Make New Friends (but remember the old)

Apr6

We’re taking the kids to meet a dog today and I’m nervous. Not that they won’t like each other. Alex and I met the dog yesterday and he’s friendly and charming, and I already know my kids have the potential to be the same. I’m nervous because this is a big commitment. More than the purple hair even. The stakes are higher.

We’ve had dogs before. Our first was when our daughter was a baby, and it didn’t go well for any of us. There just wasn’t enough energy and patience to go around. After that we were cat people…until we determined that same daughter is allergic to cats. By that point, we had two cats. One we had just gotten, and we were able to re-home him with a loving family. Our other cat had been with me for over 15 years, so we dealt with the allergies for a little longer. Once we were cat-free, we bought leather couches and declared ourselves happily pet free. No cat boxes, no dog poop, no fur all over the house! Whee!

Two years ago we got Samson. He was 9. We lost him December 30 of 2013. I’ll tell his story sometime, but not yet. I’m not ready for that yet. Suffice it to say he was the best dog ever, and we realized how much we enjoyed having the company of a furry friend.

We told ourselves we were going to wait before considering another dog. But thanks to animal shelters and dog pictures on Facebook, a dog caught my attention, and I wasn’t sure I really wanted to wait. It would be simpler if we did. Animals need attention and exercise and food and toys and medicine… For a few reasons, we would be better off waiting a few more months before adding to our family. Life isn’t always simple and easy like that, though. Sometimes things happen unexpectedly, good and bad, and you have to roll with them.

This is not going to be a universally popular decision with the extended family. There will be, and have been, people who disagree with our choice. People who think they know better what we need. People who focus on the negative rather than the positive. But even more than the purple hair dissenters, I don’t care, and this time I mean it. I woke up early this morning, excited to go back and see the dog, excited to take the kids to meet him. This feels right to me.

So we’re taking the kids today, and if all goes well, I’ll get to introduce you to our new friend soon.

And remember, if you’re thinking of a pet, please please check your local animal shelters. We’re going to Wayside Waifs today but there are shelters everywhere full of great animals who need a home.

Purple is the color of bravery

Apr4

Purple is my favorite color. It has been as long as I can remember, and by now it is part of my identity. Everybody who knows me at all knows this. It’s not just an “Oh, I kind of like purple” kind of thing. If something can be purple, I want to make it so. I buy purple clothes, purses, jewelry. I have purple shoes and purple cowboy boots. As a teenager, I painted my bedroom dark (very dark) purple. My first brand-new car was a purple Saturn, and when I get my current car paid off, I want to get it custom-painted a glossy royal purple. Most of the yarn I buy is some shade of purple because that’s what calls my name.

A few years ago, I started thinking, “Why not purple hair?”

I never did much with my hair when I was young. It was long and blond, my mother liked it that way, so aside from one disappointing perm when I was 14, I left it alone for a long time. When I went away to college, I felt free enough to experiment a couple of times with box dye, but I was the only one who could tell a difference. I was never bold enough to do something drastic…until I cut it all off.

I got a chin-length bob my senior year in college, and loved it. Nope, my mom didn’t love it, and maybe I would have liked her to pretend, but it didn’t change how I felt about it. And I knew it didn’t change how she felt about me. After that, I experimented with my hair quite often. Since then I’ve been through so many different hairstyles, I can’t count. I did super short, a la Halle Berry. (Sadly, I did not look as good as Halle Berry.) I had an oddly feathered ‘do that was reminiscent of Princess Diana.

With all the different cuts, though, I never dared to mess with the color. As I got older, my hair darkened to an ash blond, so I’ve gotten highlights many times to maintain the illusion of being blond. Shortly after I hit 30, I felt bold enough to go dark, to a brownish auburn. It was a lovely color but when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see me, and I soon went back to the blond.

A few years ago, I started getting the itch to color my hair purple. When I first mentioned it, my best friend (also my boss) laughed and said that was a crazy idea. My son said the same thing (and I knew my mom would too). I believed them and settled for a bright streak, first pink, then purple. I loved that little bit of color in my hair, and made sure to style it so the color was noticeable. That didn’t quell the urge, though; I wanted more.

I’m a pretty conservative person, and I’ve always been concerned about what people think of me, so most of me couldn’t imagine going for a shade that would turn people’s heads. I was the good daughter, the smart girl, the one who fulfilled expectations and didn’t rock the boat.

