Saturday, March 26, 2005

birdbrained

With my RibbyCardi sleeves on their last few inches, I see rigorous blocking ahead. I usually wait till I've got the whole sweater finished & sewn, then do a light block. But look at this, if my arms were Olive Oyl's, or, say, the size of your average banana, I'd be fine.
ribbicardibana
I'm trying to be all zen about having to wait out the blocked pieces drying, and appreciate the process. But really? I want something new on the needles. I've been ogling yarn online. I was in the mood for a real yarn store. I figured I'd head out with my boys in the afternoon , and work a yarn shop into the day.

I know better than to tell 11 & 14 year old guys that's what the day holds.

I had a Plan.
It started with outdoor activity, y'know, for getting out ya-ya's.

    Then the Plan kicked in. Admire my brilliance if you can.

  1. Feeding - we go eat at a cafe that just happens to be located on the same block as a yarn store and an exotic bird store. A subdivision of Feeding is Bribery, and this cafe just happens to sell old-fashioned candy like those multicolored buttons on paper. I will sink this low to insure myself some time undisturbed in the yarn store. Check, lunches eaten, candy puchased, all goes flawlessly. I am thinking I have a good hour ahead in the yarn store. Undisturbed.

  2. Diversion- we are suckers for animals. The guys run into the bird store, I head for the yarn store. Its more crowded than I'd hoped. I spend 10 minutes looking over the sale stuff, and have just settled in front of a wall of unaffordable but beautiful Mountain Colors and Collinette. I can finally see true-life hues, on touchable fibers, not the monitor version.........and then I hear it. Commotion by the front of the store. I try not to look. "Mom, Mom, Ma, you gotta come " - they're jostling each other and the cluster of knitters by the table. They get louder. By now everyone is swiveling their heads around to find the parent of these hoodlums disturbing the knitterly peace. "You gotta come, they're GIVING AWAY DOVES" . I reply in my best knitting store whisper " No! no more pets, especially not doves." Which only makes them repeat louder. By now one of the store owners has joined us , eyeing the 11 year old's hand clenching a strip of candy buttons in a sticky looking way. "No really Mom, you gotta see them, they're FREE, we'll take care of them, C'MON you have to come, DOVES...FOR FREE!"

Next door, I find this weird training session going on. We go home. No yarn.
Also, no doves.birdleash

1 comment:

Bookish Wendy said...

Hi Gale,

I wandered over here from Heidi's (Step into my Thimble.) I grew up in the Rochester area as well! Where are you from?