Admissions of a Slacker

I should be ashamed of myself. I realized today that it has been NEARLY A MONTH since the Yarn Harlot came to speak, and I have yet to blog about it. Or anything else, for that matter. I am a Blog Slacker. My three regular readers (if there are that many) must have been horribly disappointed in me this month.

As it turns out, no harm has been done. I have vivid memories of the evening of knitterly delight. I carpooled with three other enthusiastic knitters. We, of course, wanting a good seat, arrived three hours early. They had less than 100 chairs out, and didn't seem to notice that half we already filled. Nonetheless, we scored several front row seats off to the side. See?

We met a charming woman behind us, who doesn't knit but was saving seats for her do sisters that do knit. Does that make her a squib? Someone from a knitting family who doesn't knit?

The hours flew by as we chatted with other knitters, ooohed and ahhhed over knitting in progress and in finished form, and waited in breathless (Ok, maybe that was just me, little Thumper presses on my diaphragm something awful) anticipation.

The bookstore people must have finally gotten the hint and set out more chairs. Someone (I suspect a yarn store representative) put out a few welcoming knit-related signs. Finally, she appeared. The famous Stephanie Pearl-McPhee. She was just as funny as she is on her blog, in her books, and in my dreams. I was laughing so hard at times, I thought I would go into early labor. Naturally, everyone wanted to meet her at the signing afterwards, whether they had a book to sign or not. I didn't, but all three of my carpoolers did, and I had noooo objection to waiting in line with them. Stephanie had stated that people "with babies on the inside or outside" could cut in line, I didn't. Though I did swipe a folding chair to use at intervals in the line.

Other than happening too fast, meeting her was a dream come true. We presented the Indiana- themed washcloth (very clever, wish I could take credit for any part of its creation), and even rated a picture with Stephanie's traveling sock. I assume that my giant belly earned the right to hold the sock.

Today, it is all about the Harlot.