In which the novelist finally knits

Patricia is the uber cool owner of Patricia's Yarns, (check out the blog, too) this fabulous yarn store which is two blocks away from my house. Patricia used to toil in corporate hell and then she and her husband (who is also completely cool--a science teacher, which means I spent a good part of this morning talking to him about physics and science, one of my favorite things in the world) bought the yarn store. I love going in there. The dog is there, they are there, you can hang out and touch all the yummy yarns and I'm convinced that because of this shop, I've become a better knitter. Best of all, Patricia and her husband led me to this really edgy pattern with a kind of open work leaf on the front and these tiny open work holes along one sleeve.

I've had problems with yarn. I had terrible asthma as a kid and through most of my adult life, which disappeared almost completely when I had Max. Of course I am still obsessed with what it was like to be so ill, so chronically and for so long, and that's something I wrote about in my just sold novel, Breathe. I can't use mohair yarn because it makes me ill. Anything with a lot of loose fibers? Get out the medication. I'm hoping this soft baby alpaca I just bought, in a deep, dark bottle green, will be fine. Actually, I'm willing it, because it's really exquisite, and so, so soft.

I don't think the above photo is doing it justice--it's this really deep, dark (my favorite. This girl doesn't do pastels. Ever.) astonishing forest shade and it's so soft you just want to wrap it around your face. Personally, I'm adding it to the things I want to marry.