spaazlicious

I got a job. Just a little job, working at a local yarn store, teaching classes and (wo)manning the cash register and answering endless variations of the "how can I make a gorgeous timeless piece in almost no time with almost no money" type and "how many skeins of this do I need to make a sweater" (for this exercise you run around the store grabbing random hanks of yarn, and despite my picking up an identical skein, reading you the yardage and calculating the averages and variations out loud [because you never decided whether you wanted to make a st st sweater or a textured sweater] you ask the question each time, every time, making no attempt to read the labels and figure it out yourself.)

It's just a part-time job, but it's amazing how used to endless free-time I became, and it actually feels like a big adjustment.

And I'm in a quandary. Should I identify the LYS? I'd love it if people would come visit me while I'm there, to knit and dish, and Cristina knows which one it is, and here's a clue: it's one I never set foot in before I went in for a job, but at the same time, maybe it should remain un-named here, for the time being.

Anyway, on with my first week of employment at a LYS in pictures:

Look! VM from Taiwan!
(Crystal Palace yarns all seemed to be marked "Spun in Taiwan")


Is it just me, or are these barfy colourways? Something about the "kid merino" reminds me of tattoos on corpse skin (something about those not quite primary colours against a sallow yellow) And that Optik, well, go see Manuel the Marsupial's pouch for a non-barfy colourway. It is possible.


This "Poof" reminds me of pubic hair, but there's a sampler knit with a couple of squares and you should hear how the ladies go batshit over it. They still don't buy it though.


Here's a scarf I've been knitting in the store's logo colours (another clue, I guess) made from CP "kid merino" (in a non-barfy self-striping colourway) and CP's "Dragonfly" (they were even less diligent about recreating dragonfly form in the yarn than I was for this, if that's possible)


The week was so full of dull afternoons and no one buying and me inventory-tagging and price-tagging and sorting and displaying endless amounts of novelty yarns I despaired of anyone ever buying...that I decided to bend over to clean out a waste basket and slam my forehead into a display hook so hard I split the skin and grew a horn. Since I had a pricing gun handy, I re-calibrated appropriately and tagged myself (as in "I say I ain't giving you no tree fiddy you goddamned Loch Ness monster, get yo own goddamned money!") and took a piccie like a diligent blogger.

Please note the burgeoning blood, and how I suffer for my art.