I'm not sure when this all came of the rails, organizationally speaking, but I'm writing about Denver as I'm on a plane to Vancouver, then to Seattle where Cat Bordhi and I are having a bit of a summit before going on to Sock Camp together. (This cracks me up. I love dpns, Cat hates them. I hate knitting socks on two circs, Cat wrote the book. Thank heaven we're both so mild mannered. Har-dee har har.)
I'm sure it will be fine. Now, when I was in Denver...
I wandered around looking for sock pictures. (In between work appointments. You wouldn't believe how much sock picture time gets taken up by actually working for a living.) I found these guys...
I think maybe they are sheep, but they are some sort of vague little mammal in any case. (Unless they are buffalo...I don't think their heads are big enough for Buffalo.) I contemplated the beasties for some time, because you could stand outside in Denver,
since I found spring there too. You could have knocked me over with a feather. (Well. That may have been the altitude. Denver is like Salt Lake City, its got NO AIR. Very distressing. I kept thinking that the stress was getting to me and I was having a panic attack or something but nope. Just a general lack of oxygen causing all the symptoms. If you breathe more it sorts out.) When the appointed time came, I staggered down to the Tattered Cover, gasping though the door and saw something that took more air away. Knitters
Many, many knitters.
The place was filthy with them, and the Tattered Cover handled it beautifully. (They officially became the first bookstore with enough chairs on this tour.) Charles, the events guy, was top notch. (Charles arranged the Clinton signing at Tattered cover. If he can handle 3000 Clinton fans, a couple of hundred charming knitters should be a walk in the park...and it was. I maintain that several hundred knitters have a higher freak out value though. I suspect Charles would agree.)
Chris was first in line.
She was there when Charles arrived in the morning at 8:30, patiently waiting. (Never try to outlast a waiting knitter. They are infinite - or at least until they run out of yarn.) This is Imbrium!
This is Morwyn and Anna-Liza, showing of the first sock mojo.
Here's Carol....quite prepared to hear that I didn't get my luggage.
(Good thinking Carol, much appreciated. Not needed, but appreciated.)
Jacob's wearing a shirt to turn knitters on...
I asked him if he had worn it to school and he confided that this was the first time he'd worn it. I told him girls would love it.
Here's Sylvia our hat lady...
and here's her charming wee knitter, Jojo.
I almost died when I saw this knitter
Deb Robson. (Be still my heart. She so-wrote this beautifully useful and clever book, which is so popular that mine is out on constant loan.) When it was all over, some of the Interweave people and I went out for pizza and beer and I collapsed in a heap...then headed happily for home. I had two days there, ate some chocolate, dyed some eggs, hug out with all the extended family, ate birthday cake with Hank and went back out the door again. This moment I am happily esconced in Cat Bordhi's house, drinking coffee and getting ready to make for the ferry to sock camp. We are so ready.
There's a story in our readiness...but we are sworn to secrecy...temporarily. More tomorrow.