Don’t drop your yarn!

Mohair, originally uploaded by autumnbriars.

Christine came over yesterday, and we went to check out A Tangled Skein, a LYS I’ve been looking for an excuse to visit.

The store itself was wonderful–just big enough without being overwhelming, good variety of old standbys and local stuff, warm and friendly staff, and I’ll definitely go back. I got to fondle lots of sock yarn, look closely at a pair of Darn Pretty Needles, (I’m not cultured enough to see where they’re so different from Knit Picks Harmony wood)  and check out Flat Feet (love the idea, not smitten with the colors).

The fluffiness above came home with me and is destined to become Branching Out. I also picked up a set of Lantern Moon Sock Sticks in ebony.  More on those once I’ve used them enough to form an opinion.

As is nearly always the case when Christine and I go somewhere, the trip was an adventure. We were driving home, following the directions supplied by my navigation doohickey, and I am quite sure they weren’t the best possible route.

We stop at a redlight, and watch a weed whacker bounce out of the back of a big old pickup. Three things happened simultaneously , and in the span on one redlight.

One: The car who was directly behind the truck stopped dead in the face of the weedwhacker. The traffic was too heavy to swerve around it, and the car was too small to risk driving over it, even if the driver had been enough of a jerk to do such a thing. The driver–a slight Asian boy–gets out, delicately picks up the roadblock, and carries it over to the side of the road, setting it gently on the grass next to the sidewalk.

Two: The truck, suddenly aware that it is one weedwhacker short of a load, jumps a curb to park on a little grassy area and the passenger–a large redneck looking man with an ugly mustache–starts hauling ass across the road to get his missing equipment.

Three: A big, white pickup with a cap over to bed turns the corner, slows down, and steals the weedwacker!  Except that somehow, we don’t see this happen.  All we see is that suddenly, the weedwacker is no longer there.

By the time Mustache Man made it to the corner, there was nothing there, though clearly, it had been mere seconds before. I guess the guy who had taken it realized he was in danger of being busted, or maybe just felt guilty, because the next think we knew the truck was slowing down just enough to open the door and hand the weedwhacker out to Mustache Man.

Seriously? Who steals a weed whacker? And what kind of neighborhood were we in that lawn equipment couldn’t last three seconds on the side of the road? All Christine could say was, “Don’t drop your yarn!” No kidding.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Christine
    Jun 14, 2008 @ 12:35:31


    That was so much fun.

    You forgot to mention, Left Hand Turn From the Far Right Lane of Three Lanes of Traffic Man.



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June 2008
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