My neighbor is jealous because it's so cute

Once upon a time when Stitch 'N Bitch Nation first hit the shelves of my yarn store, I asked Marsha to knit a store sample from the book. We agreed that the Om Yoga Mat Bag would be a great sample. Marsha knit a beautiful aqua bag and even got a cute purple mat to put inside. Because who in California does not do yoga?

Like nobody. Nobody that came into my store anyway. My customers chose yarn, needles and knitting over posing, stretching and exercise. The yoga mat bag moved from the front of the store, to the back of the store, to the middle of the store and back around again and again. Whenever someone would show the slightest interest in it Tess and I would stare at each other with amazement, rush over, talk it up and try to make the sale. I think only one person ever bought the supplies to make yoga mat bag and I know it was Tess that closed the deal. It soon became the dud sample, the laughing stock of all the other store samples.

After two years of sadness and mockery, Marsha took yoga mat bag away determined to sell it as a finished piece, mat and all, at a local craft fair. No takers. Poor yoga mat bag couldn't hack it in the real world either. For the next year and a half the yoga mat bag rolled around the trunk of her car.

Two weeks ago, after starting Jazzercise and having to use the sticky, sweaty public mats, I suddenly remembered lonely, sad, old yoga mat bag. How nice would it be to have a cute knitted yoga mat bag with my own clean mat when I trot into Jazzercise? I asked Marsha if maybe I could have it back. She slowly turned her head looking at me in amazement. I think the laughing started from her toes.

Not two days before had she finally given the yoga mat bag away.

Marsha thought it was so bizarre that I wanted the bag after all this time she promised to make me a new one. I got the mat and look! Fabulous!

... And on a side note - I posted the picture because then Lisa can finally see what I wear to Jazzercise. No headbands or leotards or Velcro Reebok hi-tops...

New Book!

Fabulous! Nancy Queen's new book, The Chicks with Sticks Guide to Crochet, is available for pre-order from Amazon.com! It is available in April and I am so excited to see it in print. Nancy and co-author Mary Ellen O'Connell have worked countless hours to get this book, and the second installment The Chicks with Sticks Guide to Knitting due out in August, just right.

I have three patterns featured in the Crochet book, a surfer girl hat, great zebra stripe slippers and a top down raglan cardigan.

Go ahead and order it!

One day someone will tell me they went to Emmaus

I finally decide to introduce myself to the neighbor who looks cool but I hadn't ever talked to because, I don't know, we've only lived near each other for three years. I went old school, taking her a homemade peach cobbler. I figured she'd have to like me if I take her food, and what girl doesn't want dessert at 11am from an unshowered neighbor she's never met?

So Jane and I got to chatting, she sews, loves serving dishes and is generally disinterested in all things uncool. I watched their dog. We had them over for dinner. They got us really drunk one night. Perfect! Then Jane ordered a pumpkin latte from Starbucks and everything changed. "Oh, you should come see my husband's band play next week," she said.

"Cool."

"His band, the Pigdogs, will be playing and then after them is another cool band with this guy Nato Wolfgang."

"Huh? Nato Wolfgang. That sounds really familiar. Why do I know that name?"

"He's like two cars in front of me in the Starbucks drive-thru. He lives in our neighborhood."

"Oh yea, I do know him. Well, I know his mom from my yarn store days, and his sister does my hair!"

"Wait, you know Julia?"

"Wait, you know her?"

That conversation was just too weird for me to handle. Since moving to California I have been relatively anonymous. It wasn't like in Pennsylvania where people would accost me and say, "You look like your father." Or "How's your mother doing?" Or, "Jennifer, Jennifer!"

My siblings are quite a bit older than me and my parents had a different circle of friends by the time I came along. The old friends would see me about town and shout various things at me. I would come home and describe the situation, where I was, what they were driving, etc. and my parents would say, "Oh, that was Nancy's best friend in fourth grade, how's she doing?" Uh, yea. She's great. WTF?

But if you ever want to remain anonymous, don't open a yarn shop where you meet thousands of women. Last night I went to happy hour with my neighbor and some of her other friends. Jane was recounting the story about how we know the same people and then one of the other women pipes up and says, "Yarn shop? You must know Moira!"

Anonymity over.

Happy Halloween!

We celebrated Halloween a little bit earlier in the week. Saturday night we went to a party at our friends Carolyn and George's home. The invite instructed we come as dead rock stars. After weeks of pondering the possibilities and four trips to the thrift store, we ended up as Mama Cass and a white Jimi Hendrix.

When I found that dress, I had to have it. I didn't have an immediate idea for who I could become while wearing it. I snapped some shots on the iPhone and uploaded them to Flickr. My sister Jen helped me formulate the rest of the ensemble. She took one look at the dress and knew what to do with it! Right away she spouted, "Mama Cass! Tie something around your head, get some daisies, a ham sandwich and go barefoot!"

Plus Jen found this photo of Mama Cass knitting! Hooray!

The dress fit pretty well and I didn't think I would be able to put a pillow under the dress to make me look fat. Thomas was dead set on fattening me up for the costume. He made me shove every throw pillow in the house under my dress and finally he was satisfied with a green square one. Thrilled with his decision, he scampered off to the garage to get the duct tape. A word to the wise, don't ever let your husband convince you that duct taping something directly to your skin is a good idea. Ever. Learn it now. This is what happens at the end of the evening, and it stays that way with a mild burning sensation for the next four days.

Thomas on the other hand was a bit more challenging. Do we send him as Kurt Cobain, a young Jerri Garcia? Nothing seemed to work right. Then I found a photo of Jimi Hendrix in a black shirt and a white jacket with tight jeans. He owns a white jacket. That was a good start. I found a classy polyester double-knit navy blue button-down shirt with white triangles. To add to my excitement, the shirt was not only his neck size but cut long in the torso. Perfect!

We found a scarf for his head, and frizzed up his hair.

The only hurdle left was pants. I didn't find anything appropriate at the thrift store. Thomas doesn't own jeans, he considers them too average, too expected, too common. I was racking my brain to figure something out. His business khakis certainly wouldn't work. Scanning the dirty laundry piles in the bedroom, I spotted the perfect item. I convinced him to wear my skinny jeans.

Thomas. Skinny. Jeans.

He complained that they were crushingly painful. He couldn't reach his feet to put on his socks or tie his shoes. But damn, they looked good!

Tidbits

Today's sunrise was beautiful. It was foggy when I woke up, but then suddenly the sun began to appear.

Not necessarily related to the sunrise, I've started a new sweater for a new little niece.

Also not related to the sunrise or to knitting, here's some pictures of Henry being lovable. He's like an amazingly adorable, gigantic teddy bear. I could stare at him all day.