the quacking fiber addict

I recently saw a t-shirt that read, "Spoiled Rotten." I nearly bought it, because I am. I admit it. I love, and deeply appreciate, the fact that I've rarely wanted for anything. And, in my defense, I am not remotely like Paris Hilton. I want to go into the Peace Corps to give back to the global community.

That said, I have a feeling that knitters might just start planning ways to raid my house tonight. I went to Portland with Mum & Dad today, to help them close the lease on the house we're renting for the next year. They asked me to come along, look over the paperwork (did I mention I aced AP Law?), take pictures of the rental, and just help out in general. So, on 5 hours of sleep (waaay too much caffeine yesterday evening), I got up this morning and requested that we make a stop at two shops in Portland - L'Occitane, because I'm out of facial scrub, and Knit/Purl, to ask about local stitch'n'bitch groups.

Honest to goodness, I did NOT plan on shopping. I was good, my intentions were honorable. We made great time and arrived at the rental an hour early (even after we stopped for Pho). After an hour of paperwork, endless signatures and initials, we got the keys and went to look the place over again:


It's VERY cute, and a little under 1/2 the size of our present house (heaven help us). I took tons of pictures of every room, nook, and cranny (just in case). After exploring the neighborhood, we then went onto the fun portion of the afternoon. Dad got to visit his new favourite haberdashery (can you believe I actually get to write that word in a blog post?), while Mum and I played in their Ladies' section (wow, I have never wanted fancy hats so much in my life).

I then asked, because we were 6 blocks away, to hit Knit/Purl. This was agreed to. First, and I came up with this one, we stopped by Josephine's. If you are even remotely fond of fabric, you MUST stop at this store. There are no words to describe the exquisiteness of their wares.

Yet, somehow, Mum and I managed not to buy anything there (a near thing, too, since they had a line of Italian summer cottons out) and walked out with nary a sigh.

Next door is Knit/Purl (and next to them is a needlepoint shop...). Knit/Purl is what I want to grow up and own. It's definitely a Big Kids knitting store. Mum & Dad and I looked around, making conversation about local knitting groups. I was strongly encouraged to come by on Thursday nights, when they have their knitting night. Tempting.

The sock wall was my doom in the end. But, technically (this truly is a hairfine line I'm barely not crossing), I didn't break the Yarn Diet. Seriously. Mum & Dad bought the yarn as a gift. Sooo... it doesn't count, right?

I have a feeling I'm not going to win that argument. Moving on. As I was looking at their patterns (I really love the Shibui line), Dad called me away from the shelves. Sounding frighteningly reminiscent of Mephistopheles, he asked me slyly, "Have you seen this?"

Oh. Dear.

Somehow, 5 minutes later, with a "I hope we start seeing you on Thursday nights!" ringing in my ears, Mum & Dad and I were standing on the street... and I was clutching my new Tote and the forbidden yarn, slightly puzzled over my new acquisitions.

This just skyrockets my Spoiled status through the roof, doesn't it?

But, to keep my karma in the positives, I'm working on a bunch of cute things not for me. On the way home I gleefully finished a bootie for someone's baby (who's already born, darnit, the whole baby-waiting-for-the-knitting-to-be-done is a lie). Since the parent sometimes reads this blog, I'm not going to show the bootie finished. But, here's the front:




I made the pattern up while we waited for Pirates of the Caribbean to start last night. It's a sole-up pattern that I'm not even sure how my demented mind invented. But, everyone admits it's cute. The pattern needs some polishing, but I like it enough to keep trying. Yay for more babies!

I cast on the second bootie, but got dreadfully carsick after awhile, and ended up sitting (slightly bored) for a couple of hours not getting anything done. Blast. This is why I like trains. I never get sick when I knit on them. Or planes. Or boats.

Blarg.

I think I'm going to try to knit the second bootie tonight. I'm off to do that and find a Lo Jack for my new knitting tote.

Labels: family, SSE, The Move