Dixon Lambtown

I seem to be on the wool trail through the towns in California. It's been a great journey of discovery, enchantment, and affirmation. Knitters and fiber folk are really genuine and kind people. They are always willing to talk to someone just starting out. They are generous in sharing their knowledge, and theirs is a labor of love. The fiber people at Lambtown are intimately involved with the fleece and fiber that they sell. It comes from their flock of sheep or alpacas. (When I finally spin up my roving of California Red sheep, I have a little pic of the red lamb that was given me when I bought the wool.)  But I digress. We are in Dixon to try to break the Knitting World Record attempt. The organizers hope to gather 1200 knitters in the Arena to knit for 15 minutes. We've been briefed that 1147 people in Roscommon, Ireland hold the record. Then minutes before we take to the bleachers, rumors start to circulate that the record was broken in April by more than 3000 knitters ... somewhere. People leave for the Outlet Malls. (Hope they aren't as faint hearted on Election Day!) But we few who remain--we noble few-- take to the seats under the blazing sun to work on wool and our tans. The women behind me are from Merced, and a coworker of mine (!) is seated on the row below. To the left a young woman has taught her boyfriend (my guess) how to knit and he keeps working on his swatch. After two head counts and some rousing cheers for the benefit of the local news, we're ... knitting! We're 2 minutes in. (That's all!?) Then it's the half-way point. (Only 7.5 minutes to go.) It's Hot. No breeze nor cloud in the sky.  (Five Minutes! Must stop to drink water, but I'll be disqualified if I stop knitting.) And then the crowd is counting down ... to ... one. (Done!) Needles down! So we didn't break any records, but it was fun, and there is always next year when we can try again to break the record.