It looks like a bomb went off, but we are home, complete with dirty laundry exploding from every which way, suitcases tossed aside precisely where they don’t belong, and and a fridge that offers only mustard, almond butter, and stale sour cream. The return landing may not be pretty, but it was worth the pain.In cased you missed it, we road tripped down to Monterey, California, visiting the aquarium (twice!) and enjoying the perfect beach weather. It was a LONG drive with two adults, one toddler, an elderly dog, a tricycle, and a scooter crammed into one dirty Subaru with a reasonable amount of luggage.
Like any obsessively addicted knitter, advanced research led me to Monarch Knitting, which happens to be a flagship store for the Quince & Co. yarn. It’s part of my plan for the year to knit up a bunch of patterns from Hannah Fettig’s cruelly brilliant Home & Away: Knits for Everyday Adventures. Somehow I swindled a coworker into promising to knit the Rosemont Cardigan with me.
Miracles. They do exist.
I called ahead to make sure Monarch Knitting wouldn’t freakishly be closed for some sort of renovation and resolved to stop in to select my Rosemont yarn and touch Quince & Co. wool for the first time ever in Real Life (so far, I’ve only worked with their linen). I wasn’t sure when exactly I would be able to jaunt into Monarch Knitting, so I lugged my copy of Home & Away with me everywhere we went in my backpack.
Some random beach? It came along.
Aquarium Day Two? Yep.
Better to heft the extra weight than risk arrival at the target LYS without the pattern. I believe that would have fallen under the category of Knitting Blasphemy. Ultimately, I did make it into Monarch Knitting and selected my Quince & Co. Lark colorway (Wasabi!) in under ten minutes (it was one of the handful of colorways they had with the required ten skeins in stock), along with a spontaneous acquisition of two skeins of new-to-me Woolfolk’s Sno in White/Silver. This yarn is 100% merino wool and is so stinking soft that it just blows my (over-caffeinated) mind. All I want to do lock myself in a (well lit) closet and knit myself some kind shawl/stole/wrappy thing that I snuggle in all day, every day. I am basically going to pet this yarn incessantly until I can finish some projects and allow myself to cast on.
Pet. Pet. Pet.
Along the way, I did accomplish a respectable amount of car knitting, making progress on my man socks and Valentine’s mittens. There was an unmentionable incident involving a pot hole and an airborne double pointed needle that is now forever lost in the slot between the passenger seat and center console. On the upside, at least it didn’t poke out my eye.
Right. All this travel knitting really got me thinking: wouldn’t it be amazing to knit your way around the world? To venture off here and there (Italy! New Zealand! Borneo!) and whip up this and that along the way. Discover yourself. Discover the world. Pack some yarn from home (just in case) and find some new yarn along the way.
When Elizabeth Gilbert did her whole Eat, Pray, Love bit, she really missed out by not including a section on stopping over somewhere and learning to knit. She could have done the knit journey first and fixed her life right then and there–no Italy, India, or Bali needed (although you might as well visit those places, too…since your suitcase is already packed and no one is expecting you home anytime soon).
Given the three-year-old in my life, I imagine it will be a while before I knit myself around the world. In reality, it is just as difficult to knit while traveling as it is to knit at home. Stolen moments here and there when everyone is sleeping or cleverly strapped into a five-point harness system.
In the meantime, the dream lives on. Maybe you’ll join me.