How's this font? I'm not so good with guaranteeing a consistent font, or even recognizing a font's name when I see it. I think I like this one, but don't be surprised if it magically changes into something else halfway through the post or in the next post. Know that my intention is to use this one. Georgia. I like it the best. But sometimes I can't control these little things. These little things that I want to care more about, but can't, since I would need to be able to control them more in order to apply that caring. And I could go on more about this, but that's not why I sat down to write.
A New Yarn was my favorite yarn store. It was a five minute drive from my house. It was a non-profit shop whose profits went to Northwest Family Life, which helps the victims of domestic violence. That wasn't a charity on the top of my list, but it made me feel good to spend money there. The first time I walked in the shop, the manager, Claudia, came over and introduced herself and in a way sort of screened me to find out if I was just a needleworker off the street, or whether I had deeper needs. It's that kind of place. I always intended to just take my knitting there and hang out for a while, but never managed to-- always ended up buying something. Most of their inventory was donated, so the prices were crazy. It was like shopping at the Goodwill of yarn on the day when the son of a now dead lifelong knitter with a yarn obsession came and dropped off her stash that she forgot to will to a knitting buddy. I could feed my need to buy yarn by spending ten bucks and get enough to knit for a month. They had baskets of random balls or partial balls of stuff that they sold for $7 a grocery bag full. Yeah-- you know I went apeshit with that. I had to limit my visits.
The shop had to close because they lost their lease and couldn't afford a new one. They had a new location picked out, but it needed renovating and they couldn't raise the cash, despite my $50 donation and the donations of my knitting friends. This is my last souvenir of A New Yarn:I'm not sure what this is all worth retail... let's see... 8 skeins of Nature Spun... that's about $32... 3 skeins of mohair... call it $18... a skein of Koigu worsted... $12... two skeins of Cascade sock... at least $18 or $19... two skeins of Fortissima Sock... $14. And then the needles. Three pairs of metal needles would probably be about $15 total, and then the Brittany ones are about $12 a pair. The two turned wood crochet hooks looked to be originally about $10 each. So what are we up to? About $143 before tax, I think. Well, I took my basket up to the cash register and a gal I'd never met read the data on each label for Claudia who entered it into the computer and gave me my total: with tax, $25.08. You've gotta be kidding. "Heart breaking." is what I said, actually. Criminal, is what I thought. For the first time I felt like giving them money was not being very supportive. It felt kinda yucky. I didn't feel like a savvy shopper who was supporting a cause, like I'd felt every other time I'd been there. It kinda felt like stealing from someone who is watching you but is helpless to stop you. It sucked. I'm gonna miss Claudia, and the shop.
The other little thing is this little reminder that you don't have to bust your butt to create beauty. You can knit the simplest, easiest hat and glove set ever out of the cheapest simplest black yarn ever and then just slap some cheap buttons and squares of felt on them and voila!
You've gotcherself some wearable art! And you can sell it to Coldwater Creek, who will then sell it for big bucks. Or at least try to-- the hat and gloves might end up at their outlet store in Lincoln City where I'll happen by with my phone.