It’s not the first time I’ve been into something – how should I say this? – different.
When I was little, I loved the pioneers. I learned everything possible about Laura Ingalls and the Oregon Trail, and I was convinced that I would have an electricity-free farm when I grew up. (That dream’s morphed a little, thank goodness.)
I had chickens before it was cool.
I wore leggings LONG before it was cool. (Imagine this: black stirrup pants over white socks and an assortment of sneakers. Pretty hot.)
These days, what I’m into still gets a little flack. Teasing from various gentlemen who don’t know the joys of a warm sweater knit with love. I’ve been called a hipster for knitting, to which I respond:
Please, I’ve been doing this since I was five, WAY before it was the hipster thing to do.
That of course seems to solidify said-hipsterness. I do not understand how to combat this problem.
Last fall, my friend M and I went to a Fiber Festival. No, it was not a warehouse full of various digestion-boosting devices, small group friends. It was a warehouse full of yarn and yarn potentials. There was sheep, alpaca, bison, hemp, you name it. There were more colors than you could imagine, and there was undyed roving waiting to be made into art (roving is the clean, un-spun wool).
M bought me a drop spindle and some roving to get me started. I’ve wanted to spin since I saw a woman doing it in the sheep barn at the fair. Since getting my gift, I’ve attempted it a few times, sitting on the couch in front of my family and nearly hurling the innocent spindle across the room. I think I need to sign up for a class…
Despite my frustrations with the drop spindle, that festival got us addicted to yarn extravaganzas. Yesterday, we donned our best-knit pieces and trekked out on the Fifth Annual Yarn Crawl.
What’s a yarn crawl?
A yarn crawl is a weekend-long event where the shops in the area have special deals. You get a “passport,” and at each shop you get a stamp which enters you to win a raffle. (One prize was a beautiful afghan pattern and all the yarn to go with it. MUST HAVE IT.) We had seven shops to descend upon, so we made a route, starting up north and ending near the sea. I went with my ravelry pattern in hand, a few ideas in my head, but really, the yarn world was my oyster.
[If you haven’t checked out ravelry.com yet, do it. So many patterns, so many ideas. Lots of free stuff.]
We started the trip off right with chai tea lattes and a 50%-off rack.
After a full day of crawling, this is what I came home with:
I could’ve bought a lot more. I was restraining myself. I admire M’s wisdom when she says:
There are some things I will not feel bad about spending money on: books and yarn.
I would add tea and coffee to that list, but that’s me.
We talked about how “good thing people we know are having babies so we have more opportunities to make cute things.”
Get crackin’, people, so I can get knittin’.
This is my next project. I am working under the assumption that my dear friend never reads this blog and will therefore still be surprised when she opens it for the darling.
If she does for some reason see this post, pretend, by all means.