The last few years have changed me: I’ve dealt with several deaths in the family, I quit my job to stay at home with my kids, I cut ties with that best friend. Now, I’m tired of being that person. I’m tired of making decisions based on what other people think. When I first floated the idea of dying my hair purple on Facebook, the response was resoundingly positive. Sure, some of the people were probably encouraging me so they could laugh if it looked ridiculous, but I think most of them saw it as I do: a fun expression of creativity and personality.

But what surprised me the most was how many people said they wished they were brave enough to do it. They’d thought of red or pink or blue, but just couldn’t do it. Coloring my hair, brave? I hadn’t thought of it like that. Silly, maybe. Unnecessary, sure. But when I did think about it, I realized they were right. Purple hair gets you noticed. People look and stare and talk. Was I confident enough to be able to pull it off? It’s a big commitment too–I wouldn’t be able to change it easily if I didn’t like it.

I was eager, but scared too. Ultimately I decided that I could choose to be brave. I wanted to be brave enough to do something that scared me. I wanted to do something that might encourage someone else to break free of expectations and do something bold. My life is my own, and I’m learning that I’d much rather try things, even if I fail, than regret not doing them.

Why purple hair? Well, why not? I love purple, why not have a part of me be purple? After all, this is just hair. It can be cut off, it can grow out, it can be re-colored, it can be covered up with a hat. This isn’t brave like soldier-brave or firefighter-brave or policeman-brave. This is just Be Yourself Brave. This is just Try Something for the Fun of It Brave.

So now I have purple hair. It’s darker than I expected, and it’s taking a bit of adjustment. But I love the colors I see in the mirror, even if I’m still learning to see them around my face. I love seeing people’s reactions. Sometimes their mouth drops open and they just stare. Sometimes their face lights up and they say, “I love your hair!” Sure, I get the puzzled looks and the “Wow. You…dyed your hair…purple.” But I also love that none of it really matters to me. Okay, that’s not quite true: it does still matter, a little. I guess what I love is that I’m *trying* to let it not matter. I’m the same person now as I was a week ago, and if someone can’t see past the purple to see that, well, that’s their loss.

What’s at the end of this rainbow?

Apr3

My very first post on this blog was about some rainbow yarn that inspired me. It was beautiful Mochi Mini from Crystal Palace Yarns, and I bought it even though it was fingering weight and I don’t do fingering weight. I bought it and the toothpick-sized DPNs I needed to make some fingerless gloves with it.

I cast on that afternoon, and it took some getting used to the miniature needles and the thin yarn. Mostly, it took some time to get used to how long it took to make any kind of progress.

This was a few hours’ work. It was simple knitting, and I felt like I was doing something so delicate and delicious that I didn’t mind the time spent. I also loved seeing the colors emerge as I knit, and how they flowed smoothly from one to the next. I did run into two knots in beginning of the skein, but I didn’t mind that. I knit my thumb gusset, and managed to slide those stitches onto some waste yarn that was probably too fat but all I had.

On and on I knit, blissfully and mindlessly, just watching my rainbow come full circle. I realized as I neared the top ribbing that when I picked up for the thumb, it would be a completely different color. I pondered that, considering starting the other mitt until I came to the matching color for the thumb. Then I realized I didn’t want them to match perfectly. So after I cast off the top, I happily picked up the blue yarn through the orange thumb stitches. I had some problems with it: I went the wrong way or something, so my purls were facing out and I had that line of color. Oops. I pulled out most of them and started again, but there are still the little lines at the five stitches I picked up. Just don’t look too closely at the thumb, okay? Mostly I was happy that I didn’t have a gaping hole at the thumb. This was only the third thumb I’ve picked up, so I think I did pretty well. I put it on and it fit! Yay!

Then I realized I had to make another one. One that would match it exactly. Well, I’d already had the fun of knitting a glove with this yarn, so the novelty had worn off a bit. So it took me another week or so to pick it up again and cast on for the second mitt. This one went faster, and I knew what I was doing with the thumb stitches this time so it’s even better (close to perfect, if I do say so myself). And even though it started at a different color, the body is still mostly the same as the first glove. I put it on, and it fit! Yay!

Now, do you notice what I noticed? Yep, this one is smaller. This might be the time to confess that I’m not the best row-counter…but I tried with these! I really tried! And yet they still came out different sizes. Sighhh. At first I was disappointed and thoroughly disgusted with myself. But they’re for me, they both fit, and I love how they look. I discovered I enjoy knitting with fingering weight yarn, and I practiced making thumbs. And I might have enough rainbow yarn left over to squeeze out another pair…if I can manage to make them both the smaller size!

