Tangle knitters

Here in the Portland area we have an almost embarrassing number of local yarn shops. We knitters here are very lucky. And the shops are very diverse. There’s one to suit the mood of every fiber junky, whether looking for the trendy and hip or the classic and elegant. It’s all here. And most of it is available via mass transit.

But there are so many, and new ones spring up at regular intervals. So, while sad, it’s not too surprising to hear now and then that one will be closing. Except one never thinks that it will be one’s favorite yarn shop. It’s always the one that you didn’t go to all that much, you know.

But today… it was my favorite. Tangle will close on June 14th. I am so sad. 😥

I have been hanging around Tangle almost since it opened. When I first came back to knitting and realized that there were places that sold only yarn, and it was good yarn, and I didn’t need to buy my yarn at Michael’s. And I could wander in to this amazing yarn store and just breath yarn fumes and sit and knit and chat and be amongst my people. And Alice didn’t even mind! At Tangle, I met women of every age and every shape and size and color and knitting ability. And every one is a treasure that I am so much richer for knowing.

Judy’s Magic Cast On was born in my family room, but it was refined at Tangle. I can remember some of the conversations that took place:
Me: Is this something that’s cool?
Knit Buds: Yes! You should publish it.
Me: Really? Do you think anyone would really be interested?
Knit Buds: YES! Publish it! NOW!
Me: OK

Without the downright insistence gentle nudge from my Tangle Knit Buds, JMCO would still be just that thing that only I know how to do when I start the toes of socks.

At Tangle, with Alice’s encouragement I learned to teach knitting. My first sock class was such a disaster, and my long-suffering students so understanding and so patient. I think I learned as much or more from them. (I made exactly zero on that first class because I had to keep reprinting my handout. It was full of errors.)

On Thursday nights it doesn’t matter if I am early or late or tired or happy or whatever. I am welcomed into the circle, and if there isn’t an empty chair one is found, and a glass of wine is poured, and everyone asks how my socks are coming along, and I feel myself relax as I pick up my needles. And we chat and laugh together, and sometimes cry together, and before I know it it’s time to go home.

Between the lime green walls, nestled in the yarn cubbies, amongst the knitting circle chairs, around the finicky swift… Tangle holds my heart.