I died and went to heaven

But I am back now.

The lovely and generous Wendy hosted Nancy, Jane, and me for a long, cozy weekend in her northern Michigan paradise. We knit by the fire, cooked, knit, chatted, visited yarn stores, ate, drank, wandered around Petoskey, and knit by the fire some more.

Wendy is my new best friend. I'd better finish her capelet soon.

But distractions abound. For example, on Friday I cast on for the Knitting Olympics. If you haven't figured out from the button on the right sidebar, I am knitting for Team Wales. I met several criteria to qualify for this distinguished team of fiber athletes:

1. My mother's maiden name is Williams.
2. My former married name is Williams, but we're not going to talk about that.
3. My great-great grandfather was a tiny coal miner from Mold, Wales. He immigrated to Utah to become a farmer in the late 1800s.
4. Male acapella choruses bring me to tears.
5. I've been to Wales three times.
6. I can pronounce Llanelli.
7. I have "Do not go gentle into that good night" memorized.

Here's a pic of my progress so far:
A few folks have sneered at my project choice - a scarf? Why not something more challenging? This is plenty challenging for my tiny brain, thank you very much. I've never knit anything with more than a 4 row repeat, and this pattern has a 44 row repeat! To add to the excitement, about halfway through the project I'll run out of yarn and have to spin another couple skeins. In order to do that I'll have to acquire more roving, if Jane Purcell still has any left.

Back to the trip report. We spent several blissful days knitting in front of a crackling fire. The knitting was punctuated by quick jaunts to local yarn stores. The Dutch Oven Yarn Store in Alanson is, strangely enough, a yarn store and bakery all rolled into one. You actually have to walk through the bakery to get to the yarn.

At Calico Crafts in Petoskey I found this hanging on the wall:

If you recognize this, you've been reading me for awhile. It is my loopy little bag pattern! Unattributed, of course, but exactly the same in every detail. Attributed or not, I was flabbergasted and thrilled! I felt like a rock star. OK, not really. And I think I embarrassed my cohort by jumping up and down and squealing. But it was cool.

In the not-knitting-related department, here's another find from our weekend trip:

Yes, that's Men's Bread and Women's Bread. What a happy couple. I just want to know - what happens if I eat the Men's Bread by mistake? Inquiring minds want to know.

Fat Singles
ho, hum
Fanmail from Some Flounder
Self-medicating with fiber
Too good to be true
Rock 'n Roll Preschool
Spindling at Sweetwaters
Big honkin' roses
The day I dyed
a skein a mile long
My Local Yarn Store
Crack for Knitters