a yarn of a tale
Or, how I went to St. Louis on a yarn pilgrimage.
I wasn't able to go to St. Louis KIP b/c my friend Jane and I were on an equally
important quest--that of the Saturday morning farmer's market. We hit the one in Clayton first, followed by a further jaunt to Soulard and pub lunch at the new Llewellyn's. Yum. But I did see St. Louis knitters publicly knitting when I dropped by Knitty Couture
before heading off to
see friends in Webster Groves.
Monday brought more yarn.
That is the one and only Myers House. Guaranteed to enhance your stash, because how can you resist yarn in a historic house? The pull of the house's charm is so strong that the fabric store on the first floor, which one must trek through to reach the yarn-laden second floor, always makes me want to start quilting. (As I walked through on this trip I repeated to myself "I hate ironing. I hate ironing." This saved me from succumbing to the lure of the fabric until I was safely on the stairs.)
Tuesday morning I was trying to figure out whether I could squeeze in a trip to an LYS when I realized I was about to drive by the (also new to me) Kirkwood Knittery
. How convenient that they were right on the way to my friends' house in Webster! Didn't even have to go out of my way.
Tuesday night Jane and I found ourselves picnicking in Forest Park before seeing "The Producers" at the Muny. (I had not seen the theatrical production or the movie of the musical. You have to love a friend whose idea of a picnic before theater includes vichysoisse in green plastic martini glasses. Bolstered by our dinner, I knit my way through the talking head introduction and the intermission at the Muny:
Wednesday evening Jane (did I mention what a good friend Jane is?) and I hit Busch Stadium to take in a Cards game and I had my very own Stitch 'n' Pitch:
Thursday I had one last day in St. Louis and I made it count. First, a trip to The Loopy Ewe
during their open hours:
(I called Kay
while standing here in front of the wall of Lorna's Laces.) Then I continued on to see Knitorious
in their new location (or at least, new to me) on S. Watson Road.
Last, but certainly not least, since I had not had a chance to Knit in Public under the Arch on the 14th, and since I was curious about the water levels on the Mississippi, I trekked down to the Arch steps (warning--just to get into the Arch these days, even if you just want to use the bathrooms, is an undertaking that rivals going to the airport. Do not be in a hurry to get to the bathroom. Just sayin'.)
I'll post more water photos in a later post, but this was my view while I sat on a nice piece of grass under a tree and plugged along on the sweater back.
I'm back from my one week adventure in St. Louis--home of good friends, Ted Drewes', and, at this moment, a surfeit of water.
More on the water in another post.
When I first got to St. Louis last Friday, Large Car Rental Company upgraded me to a bigger car when the one I had reserved wasn't there (is there anyone else besides me who wonders about the whole point of reservations?)
As I was signing all the requisite paperwork, which included a form that told me I could drive unlimited mileage in Missouri, Illinois and Arkansas, the Renter Dude (I'm sure that's his official title) said, "You're not driving into Illinois,are you?"
Having lived on both sides of the river, I always find the attitudes of many in the St. Louis area about people on "the other side" to be very amusing. I knew plenty of folks in the Metro East who didn't venture over to St. Louis, and vice versa. My favorite sign on Highway 40 was "Last Missouri Exit"--also there's one on I-44 that notes it's the "Last Rest Area in Missouri."
I pointed out that I would be most certainly driving in Illinois, and he made a fuss about "noting that on the form." After he left and I was getting settled into the car, I had a good laugh when I saw the license plate.
God forbid one should drive a car registered in Illinois in--Illinois.
note to my next door neighbor
Did you find a foam "P" in your patio this morning?
Are you wondering where it came from?
Bear with me.
You see, this morning I finished weaving in the ends of a project I've been working on for two+ months:
(That's Serenity Blanket from La of JenLa
. Stats: 5 and a smidge balls of white Cotton-Ease on size 6 needles. This is intended as a gift, but I won't say who or when until I actually get the thing in the mail and sent).
A few months ago I spotted foam tiles at Michael's that one can interlock in different shapes, and I thought they would make a great blocking board. And they do.
This morning I went outside with the tiles b/c the patio is the best space we have for big projects that need some elbow room. I went outside with the tiles before I realized we are having yet another day with strong winds out of the south.
Before I realized what was happening, the tiles started flipping up in the wind, and then some of them flew up in the air. I was able to grab most of them, but in the process, the little letters and shapes started falling out of the tiles, and at least one of them flew over the patio wall.
So this is why there's a foam "P" on your patio. I can live without it, but if you can find it and can return it, I'd greatly appreciate it.
Your wacky neighbor (yes, I'm the one who takes her cats out for a stroll on the patio and that's why you hear me say, "Houdini, no. No!" during the evening, when he goes for the chives).