Tuesday, August 07, 2012


Scene: 2 nights pre-vacation, Larry accosts me, worry etched on his face.

Look, honey, we're planning a FAMILY trip.

Oh, really?  I guess that would explain why I'm packing for 7 people then.

I saw what you were Googling earlier.  Do you think that's fair to us?  What about me?  Our marriage?

I don't know what you are talking about!

Denial - that's a dangerous sign.  Look, right here in the search history...

Hardly a den of iniquity...
"Ithaca Yarn Stores"?

Yes!  Is that necessary?  I thought you had quit.


Yes, the sneaking around, the nights yarn-crawling, all that...

I'm NOT that bad.

Oh, yeah?  What about our vacation in Acadia?  What then?

Look, your sister Kate and I were just taking a walk.  We didn't know there was a local yarn shop right down the street.  Or that Bar Harbor had a nifty fabric store....

That's what I mean!  You're just enabling each other.

No!  We were on vacation!  We were just looking!

Every time she comes to stay here, it's a craft orgy, just admit it.  And in front of the kids!

[Hmmm, he has a point there...]

I don't think you should be spending our vacation searching for your next hit of yarn fumes, is all.  And what is this mess here?

I'm packing!

Packing?  You're surrounded by your entire yarn stash and about 30 different sets of needles and...and...what ARE these things, anyway?

Crochet hooks - and I NEED them!  What am I supposed to do while we are camping?  Stare into the woods?  Watch you burn dinner on the campstove?  For heaven's sake, Larry, there's only so much nature one city girl can take.

Larry walks away, shaking his head and mumbling something about Yarn-Anon.  Exeunt.

[Yarn store image: Knitting Etc.]


  1. We are heading up that way this weekend to see family. That is, we WERE. Or, we MIGHT BE.

    Because see, the kids are in the throes of hand foot and mouth disease so we might just be forced to stay at home and NOT get to see the relatives that have traveled all the way from the tippy corner of the West Coast, sob.

  2. My stock response to any questioning along those lines is "I could be a heroin addict?!"

  3. I honestly don't see why he is making such a big deal about this.
    (said by the woman with about 20-fourteen gallon totes full of fabric, hiding out in my storage room)

  4. The way I know this wasn't the "word for word" conversation? Even a yarn lover's husband doesn't use the term "yarn stash" like we do.

  5. Gaa. I spent a week on the Maine coast and my friends and I wandered through a little town with a swell yarn shop and I bought several skeins of the purtiest stuff, and then I remembered I didn't know how to knit. I still have them.

    1. It's the yarn fumes - they'll get you every time.

  6. If he's looking at your search history to determine which yarn stores you will visit, then I say he is a lucky man!

  7. My husband just nods and says, It's better than meth. Larry needs some perspective.

    Jennifer Jo, I once went on a moms club day trip full of small children and pregnant women while unknowingly in the throes of hand-foot-and mouth. I had a fever that would kill a horse, I was taking advil every 2 hours to stay on top of it, but I had no idea what it was until a couple days later when the fever broke and my fingers blistered. The day trip involved a BOAT. My 3yo was ecstatic--we were going. (I had a 1yo too--the 3yo had a vague sore throat the week before, the 1yo nursed extra, who knew it was hand foot & mouth? Apparently it's not that bad for the small people but if you don't get it as a kid it knocks you sideways as an adult.)

    My long-winded point is, go anyway. Seriously. We are all unknowingly being exposed to much worse just doing the grocery shopping, and trust me, it's better if the relatives' kids get it as children anyway.

    1. Amy, Thanks! I've heard the opposite, though---that it's worse for the littles and almost non-existent for the grown-ups, but my older son's version is really rotten (no H and F spots, just the mouth), so who knows.

      And anyway, we just got a report from the relatives saying that all the cousins have been violently stricken with poison ivy because they, silly kids, built a castle out of poison ivy. So maybe we'll just go up and call it The Weekend of the Red Spots.

  8. lol I'm not into yarn but can totally relate. I'm this way with books!

  9. My husband had the exact same conversation with me. About wine bottles.

  10. "Stare into the woods?"

    Ha! Yes, this is what you should do. I guess.

  11. Yarn fumes! That must be what draws me to the local quilt shop's yarn supply. I go in for some thread and I just have to run my fingers over all that yarn to feel the textures and dream of things to make and I don't even knit. The fumes must get more concentrated with a large supply because I think I can smell them now......

    (Wondering where this shop is, aren't you?)

  12. Completely off topic, but I think following your blog has given us lice. Seriously! Never had it roll through until now and I've been bouncing around your older posts (many of which focus on pests of one form or another) and thinking, " Gee, kids, vomit, mice....lice. Well, at least we haven't had lice!" Which naturally invited the dreaded pests into our home. Anyhoo, love your humor, thanks for the lice.

  13. Just point Larry to your Pinterest vacation pins... I don't think I saw a yarn store amongst the many waterfalls. If nothing else, it will make him feel better.

  14. My sisters and I are all like this. My craft stash trends towards paints, wire, found objects. My middle sister is all about fabric. The youngest is a knitter and she sniffs out yarn stores like a junkie looking for crack. She knits as a way to control her smoking and then--last year--began knitting a scarf shaped like a gigantic cigarette to wear as a warning to co-workers when she was in a bad mood. I guess there could be worse things to be addicted to.

  15. You're famous on my blog today . . . .

  16. LOL. I have now found a yarn store in downtown Gville. Am going as soon as I can.

  17. It starts with regular yarn and then all of a sudden you're on the streets, desperate, willing to do anything for a hit of angora. We're going camping too. I'll think about you sitting there staring and jonesing while I'm sitting there staring and napping.