That Felt Great!

Mar30

Wool is not always my favorite fiber: it can be itchy and scratchy, especially against my sensitive skin. But one thing I do love is how it felts! I’ve made a few small felted purses in the past and just love seeing the transformation from the loose, floppy, shapeless piece of knitting into a firm, sturdy piece of felted fabric. I also love that it negates the need for sewing in a lining. I recently found a few books showing felted purses accented with novelty fibers, like fur or eyelash or pompoms, and I liked the contrasting textures. I’d picked up some more books at that huge estate sale, and in one I found my perfect pattern: this adorable Vintage Bubble Bag. And after I got my new shelves set up, and my yarn all organized, I could see that I finally some good possibilities to work with.

I started with the pinky-purple Cascade 220 because I had two full skeins of it, and I quickly matched it with the multicolor novelty yarn. I knew I didn’t have enough of the Cascade for the bubble bag, so I was toying with the idea of a contrasting band around the top edge. I liked this dark teal Lamb’s Pride, and it matched the teal in the novelty yarn, but I thought it would be too stark a contrast between the pink and the teal. I picked up a different skein of the Lamb’s Pride, a lovely shade called Supreme Purple, and as soon as I set the three together, I knew it was the right combination. I cast on right away, and since I was using two strands and bigger needles, I had the body of the bag done quickly.

As it laid there, I wasn’t sure I’d done the right thing. It was bigger than I expected, and I wished I’d switched to the purple as soon as I ran out of the novelty yarn. But it was so close to being done, and I figured the felting and shaping process would change it quite a bit anyway. So I knitted the endless 40″ of I-cord for the handles, stitched them on, and the bag was ready for felting.

In the past, felting had gone quickly and smoothly. Two cycles in the washer with a towel or a pair of jeans, and bam, it was felted. Not this time. The first cycle did nothing, and my washer complained that the load was too small. I added a couple of towels and tried again. The pinky section started felting, but the purple band and handles still had complete stitch definition. I was already using hot water so I had no idea what I could do differently. I tried one more cycle but saw little improvement. It was going to be hand felting for me. I talked to my SIL, consulted my knitting books, and filled up the sink with hot hot water.

I stirred and rubbed with the spoon, I beat it with the spoon. I rubbed the bag together with my hands, focusing on the purple band that refused to felt. Finally I picked it up, squeezed out some of the excess water, and started throwing it into the other sink. I really heaved it, feeling the sink shudder slightly with the force. I beat the bag against the side of the sink. At one point, I confess I even took it outside and slapped it against the side of the house. Then I did it all again. In a way, it was good therapy, allowing me to vent my frustration at the silly thing for not wanting to felt. Eventually, it got close enough that I was happy, though the purple band never felted completely. I didn’t have anything perfect to shape it with, so I just lined with a plastic bag and stuffed it full of newspaper, adjusting it until the was the shape I wanted, and I left it out to dry.

By mid-afternoon the next day, I moved it to the sunny windowsill and flipped it to allow the bottom to dry.

Finally, after almost two full days of drying, the bag was done! I’m so happy with how it turned out. It feels wonderfully Springy to me, and the little bits of blue and teal just pop out of the wool. It’s about 10″ tall and 12″ wide, so it’s great for either a large purse or a good project bag. I added it to my For Sale items on my Facebook page and my Etsy shop, though I’d be happy to carry it myself…especially with my cute little Junie Balloonie flower added!

Those are just “girl” books, he says

Mar27

A few days ago I was at Barnes & Noble with my teenage daughter and one of her friends. They had just come from seeing “Divergent” and we met up with the other girl’s parents at the bookstore. We’re all readers, so the conversation veered from the Divergent series to other books. The friend (we’ll call her Tris for this story) brought up a book she wanted to read, the second in a series. Her mom said, “Oh yeah, I remember you telling me about that book.” Her dad glanced at the jacket art featuring stylized colorful swirls and sneered…and Tris put the book back.

The conversation moved to the Hunger Games series, which most of us had read and loved. Tris’s dad then said, with disdain in his voice, “Those books were girl books. They were too much about relationships. The parts about politics were interesting, but there wasn’t enough of that.”

