Inexplicable Knitter Behavior

Before I start in on the wonder that was Harlot-ing, I want to say a word about my day at work.

I don't generally write much about working in the Marketing Department of the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation, because who wants to be dooced? That way trouble (potentially) lies, and even though I like my job and doubt I would say anything worth being fired for, still, I err on the side of caution. Today, though, I would just like to say that today I learned that my In Box is stronger than it looks.


It appears that I do not need to get a stainless steel one after all.

Not that that's all the work on my desk, by the way. In case you were wondering. I have a space above the in box for "soon but not yet" projects. They go into July.


Anyway! Harlot!

When last I wrote (except for the one-line from last night, which did you notice that Stephanie herself commented on this morning, hello, did you see?), I had just made cookies, for the road trip and to give to herself. My mother had recently sent me a knitting-related comic from her local paper, so in a fit of weird craftiness, I taped it to the side of the bag that I put the cookies in. Yeah, I'm not sure why myself. It's a pretty funny cartoon, though. See?


It's very apt. Cookies, card explaining who they were from (and let's not dwell on the possibility that she told me they were good after throwing them away because who knows if I'm loony, which has been bothering me, although I think knitting-rock-stardom is still a small enough world to get away with it, but I don't know), done. Yesterday morning we gathered, visited Dunkin Donuts for the coffee-people, and were on the road.

In Western Mass., we stopped at a scenic overlook that does not welcome vampires.


I think it's a little sad that they're so closed-minded, but perhaps education isn't spreading as much as one thought.

Our original idea had been to get to town in time for a short visit to Webs before lunch and the show, but we got into town around noon, and decided that we'd better go straight to lunch. This turned out to be a good decision, as when we went in here:


there weren't many people there, but as time passed, more and more people came in. In groups. With bags that had yarn and needles showing. And a lot of Ravelry buttons. And, at the next table, oh, look, it's Jess from Ravelry. (I did not Kinnear her.) Knitting really is a small world. Hi, Jess! we all said. We don't know you, but we all love Ravelry! You may go back to eating your lunch now!

That must happen to her a lot, but I bet it's still weird. (At Webs later, I got a button from her: "a daily dose of fiber", which I liked even better than "where your stitches at?")

After lunch (good food, slow service, but the knitters may have caught them unprepared), we went along toward the Calvin.

Spring is coming to Western Mass.


Another store in town taking advantage of the event.

Tragically (for them), although they were open before the show, they were closed afterward, when a thousand knitters were walking right by their door on the way to Webs. It seems a little short-sighted of them, but who knows.


And here we are! I know everyone got this shot, but I just loves it.


My shots inside the theatre turned out ... artistic. Yeah, that's it! This one isn't too bad. It's half an hour before show time.


Check out these light effects!


So no more photos from inside. It was actually rather dim in there. The minute Stephanie came out and was taking her sock pictures, she said, "Are the lights up enough for you to knit?"* And the answer was a resounding, "No!" Unfortunately, it turned out the house lights were up as far as they go. Apparently in a rock and roll theatre, knit-worthy lighting is not the top priority. Go figure. When we rule the world...

*Which was a classic thing to instantly notice, don't you think?

I was not taking down her talk in shorthand or anything, and even if I was I would hardly put it all up, but there were a few that I noted as particularly funny:

• On the subject of the knitting demographic: If you were not knitters, you would not be caught dead with some of these people.
• knitting as artificially generated patience
• relaxation items such as "worry beads, rosaries, and knitting"
• When asked how she feels about the storm she unleashes on yarn producers (aka "Harlotting") when she recommends something and the flock rushes to order it, she said that she now does not post about something without sending a message to the person first. She said she'll be posting about something soon, once she hears back from the producer to whom she sent a one-word message: "Incoming."
  

It was hilarious and entertaining and by all means, go see her if at all possible. If I was artistic, I would create a t-shirt that we repeat offenders could wear, with "Harlot-Head" or "Harloteer" on it. If anyone else likes the idea and has the skill, go ahead, and let me know where to get one. Kthanx.

On the way out afterward, I saw one of the posters for an upcoming event that seemed to contrast with what I'd just been seeing:


"Oh, yeah, I love seeing shows at the Calvin! I just saw the Yarn Harlot, and next month it's the Electric Prunes!"

Then there was this poster down the street. I'd heard about this movie, a documentary, on the radio more than once, but of course the radio doesn't show you the poster, particularly apt that day:


Spring, remember?


One of the funniest parts of the walk was the reaction of locals to the tide of knitters walking down the street. How do you even explain? Soon, we were there:


When you look up and see alpacas (possibly) on top of the shelves, you are home.


Webs is overwhelming. I had heard, but you really do have to see it. The front looks like a really large and really, really well-stocked, but not insane, yarn shop, and then you look in the back room, or should I say warehouse?

Do you see the scale hanging in the middle? I'll take three pounds of peas, a pound of apples, and 500 grams of baby alpaca, please.


I had found one or two* gadgets that I wanted, and some sock yarn, but I could feel myself getting overwhelmed, and decided to get in the signing line and try not to hyperventilate.

*okay, two, but I can't find a picture of the particular needle gauge I bought

Which was harder when the line went by this stuff, in what looked like shoe boxes, that felt like petting clouds. OMG. Soft!


While I was in line, I noticed that a woman ahead of me seemed to be crocheting around a cut-out piece of a beer can. No seriously, she was. I Kinneared her doing it.


(By the way: Kinnear? Is totally in the Urban Dictionary. There are no limits to Stephanie's power. Now she's coining words.)

Do you know who it turned out to be? Stitchy McYarnpants. It seems she's making a costume for someone in a drag pageant. She had Stephanie sign the piece she was working on.


Finally, it was my turn. I handed over the bag and said that last time I saw her, I brought her chocolate, but this time I made cookies. She said, "Really?" in a rather intense way, and I said yes. She told me that with the bottle of beer that someone else brought, she now had breakfast, since she was leaving the next morning before the hotel started serving breakfast (at 7 AM. Ugh!). She signed my book, and that was it.

Well, except for waiting in line to pay, which I wish I had thought to do before. Overall, Webs did a fantastic job with the entire event, but just at the end, when I was getting really tired of being on my feet ... they split the line into two, which would be fine, except that one side had one register and the other had two. I stood there watching person after person after person who had been behind me (ten before I stopped counting out of sheer depression) paid and left, while I Just Stood There. Sigh. Still, they did a great job, and I don't want to nitpick too much. Just a little.

On the way back to the car, I had to capture this for you.


I think of Noho as pretty much a cultured, progressive place, but they do have a range, don't they?

We decided to get dinner before leaving town, and picked a Thai place we saw on the way back to the car. My companions got Thai iced coffee, which was so pretty:


And my plate included a carrot flower, which was pretty and tasted good, too.


In the parking lot, I saw a bumper sticker I haven't seen since I was a kid.


Does anyone else remember the Bear Necessities store in Faneuil Hall?

Oh, and I said "sock yarn", didn't I? I snapped its picture tonight, although the color doesn't look fully true to me. In addition to the blues and greens, there's some purple, too. It's pretty.


I look forward to playing with it, someday. Although I got about four inches of the second Banish February sock done yesterday, I have a ways to go, and other projects, too. But who knows?

Now, it's late, Harold is snoring, and I must get to bed. I wanted to get this done tonight, while it was still fresh, while I remembered seeing the black-and-white cows on the way home (black on each end, white in the middle, totally cows by committee), and because tomorrow night I'll be out playing with almost-nine-month-old twins. Busy, busy!