Monday, July 28, 2008

It was a dark and stormy night...

On Saturday, I got an email from one of my friends along the lines of "Ack! The wedding's in three weeks, what are you getting them?!" To which my reaction was, "Ack! I have no idea! I wonder if I have time to knit dish cloths?"

So, I'm thinking, three weeks, four dish cloths - I already have cotton yarn on hand, so this should be easy! (Thinking that something is going to be easy is usually a nice bit of ironic foreshadowing. I should have known better.) I pulled out the yarn, and went to find needles. Now, I'm pretty sure I own at least one size 7 circular, since I've made dish cloths before, but I couldn't find one for the life of me. I checked the needle stash. I tossed the yarn dresser and the yarn closet. I went through all of the bags in which I'd stuck yarn while traveling at any point in the past few months. No needles.

Okay, the needle situation can be rectified. It just means a trip to my LYS. I had errands to run on Sunday after church anyway, so I just added the LYS to my list (it wasn't even out of my way). Sunday afternoon a thunderstorm rolled through (the only part of the story that was literally dark and stormy), which made it hard to do what I probably should have done.

What I should have done was written down on a sticky note the size and kind of needles I wanted, flagged down some passerby, given them the sticky note and a twenty, and told them they could keep the change if they went in and got the needles for me. That's what I should have done. But did I? No. Of course not.

No, I thought to myself, "It's just needles. I won't even fondle any yarn. I can be strong." In short, I lied to myself. Although, to be fair, I did make it to the needle wall and pick out what I needed without fondling any yarn, but somewhere between there and the cash register, I was overcome by wool fumes. It's the only explanation for how I went in just for needles and came out with these:

Watershed, by the Neighborhood Fiber Co. in Truxton Circle (the colorway). It's a wool/seacell blend that's fantastically soft. And given that I have a distinct fascination with seacell (I love the way it smells like the ocean still), a love of all things purple, and a weakness for local dyers, I suppose I had zero chance of making it out of the shop without this.

Penthouse Silk Lace, also by the Neighborhood Fiber Co. in Randle Circle. It's a two-ply lace-weight in 100% silk and one of the softest things I've ever touched. Plus I absolutely adore the silvery-blue colors and the way it seems to shimmer, even in the hank. When I touched this yarn, I couldn't help but dream about how wonderful a silk stole this would make and how fantastic it would feel on bare arms and shoulders. And I knew that if I didn't get it, someone else would, and I would be plagued with doubt and regret.

But first, I should probably go work on those dish cloths...

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hey, you bought bribery yarn! I do that all the time. Put it right near where you're working on those dishcloths, and every once in a while, reach over and stroke it. That'll help you get through the cotton faster.