Still in Seattle. Actually, I’ll only be in Seattle for about another hour, then it’s off to Portland for me. The only comfort in leaving such a wonderful city is that as much as I love Seattle, I’ve got a serious crush on Portland. Should be awesome. I’m at the Powell’s Home and Garden store tonight…7:30, and I’m looking so forward to messing with the Powells people by bringing the invading hordes of knitters. (They never truly believe you until the knitters come.) Until then, rapid fire from Seattle, or I’ll miss my drive.
1. Oh Susanna!
I had the extraordinary pleasure of a quick lunch with Susanna Hansson. Knitter, teacher and Bohus pusher extraordinaire. We’re cooking up a Knitters Without Borders thing and boy, is it going to be good. It was seriously hard to eat with all that wool there.
I may have ordered something. I can’t remember. I was sleepy and there was a lot of wool, patterns and possibility. I think I said something like “Get me that.” I don’t remember asking what it costs. (True indicators of a yarn seizure.)
This is a seriously cool festival. I spoke on a panel with Shoshana Berger and Jenny Hart. I believe I was coherent and reasonably well spoken. No way to know for sure, but I’m glad it’s over. I hate that fly by the seat of your pants stuff. It might be less scary if I knew what was going to come out of my mouth from moment to moment.
I have poor verbal impulse control. The sock saw a little music,
and I found what I believe to be the only yarn at Bumbershoot.
Zoomed right in on it. Huge festival, thousands of tents, me staggering around with a sock sort of stunned and Whammo. I find the Hilltop yarns booth. (A true indicator that even under duress, my inner compass points to yarn.)
3. This guy.
Don’t know what he was doing, but it was cool.
4. Shoshana and I headed back to the hotel together and this nice lady got in the van on her way to the hotel. We exchange first names and shake hands and ask what each other was doing at Bumbershoot, and she says “comedy” and asks me and I say something lame like “knitting” and I say something totally lame like “You look familiar.” She muses and says something like “I get around” and we arrive at the hotel and part ways. I wish her safe journey, she returns the favour and I get out of the van. It is only when I am getting on the elevator that I realize that she was Mary Lynn Rajskub. I’m an idiot. I didn’t even get her to hold the sock. I can’t believe you people let me go into the world alone.
I spent the rest of the evening lying facedown on the bed.
5. The best tour guides in the city of Seattle showed me a good time yesterday before I fulfilled my authorial responsibilities at a dinner last night.
That’s right. Know the glory that is Ryan and The Mysterious K. (I was poised to get the first photograph of TMK when she spotted something. Better luck to me next time.) The combined priorities of this formidable pair -good food, good coffee, good yarn and a large copper pig
spelled out a wonderful afternoon. We took the sock all around the public market
and we got one of those famous guys who throws fish around to hold it.
Yes? You in the back?
Excellent question. Yes…the sock does smell just the tiniest bit of fish now. Yes it does. A small price to pay for just the best trip to Seattle.
Portland…one smelly sock and sleepy knitter headed your way. See you in eight hours. I gotta go catch my ride.
(PS. Yes. I finished Icarus. Yes, I blocked it at home…no. You can’t see it. I’m going to photograph it where it should be done. Later this week with it’s designer in Utah. I bet it’s worth the wait.)