Not So L YS

 

 

Prairie Tarot

        


So back when life was kind of normal and the debacle of Brexit and it's lily-livered architects was unforeseen, we took Mini Diva and a couple of her club squad to a rugby camp organized by England and professional rugby player, Rachel Burford, in the charming little town of Beccles. Unfortunately the winding narrow country roads that lead there created somewhat of a budget white-knuckle ride for me, but my shaking hands were calmed by tea sipped through a straw, it being too early for gin. Well, too early for me to be seen drinking gin openly, anyway.

Having deposited the girls, Titch and I decided to roam the wild and unknown streets of Beccles in search of entertainment:

We accidentally went into a craft shop ( I shan't name it, to spare their blushes) where the ambience was so forbidding and the one salesperson of 3 present was so hostile that we slunk out like a dog that's just peed in your shoe.


Luckily, this was not the general experience we had in Beccles - everyone else was friendly, helpful and chatty. I was especially pleased to find a Tardis of a (not so Local) Yarn Shop, The Needlecraft Shop: it looked like an old-fashioned haberdashery shop from the outside, there was no clue as to the rich variety and range of yarns until one had trickled through the door:

There were 4 separate sections of the shop, of which 3 were yarn-related. The ladies on duty were friendly and welcoming, chatty but without any pressure to buy. Of course, one is obligated to buy something from such a lovely shop, one must contribute to its survival - and as yarn purchases were not part of the plan for the day, a little ball of something or other would have satisfied my moral conscience as well as my practical one.

However, Titch had different ideas, and spoiled me by buying me a(nother) sweaters' worth of a delicious green aran yarn, two 400grm/ 892yds/ 816m balls:
 

And his generosity extended to matching buttons:

Now all I need is a pattern: help me out ... I want a cardigan, longline, with pockets. No open fronts - I want to use these buttons. I like cabling, and lace, not necessarily together: hit me with your suggestions, please.

New Week, New Yarns

So while I'm waiting for a batch of oils and lye to cool down, I thought I'd dash off a little blog post; after all, if my literary friends can manage the 1700 or so words a day demanded by NaNoWriMo, surely I can reach for the sky and attempt a mere couple of hundred ?

Especially when I can tell you all about the new yarn shop - or more accurately, boutique - that just opened up the road from me, in Woodbridge. DH being his usual easy-going self drove me out there on Saturday, even though I didn't know the name of the shop or where exactly it was (Woodbridge is not a large place, however).

It turns out it is called Twist, and is just by the Shire Hall. It is so new it still smells of new carpet, which itself is still that special kind of new-springy. The lighting is designer-style but still allows one to see the colors of the yarn; the custom-built cubbyholes for the yarn are not so much cubbyholes as cubby walls: of which a good quarter is filled with Noro yarns. The colors are almost as interesting as I had heard, but the texture is also scratchy and harsh, as I'd also heard.

There was lots of Debbie Bliss, some lovely Louisa Harding, plenty of Rowan and Sublime. Somehow, 2 skeins of Debbie Bliss 'Andes' (baby alpaca & mulberry silk)



fell into the posh paper bag, along with the 2 tissue-paper-wrapped balls of Rooster Almerino Aran ... The Artesanos and Manos del Uruguay yarns had not yet arrived; also absent was any laceweight, again awaiting delivery. Already the Rooster is transforming:



The service was friendly and welcoming - a refreshing change when it comes to high-end yarn shops; and the pricing was also reasonable. All she needs to do is instal some unobtrusive background music, a coffee machine and a couple more sofas, and institute a knit morning ....