Turns out that I like Seattle too. Or I think I do, I was in and out of there so fast that it was hard to get the flavour of the place. (Good coffee though.) What I did like about Seattle was the people. All the people. 21 hours in Seattle and I didn't meet a single person who wasn't a fine example of human expression.
I spent a good chunk of time in the airport, since they had sent my bag on a separate tour. When I went to the desk to tell them that my bag wasn't there, two remarkable things happened.
1. The guy had a "message" from my bag. Presumably, he had a message "about" my bag, but I loved the metal idea of a bag sending word. "Dear Steph....."
2. He asked me, should the nametag have come off my bag, and they were to look inside to identify it...what did I have in my bag.
One word. "YARN". He looked at me so quizzically that I added
"Lots of yarn."
From there I was taken through Seattle by my friends Linda and Jay and her daughter Sarah. Sarah is a geography teacher and I highly recommend visiting new places with one. They answer all of your questions. Sarah also said "correct!" every time I got something right. Made me feel like I was doing really well.
Linda and Sarah are both knitters (and Jay is Knitter sympathetic) so our first stop was Village Yarn and Tea (a brilliant combination). Now who do I find while I'm perusing the angora?
Sam and Kim! Who kindly agreed to manage the sock and his/her (does the sock have a gender?) groupies for a minute or two.
From there on to 3rd Place Books. There was some sort of bridge closed because of some sort of planes, so I was late. While I was melting down in the car, Linda pointed out that making knitters wait isn't as bad as making regular people wait. At least they have something to do. When I got there (late) here was one of those scary microphones, and the bookshop had kicked it up a notch by adding a STAGE and LIGHTS.
(The sock was seriously tripping out.) I was almost hysterical. I know that this might not occur to you, when you see these pictures, but I am taking them. All those people are looking at me. On a stage. With a microphone. Here I am, some sort of late, weird Canadian knitter trucking a sock around the US on some bizarre trip that I can't figure out how I got on, and all of those people are looking at me. I have to say stuff about knitting that makes some sort of sense, and make sure that my fly isn't open. The only thing that saves me from complete babbling idiocy is knowing that they are knitters, and probably knitters who would forgive me for having my fly open. (Although my open fly would likely be blogged from here to Calcutta. There's a reassuring thought. )
Hanging out and signing books after, look who I found.
Ryan and TMK! (TMK actually has a face and a name, and both are lovely, but I'm not telling.) This realization stunned me so much that I couldn't stop looking at her. It was like meeting superheros. It was like one of your favourite imagined people just materialized in front of you and was everything you dreamed and more. Ryan cried a few knitterly tears, but me and TMK are tough, so we just thought about it. The sock had a little private time with them. Go see.
I saw Lorette, Dorothy (man, she knows her way around a piece of lace) Sandy Blue (I may have welled up a little for that one. She was so sweet), our lady Perclexed of the comments, and so many more that I need to ask all of you to give a shout in the comments so we can visit you.
After it was all over, Cheryl, chief in charge of Harlot wrangling at 3rd Place Books, told me that it is traditional that visiting authors (it still cracks me up when someone calls me that to my face. I feel like I'm running a total scam) have to have their picture taken in the photobooth at the store. You go into the booth, you do what you want and they save the pictures. Okay then. I totally knew what to do.
I blogged it.
Isn't she sweet? She didn't bat an eye.
Mission accomplished, team Harlot threw themselves back into the car and through an incredible series of twists and turns (you have to turn left to turn right) Sarah got us to Weaving Works for their Anniversary party. (May they have many more. Damn fine store.)
There was more threatening mobs.....
Except they didn't turn out to be threatening at all.
(I have to admit that it's easier to do these things in yarn shops that bookstores. Yarnshops don't have many microphones, and I find the wool very grounding. Besides. There was cake.)
I got to add another Cassie to my collection:
Now I have four! (This one hopelessly fondles wool in public too!)
Here we have Dena (Dena was the one who started the Llama, llama duck business.) Warning: that link has sound. Addictive, gripping, insanity inducing sound.
She brought a sock so she would look all innocent and not at all like somebody that sent you a link that left you humming inanity for days months on end.
Karma was there, and Carry (who got a picture of the cake) and Jessica, who experienced a string of bad luck that made me feel very, very at home. I have a thing for women who...much like me, regularly (and I quote Jessica here) lose their sh*t. (Those who know me are cracking up that I *'ed the "i" in sh*t, being as it's one of my favourite words, but it's a family blog.
My sh*t and I seldom seen in the same room together.
For now, I'm in Vancouver, and my hotel room has a bidet. I've never used one...so my plans are pretty much set.