Wow. Now, to be fair, I don’t remember whether he said he read the whole series or just the first one. (Though also to be fair, I’m not sure if that matters. How can you judge what you have not read?) I do remember there being quite a bit about the political issues in the series as a whole. I also remember the love relationship angle being only one small part of a much larger story. But despite the fact that he is overlooking so much meaning in the series, there is more at play that is disturbing to me.

Girls aren’t allowed to be interested in politics? Or is it that he thinks girls aren’t smart enough to understand politics? Tell that to Hillary Rodham Clinton, or Angela Merkel or Condoleeza Rice or Margaret Thatcher or…the list is too long. Does he realize that with his attitude, and his comments, he runs the risk of limiting his daughter? She’s smart, inquisitive, clever, funny–she can probably succeed in any field…unless she starts to believe that only certain things are acceptable for girls.

For that matter, boys have to be interested in politics? They’re not allowed to explore relationships in their reading? Huh. From what I remember of teenage (and young adult, and some adult) boys, their thoughts are consumed much more by relationships than politics. Being a teenager is a hard thing to go through, and I believe that reading about similar people and experiences can truly help a person cope with their struggles. What’s the good in removing that tool from an entire gender?

This wasn’t my first uncomfortable run-in with this guy. A few months ago, I was picking my daughter up from Tris’s house. My daughter and I both crochet and knit, and we were talking about teaching Tris how to do it. The dad scoffed at us, prompting Tris to point out that he used to crochet. “Yeah, I learned how once but then I figured out that it was stupid. Boys don’t crochet.” My 10-year-old son was with me, a boy who was actually learning to crochet. I spoke up and said that actually, they do, that one in particular is quite well-known (Hello there Crochet Dude Drew Emborsky) and he interrupted, “Oh, yeah, okay, one guy, sure.”

It’s truly infuriating. Thankfully, both my kids are enlightened enough that they realize the ludicrousness of what this guy says. I talked to my son about boys crocheting afterward, that actually a lot of guys do crochet and knit, and he casually said, “Oh yeah, I know.” Likewise, I talked to my daughter after the book incident. I asked her if she likes Tris’s dad, and she said, “Yeah, he’s really nice!” I murmured noncommittally and said I thought what he was saying about “girl books” was actually really sexist. She replied, “Well, yeah,” as if I was telling her something completely obvious…which I was, and I was glad that she recognized that.

I know there’s little I can do to combat attitudes like his. I wish I was better in the moment, to challenge him when he spouts idiocies like those, though it would probably do no good seeing as how I’m “just a girl”. So I’m doing what I can by teaching my kids to embrace what they love, regardless of stereotypes. Don’t close yourself off from creating wondrous things because one person says you can’t. I’m teaching them to respect others in the same way. Be open to what they’re doing, because you might learn something fantastic from them. Even though it’s true that we’re boys and girls, we’re all people. We all have thoughts and emotions and feelings and interests and passions. Life is so much more joyous when you have the freedom to embrace those things that make you who you are, as well as those things that connect you to others.

Where does all the yarn come from?

Mar26

Today is a busy day so my time is limited, but I was enthused by my local paper this morning and had to share. There was a lovely long feature article about a local fiber artist, Jamie Root, who raises her own sheep for the wool. The article talks a bit about how she readies it for use and turns it into yarn, and then where she takes it. I met Jamie last year at the Kansas City Renaissance Festival and spent quite a bit of time talking to her as she showed me a bit of the process. As a newbie yarner, I was fascinated, and she was so friendly and welcoming. Most of my yarn time is spent on the latter end of the process: buying and using the already-dyed, wound yarns. I’m just now starting to realize how much more there is to the craft–or do I mean art? That’s another discussion for another day! Click here to read the article.

It’s all Twitter’s Fault

Mar25

I resisted Twitter for a very long time. I couldn’t see the appeal. I did sign up once and immediately some strange guy wanted to follow me, and that creeped me out. But I kept seeing links with fun tweets, and my husband would sit there and read Twitter and laugh and laugh. Finally, it got to be too much. Fine. I’ll join Twitter, dang it.

Well, hey, did you know there are a bunch of yarn people all over the world on Twitter? I found more everywhere I looked, and they were saying and doing really cool things! Then people started commenting on my tweets, and I discovered you could interact with people! Truly a whole new world, to find all those like-minded people.

