You see,” the man started, “That yarn is rainbow. Not rainbow colored. Actual rainbow. Now, most folks don’t realize that from time to time when the moon and stars are just right, when a frog finally gets that kiss, and when the sun is in its happy place, that you can harvest a piece of the rainbow. How?”
With a twinkle in his eye, the wise man grins. “Not easily, I’ll tell you that much. First, you must find a fairy Elder from the Elderberry clan. They are usually in Wisconsin this time of year. The fairy elder will give you a scroll which you must take to Renalda the Mountain Troll to be translated, and also a piece of aged cheddar.
Now Renalda usually resides atop Mount Machu Picchu, but she’s currently on Everest with Renaldo the elf. Renalda translates the scroll to reveal an ancient Mac and cheese recipe. That’s not important for the rainbow, it’s just delicious.
Next Renaldo uses the cheese to appease Woody the water nymph, I never did understand his name. Anyway, I’ll summarize the rest.
Woody makes the rain stop, which angers the pixies, they fight with Eloise the unicorn who gets Bobby the Mermaid to tell Poseidon to make Woody stop, and when he doesn’t, Poseidon reveals Larry the Leprechaun’s location.
Woody brings back the rain and Larry goes back to his wife, Helga the Dragon who gives you a pouch full of pure rainbow essence. That rainbow essence can then be used for many things including making the gorgeous yarn you see here.
So you see, Brea @brediculousyarns went to great lengths to bring you this yarn. I’d suggest you say thank you, and buy yours before it’s all gone.”
The wise old man smiles gently as he escorts you to the door.
“Thanks for coming by, and if you happen to see a dragon nearby, you never saw me.”
“It was October of 1957. Dwight D. Eisenhower was President, gas was 24 cents a gallon and racial integration had finally happened in that Arkansas high school. Man, that Governor Orval was a stubborn son of a gun.”
“No, you’re telling it wrong, Howard.”
“I most certainly am not, Edna. Now you just mind your business, I’m talking to the grandchild.” Howard smirks at Ella.
“Now don’t you listen to him, Ella.” Edna puts the mixing bowl in front of Ella and instructs her to mix the contents. “It was November, not October, of 1957. The Soviets had just launched Sputnik 2 into space, and this was the first time an animal was put into space.” Ella nods, listening intently. “It was a cat named Laika. Oh, and Elvis’ Jailhouse Rock had just come out.” Edna stops for a moment. Staring into space.
“Stop drooling, Edna!” Howard says with a chuckle, startling Edna out of her daydream. “Jailhouse Rock came out in September, not November, and it was a dog in space, not a cat. Good gracious, what good would a cat be in space? The shuttle would come back smelling like ammonia and scratched all to h…”
“Howard! Watch your language would you?”Edna snapped.
“You’re right, it’s was a dog, not a cat.” She admits, getting back to her baking.
“Well, that’s not the point of the story anyway, Edna.”
“What is the point of the story, Granddad?” Ella inquired, getting more confused by the moment.
“Your grandmother makes a great blueberry cheesecake.” Ella and Edna both laugh.” What?”
“Oh, well that was when I met your grandmother. You see she was volunteering at the church bake sale. They were raising money for a new family that had just moved to town, and were a little down on their luck.”
“I see.” Ella states, still puzzled. “So she made a blueberry cheesecake for the bake sale and let me guess. The story goes that it was so good you kept buying more pieces and that’s how you two started talking and it was love at first bite? Right? Granddad this sounds like a cheesy soap opera.”
“Goodness no! Her cheesecake was terrible!”. He snickered as his wife playfully slapped him with an oven mitt.
“What I meant to say, was that she makes a great blueberry cheesecake now. Back then it was so bad no one bought a single piece.” He moves to protect himself from another blow from the oven mitt, but instead just gets a dirty look from Edna as she stands at the counter.
“You are over exaggerating Howard. My cheesecake was not that bad! I sold one piece and then someone came and bought the whole pan.”
“Yes, I know. I gave my friend Bill $3 to go buy the whole pan before you embarrassed yourself.”
Edna begins to chuckle, suddenly bursting into a fit of laughter as she has a realization. “That explains so much! Right after I sold the cheesecake a young man came up asking if there was any left. When I told him I just sold the last piece he said that it probably was just as well and that he probably dodged a bullet!”
“Yes, that’s how we met!”. The three laughed and laughed until their sides hurt and they couldn’t laugh anymore. “Contain yourselves.” Edna insisted, still giggling herself. “Now get your coats on. We’re going to be late for the bake sale.”
As they head out the door, Edna carrying the famed cheesecake, Howard hands Ella three dollars. “Just in case.” He grins.
“They were only 5 years old, sweet and innocent on that fateful day.
He was fishing with his dad, and she was with her mom taking in the sights and smells as they walked along the weathered boards of the wharf.
He caught his first fish just as she and her mom reached the edge of the wharf. He was so excited watching his dad take the fish and examine it, saying it “This one’s a keeper. Good job buddy!” and high-fiving the boy.
Seeing the fish about to be put in their cooler the girl panicked. Running away from her mom she began shouting at the little boy and his father. “You’re going to throw that back, right?! You can’t kill him!” she screamed.
Her mother rushed to her side and began apologizing to the pair.
Seeing a small tear run down the little girls face the boy turned to his father and whispered to him. Nodding, the father opened the cooler as the boy took out the fish and presented it to the girl. “Look! We won’t kill the fish! Dad says we can put it back, want to help?”. Wiping away her tear the girl smiled, “Okay.”
Together they held the fish and let it gently slide off their hands and down into the water below. The little boy looked at the girl who had a small smile starting to grace her delicate face, and he took off running down the wharf.
He ran off the wharf and past the bait shop, disappearing for a moment only to return to the wharf a moment later with a handful of wild buttercups in his hand. “Here,” he says, handing the bright wild flowers to the girl. “My name is Bobby. What’s yours?”. Smelling the flowers the little girl looked up with a grin. “I’m Sophie! Want to go play?”.
The children gazed up at their parents for approval, and with a smile and a nod, off they ran to start a new adventure together. Their parents laughing with each other knowing that this was the beginning of a great story.”
“Crisp morning air flows through the bay, with a hint of seaweed on its breath. Seagulls circle the wharf, scavenging for scraps strewn from the fisherman’s latest catch.”
“A feature in so many memories, the sturdy old barn stands strong atop the emerald hill.
Inside, a solid wooden post stands etched with initials of lovers past, and the hayloft is awake with the soft purrs of generations of hidden kittens.”
A “Troubled Mermaid” lives in the Enchanted Swamp….
“Enchanted sapphire water ripples between the singing cattails. Fragile fairies flutter upon the emerald lily pads as the golden locks of the mermaid maidens glimmer below the surface.”
“Dahlias were his wife’s favorite. He would give her this intricate flower any chance he could because he loved the way it made her smile.
Over the years, through 6 children and 10 great grandchildren, the gesture never grew old. She smiled the same dazzling quiet smile every time he presented her with yet another gifted bloom.
It brings a somber smile to the elderly man as he kneels and places the bouquet of Dahlias at her grave.
The sun is fading in the distance as he whispers “I brought you Dahlias, my love. I wish I could see your smile”.