Library 77: Huntington Public Library

Planet Huntington.

Library 77! The Huntington Public Library was the 77th stop on my quest to read, write, and knit in as many of Vermont’s public libraries as I can during my sabbatical.

• I read: a test knit group chat

• I wrote: an email

• I knit: a Lindal Sweater by Ona Woldten in yarn by Junction Fiber Mill

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I visited this library on May 20, 2024.

I visited this library on a Saturday during LEGO club, so there were cookies and tea. It was a nice day outside and the kids didn’t show, so I sat and chatted with Don for a while and ate most of the cookies.

When Don moved to Vermont in the 80s, the library was in an old small building down the road, and this building we were chatting in was a church. It has high, grand ceilings and a choir loft. Many of the bookshelves are on wheels so the room can be used for events. One of these events is a Don original called “Planet Huntington” where people in town who have recently travelled are invited to share stories and photos in an hour or less.

I appreciate the “an hour or less.” When I presented my entire doctoral dissertation to my advisory committee, they gave me 20 minutes. The limit felt tragic. In retrospect, no one needed to listen to me talk about that for more than 20 minutes. But a slideshow about my neighbor’s trip to Bhutan? I’d listen to that for four hours. I do understand the value of time limits, however. Every once in a while I have to catch myself when I’m talking about things I’m passionate about and ask my listener: “Am I informing you against your will?” This is a strategy I learned from my uncle, because telling runs in the family.

Don told me there is a giant bell in the building, but because it’s a small town, people start asking questions if it goes off without warning. Also, when it is time to ring the bell, the ringer can get showered in mouse poop. It doesn’t ring often.

While we were having tea, Alison came in with her grandkid and I introduced her to Hen Solo and Chewbwacca. She’s heard about the library project and said “Do you want to come see a lot of yarn!?”

I hope my answer to this question is always “absolutely,” sabbatical or not.

After she offered to take a photo of me knitting in a leather arm chair (thanks, Alison!), we walked across the street to her weaving studio. We walked through the crab apple trees at peak bloom, full of chestnut-sided warblers and chipping sparrows and a Baltimore Oriole. We walked through a gas station parking lot, full of Vermonters.

What a privilege it is to visit an artist’s studio. I love seeing stashes and messes. I love seeing piles of ideas. I love the visible personality of an art studio. Yarn: everywhere. Alison was weaving a blanket with eight strands of yarn held together (or whatever the weaving equivalent of holding yarn together is), and gave me a tour of treasures in the studio: a hand-knit sweater, multiple looms, leg molds from her grandfather’s stocking factory, a felt tapestry.

So many artists in the world, hiding in plain sight. Libraries are a good place to go looking if you want to find one.

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