But it got even better, because I started following other cool people. I’m a reader and a writer, so I found a lot of awesome authors on Twitter and found out most of them are just real people! Sarah Dessen is one of my favorites because she’s very down to earth and funny. I told a few of the authors when I read and loved their books, and got an immediate response. I got brave enough to start commenting on their tweets, and it was such a thrill when they replied. Think how much cooler it was when a few authors I really admire started following me (ME!) on Twitter! (Thanks, Katherine Center and Elin Hilderbrand and Nanny Diaries girls McLaughlin Kraus, you all rock.)

Twitter was my gateway drug, because next was my Facebook business page for bonnyknits which let me find some customers for my yarn treasures. I went from there to Etsy, and though it’s still a trial effort, I’ve enjoyed it. Somehow from there I ended up with this blog, and between all the social media sites, I’ve connected with so many talented, smart, funny, clever people in so many different fields. I can feed all my different interests and not feel like I have to fit into one specific category.

Sometimes a hobby can make you feel isolated, if those around you just don’t understand, and you can’t find your “people”. I’ve found my people online, and I love it. Now if only I could tear myself away from the fun of it all to get back to my knitting.

Happiness is contagious. How many people can you infect?

Mar24

if you’ve read my previous posts, you know I had a wonderful weekend devoted to yarn and crafting. The resulting energy, as well as all my purchases, encouraged me to reorganize my craft room. I packed up my scrapbooking supplies into the large closet, which let me eliminate one of my folding tables to make room for two shelving units. I was able to take all my stash yarn out of plastic tubs and get it out where I can see it and touch it. I grouped it together by fiber for the most part, though there are a couple of project bags and a “shawl yarn” area.

The remaining table is my main workspace for when I’m planning projects, packing orders, editing manuscripts, or even working on my own writing. I’ve got my scanner and printer handy, and my head is nearby for when I need to take some photos.

Here’s my little desk area that houses my laptop, pen collection and gigantic Edward puzzle. Yes, I’m an unapologetic Twilight fan. I hope you’ll respect me anyway. If it helps, next to it is a signed letter from Dean Koontz.

Finally, I was able to bring up all my yarny books and get them together in one bookcase. Next to them are the tins holding all my buttons, so I can match buttons to yarns. I used some black modular shelving to hold random crafty supplies and my current inventory of finished items.

I had it set up by Sunday evening, and I was just puttering around in it. It’s a happy room. It’s a welcoming room full of color and imagination. The funny thing is that over an hour or so, my husband and both kids ended up in here with me. No real reason. At first they were just admiring the changes, but then they stayed, and just hung out with me. And the next morning, I was in here working on my computer, and my son wandered in after he got up. He sat in the rolling chair and started looking at the pictures and things I’ve got in here, and he was content to sit quietly in here with me until he got hungry enough for breakfast.

Apparently I have become the peacekeeper. By that, I don’t mean I mediate fights, though of course I do. I mean that I have an abundance of inner peace right now, and I think they’re hoping to absorb some of it. I’m profoundly grateful for the way we have our life set up right now. I’m grateful that I have the time and resources to practice the things that bring me joy. And if I can share my joy with them by sharing my happy craft space, I’m delighted.

Stash-mania

Mar23

That’s it, I don’t need to buy any new yarn for…at least a couple of months! I thought yesterday’s spree at the LYS closeout was good, but today was even better: I went to the estate sale of a hardcore crafter. Based on her house, I don’t think there was a craft she didn’t do. It was awesome. Get this: Her entire finished basement was given over to yarn. There were 6′ tall shelving units lining one side, and tables on the other, covered with plastic tubs full of yarn.

The best part was that it was GOOD yarn. This wasn’t cheap acrylic, or even nice acrylic. This was merino, cotton, alpaca, silk. There was hand-dyed and hand-painted wool. There was Noro and Blue Sky Alpaca and Louisa Harding and Nashua and Tahki and Koigu and Rowan and Classic Elite. There was a ton of Lamb’s Pride which isn’t soft but is fabulous for felting. There was a whole section of novelty yarns that were unusual fabrics and textures. It was sorted by fiber so if you were picky about your yarn, you could just visit “your” section. Of course I had to trawl through the whole darn place. I tell you, it was the closest thing to heaven I’ve experienced…and it was all $2 per ball/skein. I can’t possibly list all the delightful yarns I got, but I’ll show you my favorites.

