Yarn, at the Waterfowl Fest? Why, yes! There happens to be a little yarn shop on Harrison Street, and last year when I stopped in, I picked up some really unique lace weight handspun, hand-dyed wool. I have yet to work it up, but it is still pretty and I plan to begin working it after Christmas projects are complete. Well, I wanted to stop in again this year because I was hoping to find some more unique yarn to add to my collection (and yes, I realize that 3 weeks or a month ago, I was all about thinning it out--I still am...but I have a serious addiction).
Into the shop we went on Saturday afternoon. I was one of maybe 3 customers. I was not greeted, nor was I acknowledged. At all. As I browsed, thinking to myself that I wasn't going to leave empty-handed, I couldn't help but overhear the responses that the shop owner (?) had for each of the questions the other customers had for her. Every single one of her responses was negative. And it wasn't just a "No, we don't currently have that--but I'm expecting more in a couple of weeks" type of negative. It was a rude negative, almost as though she was fed up that people had the nerve to enter her store during operating hours. How dare they!!
Those of you that know me are aware of the great lengths to which I go in order to obtain yarn. Brace yourselves, because this may come as a shock: I told Husband, not in a whisper, that I didn't need to support someone who can't even say hello to her customers and that I was ready to leave.
It wasn't until yesterday, shortly before we left, that Husband suggested we go into a particular tent. And what did they have? Alpacas.
And yarn.
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