incogkneeto.com blog

To clear up the post title, LYS = local yarn store.

I’ve pretty much been on a cantaloupe orange kick since I moved to MN, and am still looking for a kickass opalescent-opaque nail polish in the shade.

I just spent enough time wandering through a yarn store I frequent not quite frequently enough to make the sales clerk sweat, which is what I do; at least, another byproduct of moving to MN has been very very carefully weighing each purchase I am considering making. I was really feeling rather bored with the selection, and thus hopeless, and confused about my priorities of buying yarn at all, and hey it’s getting kind of warm in here, here comes some sweat, and then I just start over touching things and suddenly oh my god there’s this delectably delicate snow bunny white lace-knitted sweater in my hands and I need to know ala what child, what yarn is this?

And so eventually I’m walking around the store again with this little orange ball that feels like a baby bunny rabbit in my hands, knowing not what to do with it but only that it must become mine. And I’m struck by thoughts of something I read recently about the unsustainability of modern America’s “I want it therefore I deserve it” attitude but I don’t really care. I think this is a little different when the magic of creation is looming. And I wander over to the Schaefer yarns because well they are awesome especially this here cotton with a slub of rayon through it that I have been fixating on this entire visit. And I’m holding baby bunny orange up against various colourways and it just about kicks me in the teat - the harmony! The colourway is called “Elizabeth Blackwell” and it’s going to sound cheesy you just have to see it touch it but it’s grey blues and grey purples and grey oranges. And they want to get married, this subduedly colourful cotton-rayon and my little baby bunny orange and my check card is their minister. And is it ever! But it is so worth it because they’re going to make beautiful babies together.

I had gone to this yarn store because they carry some (some.) of the yarns I know I like, but as usual, I end up with something totally new and different and awesome. So that fulfills the second post title’s prophesy: finding new yarns is the real use of a brick-and-mortar LYS.

Oh, and apparently badminton kicks my ass now because I can barely walk today and I cry out in pain when I sit on a toilet. (it must be very interesting to be waiting for public bathrooms I’m in) Granted, there was a bike ride too, but it wasn’t that intense…