This is Blue Sky Alpaca & Silk, a sport weight that’s as light as a feather in my hand. It’s only 140 yards but it should make a graceful lacy scarf for the spring.

This is the only skein of Malabrigo (For $2!!!) that I found. It’s an old one called Violetas. It’s kettle dyed and 215 yards, and it will make something gorgeous for me. A hat? A cowl? What do you think?

This was really what made the whole trip worthwhile, and I’m sorry I don’t have a better picture to show it off: this is Classic Elite Inca Alpaca…and there were TEN SKEINS of it! It’s a periwinkle blue, and since alpaca is my favorite yarn in the whole world, I was over the moon and made sure to snatch it all up before anyone else could get any. I now have over 1000 yards of it, and it’s going to be my first knitted cardigan, I believe.

That’s not all, oh no, that’s not all. Did I mention she had a room lined with shelving? Well, now I have some of it, which means I was able to liberate my beautiful stash from the plastic tubs and get it out where I can see it and touch it every day.

Isn’t it wonderful? I’m so very happy with my craft room right now, and if I weren’t so tired from that last two days, I’d start knitting up a storm. As it is, though, I think I must unwind with a glass of wine…and dream of all the knitting I can start tomorrow.

Alpaca, merino and silk, oh my!

Mar22

Today was a craftful day. My husband has been working a lot lately, so he arranged to take the day off, and we used the time to drive up to Weston, MO. Sadly, one of my LYSs is closing soon, so of course I had to take advantage of the sale. And it was a great excuse to visit Weston. It’s a cute little town with about three blocks of unusual, unique, and locally owned shops. There are several quaint gift shops, but also antique shops, a hardware store, an Irish-themed store, an architectural salvage barn, a liquor market, and a jewelry store with a lovely resident dog. Plus it has the Weston Cafe, which we love. It’s not fancy: the chairs are lightweight black metal with the barest padding, the tables aren’t exactly level and covered with plain oilcloth. But the food is good and the service is better. We’ve gone with the kids to Weston maybe once every three months or so. But today our favorite waitress greeted us by asking where the kids were, and she even remembered my regular order. It was a refreshing change from the sterile anonymity of a bigger city.

But anyway, that wasn’t my main goal. My main goal was the yarn. Actually, my main goal was to pick up a mannequin head the owner was holding for me. I’m newer to the knitting business and I’ve found that things photograph and sell better if they’re displayed well. So now I’m the proud owner of a head.

I love that her neck is long and she’s got a hint of shoulder–I’ll be able to display cowls and scarves on her too!

I really wasn’t going to buy much yarn. (I’ll pause here for fellow yarn enthusiasts to stop laughing.) Seriously, I’d already ordered some from her website, and of course I didn’t *need* more yarn. But she had alpaca for 40% off! Gorgeous baby alpaca. No, I don’t know what it’s going to be. But it’s alpaca. It doesn’t matter.

Then I touched some Cascade superwash by accident, and was surprised by how soft it was. There were some great colors too. I grabbed three colors, trying to decide between them, and realized how well they went together. I picked a gray for a neutral and I think they’ll become a nifty striped bag.

I found some splurges too. This sweet green is a mix of mohair, wool and silk so it has a fuzzy halo and a soft touch.

The colors of this yarn caught me. I loved the deep tones, and when I touched it and felt the silk/merino blend, I was a goner. They’re actually a bit darker than they look in the pictures; they’re Magenta and Teal.

This last one might be my favorite. It was a lucky find, the last skein in the store, and it happened to be in the 60% off basket. It’s a cashmere/silk blend and it feels as luxurious as you’re imagining. I had no silk before today, and certainly no cashmere, so this skein thrilled me.

My arms were full, and by then I was waiting by the counter, trying to get out of there before finding more. It didn’t work. Right next to me were two skeins of Cascade Magnum, a fabulous super bulky yarn. One was red and one was this dark, vivid blue, almost a purple blue. Maybe indigo? Not sure. In any case, at 40% off it was coming home with me too.

You’d think that was enough, but I managed to throw in a pattern book, a couple of bamboo crochet hooks and a packet of cute green buttons before all was said and done. Thank goodness my husband is a crafter too (he plays with wood and tools and makes beautiful furniture, check out his blog here) so he understood the importance of getting high-quality supplies at more-than-reasonable prices. In fact, I would have bought much less if he hadn’t encouraged me to stock up. But I’m tickled with the additions to my stash, and now I’m off to knit!