We have a great location. We’re a half a block off Rockland’s main street, and Main St. is a happenin’ place. When summer hits, there are thousands and thousand of folks around. We are right across from the big public parking lot the serves downtown. We have 1100 square feet of retail floor and two class rooms. We have big beautiful windows at street level for fabulous displays.
This is an Old Historic building. And Old Historic buildings have Old Historic construction…and plumbing…and wiring. There are things we have needed to do to bring our space into the 21st century. We’ve been doing them, one step at a time, but the more we dug into it the more we found that needs fixing. And I’ve learned way more than I ever wanted to know about 5/8” sheetrock, furring channels, domestic water sprinkler systems, expanding foam fire barriers, etc., etc., ad nauseum.
The sad news was that each revelation meant more time and more money before we could finally be able to open our doors to you all. My architect kept telling me, “These are just hoops to jump through. Keep breathing. Don’t panic and don’t bail.” So, we’ve been jumping through the hoops. We persevered. We committed to doing what it takes to be here.
Now comes the pay off. The wind howled and the wicked witch has flown by on her broom at least a dozen times. Now the weather has cleared and we’ve woken from our bad dream. The house has settled down somewhere and we’re just about to open the door. I’m thinking there’s a bright beautiful world out there full of color and adventure. I hope you’ll all travel that road with me, because we are finally, finally over the rainbow. And we’ll see you all in person soon.
Though it can’t come too soon for me. Mim xo
Over the past month we have had a parade of people through here trying to help us jump through our remodeling hoops. We have had the local code enforcement officer and the city assistant fire marshal We have had the state safety permit review officer and the landlord. We have had two carpenters, two contractors, a drywaller, an electrician/plumber, and two fire retardant foam technicians and an architect. They have all wanted to look at what’s above our nine foot suspended ceiling to the original 13 foot tin ceiling above. With one praiseworthy exception they have all looked me square in the eye and asked…
“Do you have a ladder?”
I am a knitter, a crocheter, a spinner, a weaver and a felter. I have and impressive collection of needles and hooks and pattern books. I have a spinning wheel and half a dozen drop spindles. I have an inkle loom and weaving cards. I have wool combs and tapestry needles and even a latching rug hook. I’m a fiber artist. Do I look like I carry around a ladder in my project bag?
So guess what I brought in to the shop today?
It’s a Little Giant (http://www.littlegiantladder.com/) that expands into a 13 foot extension and “can be used safely on stairs, ramps, curbs, docks or other uneven surfaces.” It has “new patented triple-locking hinge” that makes it “sturdier than ever in the extended position.” It “is made of heavy-wall, 6005-T5 aluminum, the very same material used in aerospace construction. So it’s ultra-strong while remaining light and portable.” It is “government-rated to hold up to 300 pounds, but has survived brutal stress testing of up to 1200 pounds with absolutely no structural failure.”
I’ll probably use it to change lightbulbs. Mim xo
I have been knitting since I was 7 years old. Since I am almost 50, that means 43 years of experience. The thing I have always been most fascinated with is the structure of it all; I love how a single strand winds a path over about and through itself to create knitted fabric. Itʼs why I love Aran knitting more than Faire Isle. Color is glorious, to be sure, but fascinating structure is where itʼs at for me.
Until this week, I have thought awfully highly of myself. I have not completed any guild course that confers titles, but I consider myself a master knitter. I use the lower case “m” to distinguish myself from Master Knitters, and I mean no disrespect to those who have earned their credentials through some official channels. But I have street cred; I earned my stripes in the trenches. I can figure out just about anything, answer just about any questions, and teach folks just about all they want to learn (and in some cases more than they want to learn.) I make things up as I go along, sometimes with the help of stitch dictionaries (Barbara Walker and the Harmony Guides are my favorites.) and sometimes simply out of my own creative well spring. I wing it and almost always get what I want. Accomplished, thatʼs me. An expert.
But write it down? Cheese-Louise. I donʼt like to do the same thing twice so I donʼt usually pay attention to what I actually did in the first place. I just make it work. Write it down? Why? Well, so someone else can make it work, of course. How hard could that be?
I have been quick to be critical of designers who write imprecise patterns full of mistakes. I pride myself, snob that I am, on intuiting what they really meant to write…or I modify their original designs to suit myself anyway so what does it matter (she says with a superior air and a wink to the side.) Never again, I tell you.
The Pine Cone and Tassel cup warmer pattern (available free on our brand new Ravelry Designer page here) kicked my arse in a whole new way.
I wung it like I always do and thought I could just short-hand the patter something along these lines: “Do a 7 stitch 1×1 rib edging on each side and a standard tree-of-life Aran thingy in the middle. Put some button holes on one end and divide it up on the other end to go around the cup handle.”
But when I put it that way to a competent knitter I know she looked at me with a completely blank expression…waiting for the punchline, so to speak. And I realized I would have to me a little more clear. No…a lot more clear. So I had to go back and look at this tiny, simple little thing I had created and figure out how to write down precise, step-by-step instructions that could be easily followed by only moderately motivated novices. A whole new learning curve for me. Who would have thought? It took me a whole day to write down. A whole day to parse 16 rows of pattern. Oh, how are the mighty fallen.
I vow here and now that I will never speak or even think critically of designers again. I promise I will give nothing but respect for the brilliant knitters who are able to clearly express their process so I and everyone else can follow it. I am an accomplished knitter, and a passing fair writer, and I know I will master this skill of scribing patterns. But, oh, my lovelies, itʼs going to take me some time and patience.