a tiny corner of the marketplace

Did I mention that there was yarn at Madrona? Yarn and fiber and spindles and wheels and needles and hooks and amazing things – all in one room.

I didn’t buy any yarn. Really.

I bought books. A German stitch dictionary and a Japanese felting book that makes me want to die the little things in it are so amazingly cute. Felted postage stamps. And little squirrels. And six little penguins in an ice cube tray. And flowers. And… get this one, now… bean sprouts.

I bought some really cool little tiny, tiny crochet hooks that were recommended by Sivia Harding. They are smaller sizes than even my old, old, old set, which means they can be used for even tiny beads with tiny holes. And they’re really short and can be hung on a key ring.

And there may have been a figured walnut nostepinne that came home with me. Maybe.

shopping with Sivia

And I did get to go shopping with Sivia Harding and a bunch of other wonderful people.

And I had a little chat over coffee with Lucy Neatby.

And I took a class from Nancy Bush.

And I traded iPhone apps with The Yarn Harlot.

And I saw so many fun and wonderful people that I can’t even list all of them.

I love Madrona because the entire hotel is taken over by fiberistas of all kinds. So there are knitters in the bar and spinners in the lobby. And people are petting each others’ hand knits while waiting for the elevators. And so I met and chatted with many amazing people.

[waving to the gal who I ate dinner and breakfast with! How was your dying class?]

sensory overload at Shipwreck Beads

On the way home I stopped at Shipwreck Beads.

They bill themselves as the largest bead store in the world, and I believe it. This isn’t even all of the store. There are rows and rows of just crystals. And more rows of semi-precious stone. And more rows of wood. And precious metals. And all of the findings and tools and stuff that you could ever want.

There may have been a few beads that came home with me. You know I hung around with Sivia quite a bit. Just saying.

it's a little damp here

And this is just one more picture that I took on the way home in a rest area right off I-5 that sort of explains a lot about why I love living in the Pacific Northwest.

That is a tree. (duh, Judy. OK. But hang with me for a sec.) The tree has thick, green, springy, gorgeous moss growing all over it. And there, on that branch high above my head, is a whole colony of ferns growing out of the moss. I’ll let that settle just a bit.

Ferns. Growing out of moss. That’s growing on a tree. Next to a freeway.

Yes, it means it’s a bit damp here. But such loveliness and such quiet, deep beauty. Such optimism and perseverance. Such strength.

I just read the list of sock summit teachers and I think I’m going to faint.