In Spokane, Sarah and I were looking forward to visiting Holy Threads, the very cool yarn shop I had found there last fall. Not only was it large and yarn-laden, but it had a welcoming, empowering spirit about it – at least, that is what I had experienced. I was eager to find out if it would feel that way on this trip as well and whether Sarah would sense it too. And I was eager to pet all their yarn. I was actually wearing the Spokane Ferocity tunic made from yarn I had bought during my inspirational fit in that very shop last fall.

This was to be our single fun-yarn-shopping-outing during a busy week in Spokane (helping my son, Geoff, with his illusion show – he is a professional magician and juggler who performs sideshow-style feats and escapes – and you were thinking, perhaps, I was a sane and normal woman…). Not only did we have specific yarn needs in mind, but we were open to what knitterly possibilities this shop – and all its magnificent yarn – could provide.

So imagine our crushing disappointment when we pulled up to Holy Threads and found it gone!

The ample house (which had housed ample yarn) was empty. No forwarding address. A couple of desolate spinning wheels in the front window. No yarn. (We later learned that the owner had retired and that the shop had closed a few weeks ago)

So, a little stunned, we sat in the car for a moment or two. Then, we sighed and took the only action we could conceive of taking. We called George (who was back at the hotel with the baby) and told him to hook up to the internet and find us another yarn store.

Ten minutes later, we were happily prowling about a lovely shop called A Grand Yarn – cordial staff, charming clientele, lots of yarn.

I fell for an engaging self-patterning sock-weight merino (Life Style) and thought it would make the basis for a cool summer top (“cool” as in funky). A Kathmandu Aran in a tweedy dark brown that is almost black. Rowan’s Kidsilk Aura in a glowing pink lemonade. Nice. I would have liked a shiny blue (a very specific and, as it turned out, unlikely shade of pale greenish-blue that I recall being popular for vinyl kitchen chairs in the 1960s). But no matter – I was content with 2 skeins of each of the merino and tweed and one of the Kidsilk.

Until a few days later when I got the “What if I don’t have enough” willies. The creepy foreshadowing of inevitable remorse. It was Saturday, the day before we were to leave Spokane (with no foreseeable return until fall). Sunday the shop would be closed. I had about a 45-minute window. So, George and I rushed off the A Grand Yarn (okay, I rushed, he just kindly drove). Two more balls each of the merino and tweed. And he found a Euroflax variegated linen with just the shade of blue I needed (mixed with dashes of almost-black-brown and pink-lemonade pink). He is just that good.

I confess that when we were about to pull out of the parking lot, I had one more attack of the willies and dashed back in to buy a second skein of the Euroflax – and that seemed to appease the knitting sprites. I was able to leave Spokane with an easy mind.

Knitter/Yarn Shop relationships are complex. It doesn’t pay to be thin-skinned and sometimes one has to just move on. I could write at least another blog or two on “Yarn Shops I Have Known: The True Confessions.” Nostalgia, poignancy – I will always treasure the slightly mystical experience I had at Holy Threads and wonder what might have been….but my nose and needles are confidently pointed toward the yarn shop on the horizon.