Harlotry in Indy

No one has yet guessed the manufacture of the 'buttons' on my knitted mugs. It is not cat kibble, a toy wheel, or a bolt. It is not knitting related in any way. Rack your brains, folks. Here is another look:




Last night the Yarn Harlot, aka Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, top knitting humor writer in North America*, came to Indianapolis on her latest book tour. This is the first time in over two years of my reading her books and blog that she has come within a 2 hour drive, so of course I had to go. Arabella and Daddy decided they would be bored, so they stayed home (and went out to dinner at the local fancy pizzeria then to Starbucks for hot chocolate), and I hauled Sabine to Carmel.



First, the Harlot (so named for her unabashed inability to stay true to any one piece of knitting. She has "a hundred" projects going on at any one time) wasn't scheduled to speak until 7, but I had heard a rumor that lines form up to 5 hours ahead of time, so I got there at 5:20, and found:

Knitters everywhere. This was empty compared to later. I think there were at least 300 people, though I could be wrong.



Sabine, after she woke up, found a buddy to play with. Notice the beautiful handknit sweater. On the friend, though Sabine is wearing a sweater I knit.

I parked myself in the back, so the stroller and snoozing baby would be less obtrusive and easier for me to disappear with in case of screaming. However, as the crowds arrived the bookstore staff began filling in behind me with yet more chairs, so I was quickly boxed in.

The Harlot arrived and talked calmly, smoothly, and for over an hour about knitting and brain waves, knitting and violence, knitting and the publishing world, and about being locked out of her Calgary hotel room wearing nothing but a pair of panties with Cowgirl written across the 'arse'. Did I mention she's Canadian? She says arse. And has a cute bit of accent. When she arrived she admitted that when she was told she would be speaking in Indianapolis she did not have any idea where that is. Someone in the audience helpfully said, in Indiana, I think not realizing she hadn't a clue where Indiana was. I thought, that's ok, I didn't know where Indiana was (in a specific way) until I was getting ready to move here. Californians rarely worry too much about the exact placement of the other 49 states.

The Harlot taking pictures of the crowd. She said she sends these to her Mum to show this knitting thing is still going ok as a career.

I thought the most astonishing statement was her relating the experience of a friend who had a woman say to her "I am glad I have never been so bored to have to learn to knit." Sort of the penultimate version of the "how nice you have the spare time to knit" put-down. I didn't learn to knit because I had free time, I learned to knit because I was going to start pulling out hair strand by strand for fun if I didn't find something to keep my hands busy and productive while being an unintentional stay-at-home mom. Mothers of small children don't have "free" time, but I am not the kind of woman to sit on the floor with flash cards or dolls. I sometimes wish I were, but I am not so easily amused.

A bit of knitting humor. To frog is to completely unravel a piece of knitting. Notice the frog is holding a half-knit sock.

Showing off Sabine, Stephanie seemed a bit tired and overwhelmed. She asked if she knows me, I looked familar.
I gave Stephanie the Bluebell mug. I think she was puzzled about a potter showing up to her book signing. And no, she doesn't know what the buttons are either, so don't bother asking.