A Yarn about Yarn (and small businesses)

Yikes! Another knitting post! I promise if you hang in there I'll make it worth your while. Also--it's not just about knitting. It's also about America. And don't we all just feel so patriotic, what with the elections coming up? Ha! Sometimes I think it's probably a good idea that I don't teach 8th grade (American) history. Once I get going it's hard to stop.

ANYWAY.

On Thursday I was able to leave school around 3:00 rather than my usual 3:30. Ben gets mad at me when I pick him up too early because they have recess at 3:00, so I couldn't pick him up quite yet. So I headed over to pick Emma up. Across the street from Emma's daycare is a little yarn store. They have a great selection of yarn, and the proprietors are this Asian couple that crack me up. The wife sits at the table (yarn stores have tables where you can sit and knit) with her friends, knitting and shouting at each other in what sounds like Korean while the husband sits on a couch off to the side, stoically reading his paper. They usually look at me weird when I come in, but they're helpful when I ask, and the husband usually rings me up with that Resigned Husband look (and a smile if my kids are with me). None of their books or magazines are in English, and we don't really understand each other when we try to talk. But their selection is incredible, and I love the personality of the place. So...on my way to pick up Emma, I was really early, so I decided to stop by the yarn store on my way. I made Em a hat and legwarmers out of some yarn I got there, and I wanted to get some more so I could make a matching sweater. When I pulled into the parking lot the place was gone. No more signage, no more yarn. Gone. I got really sad. I mean, I can buy this yarn online. But I hate paying shipping, and I'd really come to love this quirky little place. Sad.

I picked up the kids and still had a bit of time before I needed to get home, so I headed over to another yarn store that's fairly close to my house. I don't go there often because the proprietor is not very friendly, but they have a ton of yarn, and I knew they had the kind I needed for this sweater. Gone. Seriously. No signage, no yarn. It's like it never existed. Now, I took a break from buying yarn this summer because I bought a lot during some sales in the spring and I was trying to be good and use what I had. But two yarn stores at the same time? I was devastated. Because now I was going to need to buy the yarn online and pay shipping. And yarn is different than books. How a yarn feels is important. I don't like buying it until I've touched it. Sure, sometimes I do what I did on Thursday and go into a yarn store for a specific item. But more often I go into a yarn store to browse--to touch and feel and be inspired. I fall in love with yarn in a yarn store. I fall in love with knitting in a yarn store. And not only that, but all the yarn stores that I know of also offer classes and workshops. Which, for someone like me who really has no serious knitting friends that live close enough so we can sit and knit together, is nice. I've given lessons to friends and neighbors, but (and this isn't to be snotty), I'm the most advanced local knitter that I know, so it's nice to have help when I need it. And did I mention touching the yarn? Sigh.

From the second closed yarn store I decided to go to one more that was within a reasonable distance. When I lost my knitting bag, it contained a small booklet of patterns that I loved. It's a British booklet, so it's hard to find, even online. But I'd purchased it at this last yarn store, which also happens to be my favorite. They have a small selection of expensive stuff, so I really can only buy there on a splurge. But the proprietor is lovely, and the ladies at the table are so sweet and are constantly oohing and aahing over my children. I love it there. So I went to get my book. Thankfully, it was still open. The woman working wasn't the proprietor, but she was very sweet. I couldn't find my book, and she spent 10 minutes helping me search for it. My kids were tearing the place apart, reorganizing yarn and books. I spent most of my time running from kid to kid, trying to put back everything those quick little buggers were taking out. But I finally found the book, and I think the woman was more excited than me. And while I was frustrated and embarrassed about my crazy kids, she could have cared less about the mess.

Guys--we need small businesses. No one on Amazon is going to spend that kind of time and energy helping you find a stupid book. The employees of Barnes and Noble don't yell at each other in Korean while the husband sits on the couch and reads a paper. Sure, big businesses are often cheaper and more convenient. And I frequent them. But sometimes people don't want to work for a big company with a CEO in the sky that pays them minimum wage and no sick days. They dream of running their own little quiet bookshop or yarn store or whatever that lets them live their passion and pay the bills and foster community in their town.

So don't let the little stores die. I hate paying shipping.

Sweet Em, in a sweater knit with some delicious Angora from the Crazy Asian Yarn Store