Yesterday saw the inaugural Indie Burgh Yarn Crawl in Edinburgh. Hundreds of knitters* visited three of Edinburgh's finest yarn shops - Kathy's Knits, Be Inspired Fibres and Ginger Twist Studio - before meeting up for an after-party at Safari Lounge. Several Glasgow friends saw it as a great opportunity to try out new-to-them yarn shops; I needed to meet up with Susan Crawford (who was doing a meet & greet in Ginger Twist Studio); and there was a special birthday celebration too.
* literally, hundreds.
Away we went.
And it was good.
We started out at Kathy's Knits where I was delighted to meet Lucy Hague, designer of exquisite cables. The book selection was great as per usual, and I nearly succumbed to Blacker Yarns' St Kilda lace yet again. Instead we went across the road to have lunch - oh, those smoked salmon bagels- before heading out to Be Inspired Fibres.
The yarn crawl was starting to get busy now: the queue for the till was nearly 15 minutes long and I scrambled to find dye lots for knitters (with Mei's permission). Friends fell in love with Mei's selection of yarn and came away with quite significant hauls. I was particularly pleased to see the massive love of Nordic yarns and books. A special shout-out to Leona from Fluph (Dundee's newest LYS) who had left her shop in the capable hands and paws of Mr & Doggy Fluph to go yarn crawling. That is what I call knitterly dedication!
After a much needed breath of fresh air, the end was in sight and we made our way to Ginger Twist Studio. At which point this happened:

GTS is like the Kylie Minogue of yarn shops: small, but perfectly formed. Because of its petite nature, we had to wait our turn to go inside. Thankfully Thinking Chocolate was next door and I spent a happy fifteen minutes talking flavour concepts and chocolate-making with TC's Nadia. You should try her amazing haggis-inspired truffles: chocolate truffles flavoured with black pepper, mace, nutmeg and salt.
Back to GTS and then it looked like this:

It felt like being back at the scrum of the Edinburgh yarn festival. Eventually I made it through the crowd, gave Susan some much needed (artisan) chocolate, and I ended up with a lot of Susan's new yarn, Fenella. It's a 3-ply mix of Exmoor Blueface and Bluefaced Leicester - and it is lovely.

The after-party at the Safari Lounge looked amazing - there is no party like a knitter's party - but unfortunately most of us had to leave before the party really kicked off. I did get a chance to admire yarn crawl hauls and talk a tiny bit of Swedish with a woman who had come over from Stockholm for yarn crawl reasons (amazing). I was also getting really tired after all the sunshine, all the yarn, and all the people.
Then, thankfully, it was time to kick back with a bit of Pimm's, a very cute dog and a chillin' BBQ with copious yarn talk (no photos because all logical thoughts fly out my head when I'm tickling a dog's tummy).
It was nearly midnight before I finally arrived home. The sky was still light. I was tired but happy. What a lovely way to spend Midsummer.
(pssst. yes, work was involved but you will find out more this autumn and early next year)
(psssssst. thank you to Elaine for getting me use her twitter pun as my blog post title)


Just over a fortnight ago I waved goodbye to my part-time job with Rowan Yarns. It took me a few days to get used to my new routine and, crucially, having more time to do my own work. There was some initial panic (which briefly me led to consider an art school degree!), then my stomach settled down, and I got on with work.
Keep an eye on
I have always been drawn to liminal spaces. Places that are thresholds (like beaches, doorways, or bridges). I think it stems from always feeling slightly out of time and place myself. Part of my continual fascination with the Doggerland landscape is that we only know glimpses and we can only see traces. Early pottery in northern Europe can be interpreted as having that liminal quality too - we only find tiny fragments and they speak of a transitional culture moving through an uncertain time and space.
Pottery can seem so straightforward to modern people and we can play with its perceived primitivism in our heads: man reaches down and scoops up a handful of humble soil; with his bare hands, he sculpts a crude looking retainer; the small pot is baked on a fire. The reality is somewhat different as pottery is a sophisticated technology. Still, there is something so very fundamental about the relationship between earth and fire - one that calls for story-telling and myth-making.