Neither snow, nor sleet, shall keep me away from the Yarn Harlot

So I'm about 1 month and 5 days late on this post. My excuse? I was going through a rough and stressful time with some other things going on. Although I doubt anyone would actually miss this entry if I hadn't told them that I hadn't written it. Circular reasoning can stink.

On April 10th, the Yarn Harlot, Stephanie Pearl-McPhee came to Minnesota. The tickets were free, so I drove a two hour round trip to pick them up, buy a skein of yarn I didn't need at the Yarnery, to get the free tickets. I've read most of her books, I've shaken my husband awake at night by laughing too hard while reading them. I was going, and N was going with me.

That night we were expecting another snowstorm. Not a new thing in Minnesnowta, but we were tired of all the cold and white stuff by then. Of course it would happen on THE NIGHT of the Harlot. We took off early in my newly acquired truck, armed with at least two knitting projects each, we were going to see The Harlot.

It snowed a lot. It got to be so bad I couldn't see very far in front of me. Was I being an idiot, risking life and limb in this weather to see a Harlot? She'd come again, maybe in the summer this time. That wouldn't been the way to go in the first place. Note to self: tell Stephanie it's not safe to come to MN in the spring.

We stopped for dinner at Leann Chin's and watched the snow whirl around us. It was so bad, it looked like my truck had been sitting in the parking lot all night. Should we turn back? Should we go on? By the time we were finished eating, the storm had lessened. It was a sign; we were going to see The Harlot.

The U of St. Thomas didn't have parking near the building. Smart. Invite 600 women with pointy sticks to the campus on a wintry night and tell them that they have to walk a couple blocks outside. It's a wonder the workers there weren't stabbed with any DPN's. In all actuality, there was a feeling of giddyness and comraderie among the women we met. One lady asked if we were going to see The Harlot (the clue must have been the trailing ends of yarn from our bags) and asked if she could walk with us. We knitters banded together and stormed through, undaunted.

Once there, I forgot about the snow, the sleet, the few more inches of accumulation that would happen while we were here. Here were kindred spirits. Wearing this sweater or that scarf or that pair of socks. They were knitting, talking about knitting, they were buying yarn. I looked at N and she looked at me. We stepped away from the sales tables before we could be overcome by the yarn fumes.

We found a couple good seats and started knitting. The lady next to me asked if she could pet my sweater, I was wearing my Tangled Yoke. I asked about her socks. I probably could have asked almost anyone there about their projects or what they were wearing and they would have been flattered and pleased.

The Yarnery did a fantastic job. We got these cool bags for free. They had Yarnery Singers. The songs were based on the Sound of Music, they were hilarious. Shelley Kang put hers up youtube if you want to see them. They were giving out prizes. Then, the Harlot.

She was funny, but she was more than funny. She shared this article on how knitting actually helps your brain, helps keep it from trauma and develops new pathways. Everything about it was positive. I'd love to get a copy of that article if anyone knows where to find it.

I knit away on my printed silk cardi and then the little mitered squares when it got dark. They got hopelessly bungled and I've only just recently gone back to them to fix them. It was over far too soon. I wish we could have stayed later to get a book signed or to see if we'd win one of their 100 prizes. But the weather was bad and darn it all, I needed to go to work in the morning. I'd do it all again next year though, bad weather and all.

Yesterday, my husband said that he heard the Yarn Harlot on MPR. My response was, "you don't even knit! How did you get to hear her and not me?" His response: "I heard needles clicking." Good thing I didn't have pointy sticks in my hand while he was smiling smugly. I found the article. What do my wondering eyes see? Me and N in the audience! We're in the photo of the "Harlot fans." Though a little blurry, I'm in the 3rd row from the front, 2nd from the right in the cream/white.

Fuel to get tickets: $12
Yarn that I didn't need: $8
Fuel to see the Harlot: $16

Seeing the Harlot and getting your photo in an MPR article: priceless.