Big hurrah! I’m back in Canada! (Not that I haven’t enjoyed the States, but you know that you’re ready for home when the Canada Custom’s sign at the airport makes you a little bit weepy. Am I the only Canadian who thinks that it’s totally charming the way the customs people say “Welcome home” when they see your Canadian passport? They must have trained ’em, because they all do it, and I find it touching every time.) I landed in Vancouver, and couldn’t have been happier.
First thing, I found some mountains for Margene.
They aren’t the biggest ones, but they are the edge of the Rockies (Which are plenty big) and I think they stack up ok.
Next I found my hotel (The Granville Island Hotel) which had an awesome view of the sea village and the bay. Granville island is interesting (well, for lot’s of reasons) because it has no provincial affiliation. It isn’t in BC or any other province, it’s Federal land, and is simply in “Canada”. My friends Ingrid and Andre took me to dinner and we had the lovliest time. The restaurant overlooked English Bay, the weather was perfect, the company fabulous and the food and wines (from the Okanagan Valley) were beyond compare. Andre and Ingrid – I can’t thank you enough for making me at feel at home.
The next day I made a crash landing at Urban Yarns, where the sock laughed itself silly at the really neat sign the store had knitted…
Neat, eh? I took a picture of the staff too…
they are laughing because I asked them to squat so they weren’t blocking the shot of the Fleece Artist kits behind them. (What? It’s good looking yarn.)
From there it was on to the Capilano Library, put together by Mary at 32 Books, where the room filled just as the librarian was starting to mutter something about “fire code capacity”. Personally, I think she was just freaked out by the knitters.
There were so many bloggers there that I couldn’t hope to name them all. Shout out in the comments ladies, and we’ll click on your links! I did meet Amy/Indigirl and company,
which was a star struck moment for me, since I’m a big fan of her designs.
After, I hooked up with Angela, who fixed me up with some fab dinner companions,
There’s Sherpa-doug, Angela, Me, Lynne (Who owns Knitopia in White Rock. I am in awe of yarn shop owners. I don’t know how they don’t keep it all.) Fran, Mel, Pearl (who knit me a wool-pig that is simply to die for.) and Sivia Harding (who I tried hard not to gush all over. I think I played it pretty cool.)
Pearl was responsible for unlocking a yarn shop later that night to show me the biggest carder I have ever seen.
I lay the sock on it for perspective
see it there? Quaking in it’s DPNs? The tiny little sock just at the bottom of the drums, just behind all the fibre going to it’s doom?
Pearl also showed me and the sock the BALES of wool who have a date with the carder. I felt dizzy. (Probably the wool fumes.)
What is wrong with me that I don’t think this is too much wool? Do I have some sort of defect that lets me look a this enormous mountain of wool and think “There’s a start”.
The best thing, however, that the sock did was go to the Capilano suspension bridge. (We have to thank Angela and Photographer/sherpa Doug for these pictures. I was shaking too badly to do it myself.) The bridge spans 450 feet over a gorge and sways rather alarmingly.
It’s not that scary crossing, until you decide that you might think about letting go of the edge. (Also? I would have liked someone to make sure that everybody didn’t stand on the left side of it. I kept being worried that for reasons I couldn’t imagine, all the people on the bridge would stand on one side and the whole thing would flip over.) Here the sock dangles 230 feet above the gorge…..
The astute among you will note that this means that I stood 230 feet above the gorge and looked over the side. (Thank you. You support means the world to me. I’m five feet tall, and there’s a reason for that. It’s really how far off the ground I’m comfortable being. I don’t have an unreasonable fear of heights, but I do have a very reasonable fear of FALLING VERY FAR ONTO ROCKS.)
Here, the sock daredevils it.
(and I look nervous, note that my left elbow is holding the bridge very tightly. I know it’s difficult to hold onto things with your elbow, but I managed to just about make a fist.)
and here…my piece de resistance.
Me and the sock, doing our thing 230 feet above ground about halfway across a nauseatingly swaying wooden suspension bridge. (There was wind too. Did I mention the wind?) I look odd because every single muscle in my entire body is completely in spasm and I am sort of sweaty and shaky. Note the wide stance, not sure what I thought that would help. I. Am. Not. Holding. The. Bridge.
Teri? This is my entry for the Extreme Knitting Contest.
Today I am in Edmonton (Wondering if the West Edmonton Mall is extreme….Anybody want to go with?) I’ll see Edmonton Knitters tonight at Audrey’s Books at 7:30. I’ll bring the sock. I’m going to lie down now.