Marvellous Madison

So the sock and I got up (I shall not write the ungodly hour of our travel on here, the sock doesn’t like talking about it, and we flew from Northampton to Detroit, then Detroit to Madison…. by then I was sufficiently buoyed by airline coffee to take a picture and knit a little.

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I keep forgetting to say what the travelling sock yarn is this time. You know I like to show a nice little Canadian sock yarn the world when I do this, and I love this yarn. Red Bird Knits “Romney Sock”, lambswool grown and milled in Ontario, dyed by the Fleece Artist in Halifax, and sold in Toronto. It’s a lovely rustic-ish yarn, not at all like the firmly spun merinos most dyers are using for blanks right now. Really different and pleasant to use. (It’s standing up to the particular abuse I put a travelling sock through really well.) I don’t see the colourway on her site right now, but hand dyed art is like that. You gotta takes what you gets.

The sock and I saw the Capitol in Madison, Wisconsin,

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but most of all, we saw knitters.

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I know this bunch looks innocent sitting there, but these are some of the most seriously fun knitters I’ve had the pleasure of running into – and I’m not just saying that because I got more beer at the Madison stop than ANYWHERE else on the whole tour – regardless of number of knitters. (Naturally, to avoid a drunken harlot incident that left me wounded today, I passed some (not all…oh no) on to the bookstore folks who helped make the whole thing work. They like knitters a lot now too.) I swear that when a well trained Canadian thinks a city is big on beer, they are a force to be reckoned with. There were the requisite first sock knitters… Anna, Emily, Stacie, Annette, Beth in Wisconsin (double teaming with a washcloth too), Leslie and Mary, who brought her first “Good” socks, which is an impulse I respect entirely.

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Then there was Kate, who is the last one there, and deserves honourable mention for her first sock, (will eventually be a pair…don’t rush her) which started out as monkey socks, and wound up as Monster socks.

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My daughter Meg just sat up straight in her chair when she saw those. I’m this far away and I can feel it. She’ll be knitting a knock off of these by the time I get home. Meg? Go study.

Mums and babies came, although my ability to get them to smile was clearly off this evening. There’s Lisa and little Matthew, who is three weeks old, but has an adjusted age of -1 week. (I love the way he looks like he’s saying “no pictures please”) There’s Susan and Anya, who was amused, but did not smile. Kitty Mommy and Isaak, who was an unyielding ROCK in the smiling department, and finally Lee and Wren, who didn’t even wake up for the event -though her mother made up for it.

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Hailey – the requisite young knitter represented for her kind.

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There were washcloths. Meet Kathy, Sue, and Becky – who brought a “cheese cloth”. (Har-dee har-har.)

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Here’s Jaala, who puts out an awesome Knitzine… Knitcircus. (Let’s here it for the Indie gals.)

(It really is good. I had a poke through my copy.)

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Here’s Ellen from Sheepwreck. (Totally helpful and awesome blog for spinners.)

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Adrienne, showing up with a sense of humour and the first of several bottles of Fat Squirrel beer.

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Sock guy Ken showing off a pair of size 17 socks. (He was advised not to date the recipient, lest rumours be true and lives be lost.)

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Connie is a knitting taxi driver, and I can’t tell you how much I wish I had been taking a taxi to the Madison airport instead of a car to Milwaukee this morning. I think we would have had an awesome time.

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Mary wants to say hi to her knitterly friend Tracy in Doha, Qatar.

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Maxine is the cheese lady. (For obvious reasons. That there is a big bag of squeaky cheese…all mine.)

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Julie rounded out the meal with a bottle of Monty Pythons Holy Grail Ale.

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Last but not least, quite possibly the best thing in these parts. My beloved Dale-Harriet. Present, and accounted for.

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Whew. There was more, so much more, but time is short if I’m planning on showing up clean in Carmel, Indiana tonight. I lost a little time when a very nice man accidentally took my suitcase instead of his when we landed here. When the only case left going around was one that looked a lot like mine, but wasn’t mine…I went to the airline. A thousand thanks to Midwest Connect, who tracked down the charming Bill (who was hugely sorry and back at the airport with my bag like lightning.)

I don’t know if he opened it, but I had to wonder what he would have thought if he did. Beer. Yarn. Chocolate.

Heaven knows what he would have called it, but I call it a party in a bag.