I love Nashville. It was the same way this time as it was last time. Lush, green, overgrown and (mercy me) warm. Totally warm. Not warm like the way you think anything above zero is warm after a Canadian winter, but really truly warm. Like, an entirely insane temperature like 23C (75F) I reeled. I took off my sweater. My pasty little canadian sun starved face got sunburned in the 23 minutes I spent outside just feeling the warm. There’s something stunningly wonderful about the American south. I don’t know if it’s my own sense of romance about the place, all tied up in Scarlett O’hara and Mark Twain and riverboats….but it’s not just Nashville that does it to me. Anywhere the kudzu grows, I am overwhelmed. I stayed in a terrific hotel too… The old Union Station Hotel.
It used to be a train station (trains still rumble underneath, carrying cargo instead of people travelling) and the whole hotel grew up around it. Behind the front desk is a sign listing what time all the trains (used to) come in, and from where, and I stood there stunned that there really was a Chatanooga Choo Choo. (Or a Chatenooga, for that matter. I thought it was just a song.)
I reluctantly left the hotel by way of a door marked “This way to platforms” and I went and found Nashville knitters. Charming, as always.
There were all the first sock knitters, like Anna, Auntie Em (technically it was her second socks, but she was so endearing I cut her some slack) Ann, Natalie, Shirley, Lindsay, Jo (love the knitters with short names.), Jennifer and Ryan. (Jennifer had to bring the sock recipient too. ) and Shakey.
(Click to embiggen.)
Stacie brought me two things I love. A Tennessee washcloth and a beer.
Dos Perros Ale is really yummy. Just saying.
This is Dana, who now owns the terrific shop Threaded Bliss.
Barb is number one. (And has the proof from Borders to prove it. They number knitters there.)
Our good lady Jess of the Bugs brought me a drawing of a butterfly’s reproductive parts.
(Seriously. I don’t know why that was even a surprise. Getting bug porn from Jess should be totally expected. It’s surprisingly beautiful. I’m going to frame it in my house and wait for people to ask what it is. I shall take great glee in telling them all manner of sordid details about bug bits. )
Wooster came to hold me accountable for how long it took her to get her Vintage sock kit. (Totally not my fault that knitters know something good when they see it. Totally not my fault either that I broke the Tsarina’s supply chain. That was the mill running out. Not her.)
Knitterboy brought me an incredible present. I posted the other day about some socks that I love, and I didn’t want to tell you what it was, lest it all be bought out from under me before I could find it. Well, I’ve spend two days on the internets looking for Regia nation colour #5399 and I couldn’t find it. I was all prepared to give up, and here comes Knitterboy with two blessed skeins of it.
Turns out he saw that I was after it, knew that it was a scarce thing on the market and decided to part with a portion of his own private reserve. He walked up to the table and said “I’ve got something you want” and I unwrapped it and went nuts. Folks who were in Nashville last night will tell you of the cry of glee I let out when I saw it. Knitterboy is as powerful a man as he is handsome. Fantastic.
I’m off and running again. It’s terrible whiplash here. I’m in Minnesota and it’s raining/snowing. Not warm. I’ve got six minutes before I leave for the big Yarnery event…and I should seriously do something about my hair.