Stunned, I stared at the door, it was shut tight. After waiting for weeks, and traveling thousands of miles, I was locked out. Disappointment overwhelmed me, this was not the outcome I had envisioned. Months earlier I had read an “Atlas Obscura” article about the Crochet Club of Cloughmills in Northern Ireland. The ladies of … Continue reading Cloughmills Crochet Club
Enticed by a billboard proclaiming “The World’s Largest Rocking Chair,” we turned our RV off the interstate to investigate. Unexpected adventures like this are the best part of travel. When I saw the next sign, I dropped my yarn, jumped from my seat, and shouted “YES.” Ahead were “The World’s Largest Knitting Needles.” It was … Continue reading The World’s Largest What?!
I have sipped my way through a sophisticated wine crawl. I have chugged along on a pub crawl. I have even done a tequila crawl after too much Patron. But this was my first yarn crawl, and I was nervous. I had decided to travel to Portland, Oregon to participate in the, “Rose City Yarn … Continue reading Yarn Crawl
Our helicopter banked sharply to the right. I could see straight down to the canyon floor, thousands of feet below us. Mist from the clouds swirled through the cabin. I clung to the strap that was bolted above my head, my fingers aching from the tight grip. I wasn’t sure if it was wind, tears, … Continue reading The Helicopter Ride
I will attempt to say this as politely as possible. I do not want there to be any hurt feelings. I am pretty darn sure that my yarn is not (I will whisper now), as smart as other people’s yarn. My yarn simply cannot do what others peoples yarn does. In her book “The … Continue reading My Yarn is “slow”
We had spent the morning exploring the narrow, earthen alleys and passageways of the souk in Fes, Morocco, on a blistering hot day. We had seen everything from master wood carvers at work, to huge vats of tanned leather, and even a severed camels head, hanging from a stall in the meat market. When I … Continue reading Yarn: Dead or Alive?
I was standing on a three foot wide wooden walkway, the walkway was suspended from the side of a towering cliff. Gusts of wind blasted me, while I held my helmet to my head with my hand, and plaster my body against the canyon wall to stay upright. I was beginning to question my decision … Continue reading Caminito Del Rey