By Kelly Grotzinger
We are all mortal. We all have stash. We don't all have family or friends who are as into fiber as we. At the March meeting of CPGH I showed three twill lap blankets, the weft for which comprised 200 +/- skeins of hand spun wool/llama. Yes, a lot of handspun yarn. The blankets were not special because of the weaving, the weaver (ahem), or the use of the handspun, but because the yarn came from the dispersal via public auction of the estate of Cynthia Spayd outside of Hamburg PA. Ms Spayd died unexpectedly at 62 in October 2017. On the coldest day in January 2018 (0 degrees F at 8 AM at an open air on-site auction), the lifetime contents of books, fleece, cone and skein yarn, thread, tape and floor looms, spinning wheels, carders, et cetera were sold. There were no small number of containers, tubs and cardboard boxes of fleece, handspun wool, and weaving thread. And, there evidently was no family to share her passions. Obviously I was fortunate to purchase handspun, thread, yarn, and even some fleece. No I did not know Ms. Spayd; I had no knowledge of her interest in fiber; I went to the sale following the lure of weaving yarn and books. However, I wove the blankets to honor her and her fiber 'legacy' and to acknowledge our shared mortality, stash, and commitment to fiber and weaving.
We are all mortal. We all have stash. We don't all have family or friends who are as into fiber as we. At the March meeting of CPGH I showed three twill lap blankets, the weft for which comprised 200 +/- skeins of hand spun wool/llama. Yes, a lot of handspun yarn. The blankets were not special because of the weaving, the weaver (ahem), or the use of the handspun, but because the yarn came from the dispersal via public auction of the estate of Cynthia Spayd outside of Hamburg PA. Ms Spayd died unexpectedly at 62 in October 2017. On the coldest day in January 2018 (0 degrees F at 8 AM at an open air on-site auction), the lifetime contents of books, fleece, cone and skein yarn, thread, tape and floor looms, spinning wheels, carders, et cetera were sold. There were no small number of containers, tubs and cardboard boxes of fleece, handspun wool, and weaving thread. And, there evidently was no family to share her passions. Obviously I was fortunate to purchase handspun, thread, yarn, and even some fleece. No I did not know Ms. Spayd; I had no knowledge of her interest in fiber; I went to the sale following the lure of weaving yarn and books. However, I wove the blankets to honor her and her fiber 'legacy' and to acknowledge our shared mortality, stash, and commitment to fiber and weaving.
