I’m a terrible housekeeper. I fully admit that I even hate the idea of cleaning. Last night after a long leisurely dinner with my best friend where we sampled some delicious sushi and followed that up with a trip to B&O Espresso for some cappucinos and dessert (I had the chocolate pot-yum and she had a rum ball-boozy) we got to talking about our respective messy homes.

I figured since the motivation to clean rarely ever takes a hold of me I would nix my planned day of dyeing in favor of cleaning. My goal? The spare bedroom where the computer, the fiber and all the other misc craft/crap lives. It has been a week since OFFF and I still hadn’t taken the drum carder out of the box because I had nowhere to put it.

First the fiber waiting to be dyed needed to be organized.

Then the shelves above the workbench needed cleaning and reorganizing.

Then the table was cleared.

And handspun was collected from the various resting places around the house and put in one handy little tote. However once the handspun was collected I noticed something.

I think I spin too much purple. And when I don’t spin purple I either spin orange or green. Now granted I really do like the color purple, but orange? Not a huge fan. Green? Not my favorite. Why do I only have one lonely mini skein of blue (favorite color) that was spun from silk hankies? Where is the red? I don’t get it. The colors I’m drawn to in yarn are apparently not the colors I’m drawn to in roving.

Of course all this organizing meant the personal fiber stash was now in one location and it took up a lot more room than I expected. Sigh.

The room is far from being “clean” but it is lightyears ahead of where it was this morning. I would have taken before and after shots but quite honestly that would have been humiliating. Lets just say that at the back of the piles of mess I found my penguin and polar bear pj’s that I had planned on wearing to Knit Nite at VY&T…Last October. At least they were ‘clean’. Don’t mind me while I hang my head in shame.

I don’t anticipate much knitting this week since I’ll be gearing up for the annual Evanston P-Patch Pie fundraiser. Once a year I put on my Pie Queen hat and organize a pie baking fundraiser for the community garden where I have plots. I love it but darn every year it sneaks up on me and I go into frantic pie mode. If you are looking for me try peeking under the mounds of pie dough I’ll be making this week.

Now for something I’ve been debating about blogging. Some friends have already mentioned the incident on their blogs so I wondered if I should as well. Now that I think I’ve calmed down a bit I thought I would say my little piece.

I’ve always wondered about how lys’ feel about knitting groups that they don’t necessarily organize themselves. The shop I frequent is a wonderful place and over the last year since I’ve started going on a regular/weekly basis I’ve come to feel not only comfortable there but welcome. Until yesterday. No matter how innocent the intentions were of the store employee who greeted us with “I’ve put you at this table so you don’t take up too much room” it only served to make the entire group feel like crap. Apparently I missed the comment about leaving room for “real customers” which is a really good thing. I probably would have said something snarky.

Now I fully understand a store has the right to make sure all their customers are taken care of but I think what bothered me the most was the attitude that I didn’t spend enough money there to make it worth her while to take care of me. I may not be a big spender very often, some weeks I may only get a cup of tea but more often than not I also walk away with at least one skein of sock yarn or a book or with a fresh scone in my belly. Lets just say that the money I’ve spent there in the past year is well represented by my yarn stash.

It was the first time I ever left a store feeling like I wasn’t worthy to shop there; the fancy french lys in Seattle may have said “Oh you are a SOCK knitter…<insert pity look>” but they didn’t make me feel like my money wasn’t good enough for them.

So what is a knitter to do when you feel unwelcome? (keep in mind this isn’t from management who are out of town right now) For now I think many of us will head to a nearby location that can easily accommodate all of us and all the room we take up until the owners have time to try and resolve things. I’m not expecting to be fawned over in an apology but I think an acknowledgement that what happened was not cool is in order at the very least.

PS: As of 9/30/07 Akismet has protected this site from 666 spam comments. Creepy!

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