Friends, I think I accidentally started a cult.   Ok , ok, I accidentally-on-purpose started a cult.  I couldn’t help myself.  Suffice it to say that silly titles are popping up all over the place, there are some chants in the works, pilgrimages are being charted, and some menu planning is afoot.   Perhaps we should get to documenting the Prophecies of the Yarniverse . . .  Most importantly, the Cult spawned a charity arm within a few days of inception.  Ok, that actaully makes me proud.  In short, make up a silly name for yourself, chip in to one of the good causes we’re trying to support, and you’re laughing.  And wearing a "Priestess of the Yarniverse" shirt. 

Friday, I went to Uniquities at lunchtime with a few of the Wednesday night knitters.  I got samples of possible yarns for a sweater for Scott.  Wanna guess which one he picked?  Well, he picked the darkest one, of course.  Dark enough that it’s not really worth photographing.   Imagine the following: navy aran weight yarn.  Right, you’ve got it.  The others will join the afghan project that’s percolating in my brain. 

Saturday, Jill and I went to Yarns International.  I don’t know how I managed to stay away from this shop for so long.  Now that I’ve been there, I may need to see what they would charge me for a cot in the back.  So much Jameison’s yarn!  Such beautiful designs!  Such a friendly staff!  I was blown away.  I am now going to beg them to come to the Potomac Celtic Festival as vendors, encourage them to make some sweaters or other things to sell in addition to their regular stock of yarn and books, and perhaps to arrange some classes sponsored or co-sponsored by the festival.  Wish me luck.  Luck paying my mortgage, if nothing else.  Mmmmmmm, Shetland.   In all seriousness, I’ve never encountered a shop where I felt more immediately at home.  And that’s saying something, because I’ve been to some really great, welcoming shops.

Sunday, my Mom and I went on the Countryside Artisans Tour.  We originally learned of the tour because our girl Virginia, potter to the Celts, joined it a few years ago.   Now that she has moved to West-by-god-Virginny, we really missed our favorite place to stop.  Sigh.  Year in and year out for quite some time now I’ve been able to do most of my holiday shopping at my friend’s house, buying pots from VA and jewelry and art from Mary, and then chatting with our other friends as they stopped by to shop and pet the dogs and have some cider.  Damn, I missed that.  I know that I’ll get a chance to see both Virginia and Mary at the Richmond Celtic Festival, but the likelihood of getting to monopolize their time will decrease.  It leaves me no option other than kidnapping them. 

We placated ourselves by buying this lovely yarn for me:

And ordering a boatload of yarn dyed in each the blue and green from Annie at Kiparoo.  Which spawned the best sentence of the day, courtesy of Annie’s lovely assistant: "I’m going to give you these patterns for free, because you’re spending like $10,000.*"  I’d never made it out there before, and I am enchanted.  Her colors are gorgeous, and the yarn her sheep produce is so lustrous and soft.  There are two sweaters in the works for my Mom and me–my guess is that they’ll ultimately be traded back and  forth.  After Kiparoo, we went to Dancing Leaf Farm, which was fantastic as usual.  I have never seen anyone handle yarn display and kit design as well as Dalis does.  She is such an artist.  And she had the long Peace Fleece DPNs on sale, which makes her shop even better. 

And then we went to the Blacksmith’s shop, and I lost my durn mind when I saw this:


And these:

Woah, nelly, am I having good basket luck lately.  But I will not start making baskets, oh, no.  These babies are coming from minds very different from the one in my noggin, and I’m just going to hand over the cash and enjoy.  I’m keeping the one with the naturally-shed antler, of course.  I don’t know where the others are going yet.  Loverly.  Hatcha. 

As if trips to so many wonderful yarn shops and a day spent exploring the Maryland countryside wasn’t enough, this weekend I did something I’ve been meaning to do for a long time.  My friend Jill and I came up with a workable book concept.  Better still, I still think it’s a really good concept even after two full nights of sleeping on it.  The research is underway, and that’s all I’m saying for now.  In the meantime, busy yourself with this: I Am Not Quiet.  It’s my prose poetry-ish essay for Cheaper Than Therapy.  It will grow a link over on the side-bar.  I hope you like it.  Don’t lie and say you wrote it, and all that junk.  Karma’s a bitch. 

*Fellahs, we did not spend $10,000.  That has extra zeros tacked onto the end.  I promise.  We call that hyperbole.  She was really exaggerating a lot. 

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