The Knitting Fiend

Yesterday, Mom emailed me:

“The bambini are delaying their return from Turin so I need a diversion. What about a trip to DeKalb to purchase some hand-knitting yarn?”

Most would probably ask: “Bambini? Turin? Huh?!”

I focused, and answered: “Road trip to The Yarn Exchange, tomorrow, bright and early!”

Mom had never been to The Yarn Exchange, but had heard my reports. She got up at the crack of dawn this morning and drove 45 miles to my place. After she arrived, I drove her 45 miles to Dekalb.

We got there 10 minutes before the store opened, and peered through the window. As anyone can see from the pictures, this store is stocked to attract both machine and hand knitters.

One we entered, I concentrated on the coned yarns. I found some $8/lb green/black/white marl acrylic on a 2 lb cone; $10/lb mohair-wool yarn, both of which would make Jim gorgeous sweaters. Mom and I conferred, and decided that, even though the wool-mohair, is technically a better deal, Jim needs some every day sweaters to wear in the lab. The acrylic is more practical; and it’s a good deal.

I put off buying the wool-mohair for my next trip. (Ok. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m also figuring that by the time I get ready for the next trip, I’ll have the sideways knit raglan pattern down pat. I may splurge and buy the $60 cashmere-cotton blend on cones. Coned yarn doesn’t photograph well, but talk about abeautiful sheen. And soft! )

Yep, $60 lb yarn coexisting with $8 /lb yarn on one shelf. Can you tell the stock in this store spans a huge price range? Who’d expect that in central Illinois?

Even bigger surprises awaited us. Mom strayed to the back of the store; she walked right by the economy yarns and past the pricier, but still sensible yarns. She reached that corner bin in the dark corner next to the window in the photo. There she met the love of her life:

Her plan had been to make a sweater for my nephew Andy. But, not out of $12/ounce alpaca! Unfortunately, having, seen the alpaca, she just couldn’t fall in love with anything else for the time being. It put her off buying yarn entirely.

After I bought my yarn, I decided pie might console her. We went to Baker’s Square where I ate a peanut butter chocolate pie, and Mom had a chocolate mint French silk pie. All poor mom could talk about was that alpaca.

I know Mom. Here’s what’s going to happen. Mom will flip through her pattern books, and find a pattern for some lacy item for herself. Then she’ll suggest another trip and buy that gorgeous alpaca. I suspect the next trip will happen within the next month or so.