Saturday, April 16, 2005

The Harlot was in MY LYS!!!!

OK, fearless readers, I apologize. I've been writing blog posts, but literally not having time to post them, so you're about to read several days' worth one after another.


Yesterday, I went to pick my wife up after work, and her eyes were all twinkly. "Love," she informed me, "we have to go to Yarn Forward tomorrow night." never one to resit temptation, I conceded instantly. Then I got suspicious. "Why?" "Because the Yarn Harlot's going to be there. She's doing a book signing."

Please note, at this point, I was not yet driving. This is a good thing, as I instantly grabbed my wife and squealed with joy. Yes, I squealed. I know, such behaviour is reserved for cheerleaders and winners on the Price is Right, but this was HARLOT. Stephanie Frickin Pearl-McPhee was coming to MY LYS.

Of course, we went to Yarn Forward last night too, to buy a copy of the bookbookbook before it sold out. Louise, the lovely lady who takes most of our savings away, and let me put Fleece Artist yarn on layaway, was bouncing up and down, clapping her hands, and squeaking. Louise does not squeal. She makes an adorable and terribly contagious EEEEEEEE noise, but it is NOT squealing.

This morning, the two of us debated what we were going to wear, and exactly how fast we could drive from South Ottawa to West Ottawa without risking speeding tickets. Generally neither of us care much about clothing, barring making sure we don't get fired or arrested, but we knit. And, unfortunately, we give almost everything we knit away. Thus my wife wore everyday clothes, and I wore jeans, a black T shirt, and the Fleece Artist Shawl my wife made.

We arrived at the store almost an hour before Stephanie was due to leave for the Bank Street location of the same store. I've never seen an hour go faster in my life. Stephanie is actually FAR more fun in person than she is in writing...and that's saying something. Moreover, she wasn't scary. I was half expecting to leave in tears, having met greatness and knowing I'd never make it. Instead, I left the store with joy and hope. That lady is amazing.

Better yet, she almost didn't give my wife's shawl BACK. My quiet, reserved, dignified wife was dancing and wiggling her butt around, chanting "Harlot likes my shaaawwwwwl" for the rest of the night.

While we were there, I learned a new pattern, a new way of holding needles, and had books signed for my family and my school club (153 knitters and counting!). Then Stephanie's publisher-lady donated a copy of Running a Teen Knitting Club to the school too! I asked her to sign it. Fair's fair.

A whirlwind hour of fun later, Stephanie left to sign more books at the Bank Street branch of the store. We stuck around, chatted with Louise, and walked out with joy, bookbookbooks and a couple of skeins of black cobweb yarn.

HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY! Forget yearbook!


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