From The Sublime To The "Huh????"

Well, the first part isn't so sublime. It is actually highly annoying. The utterly amazing new version of Blogger is still allergic to my pictures. And I am not one who is patient enough to attempt other means of getting the pictures to you. Will someone please take New Blogger to the specialist for a gi-normous shot in the bummy so it will cease rejecting my uploads? I'd do it, but I'm on vacation and don't feel like moving right now...

OK...where was I? Oh, yeah! The most sublimiest of stuff! Last night I put on my best bib and tucker (I don't know what that means but Grammy Sheep used to say it all the time before heading out on the town and I like it) then headed for points south. My pre-arranged destination was The Yarn Sellar and a little meet 'n greet with the amazing Noolie and other assorted Chicks With Sticks.

Now, please realize, I live amongst the muggles. I am a lone knitter determinedly stitching away in a sea of the unenlightened. I talk about knitting all the time. It is a big part of my life. People listen, for the most part. But they don't really understand. I've sorta gotten used to finding my own fun in my solitary existence. I make up knitting terms. I invent knitting awards and give them to myself. I claim to have skills that don't actually exist in the world of knitting. Who's to know?

But it is lonely. No one understands. When the dye lots don't match, there is no one to hold me and wipe my tears. When a slender, but perfect dpn snaps, I cannot find a compatriot to howl with me at an unforgiving universe. The Sheep stands alone.

But, last night, I found my flock. I sat with others and listened to the click of the needles and sniffed the sweet perfume of the yarn. We chatted of gauge swatches and knitted thongs. We ripped back, we laughed and we admired the stitching of others. I was gifted with a lovely sheep button (for which I have a project in mind), a beaded bracelet and some of the most beautiful stitch markers. The latter were made by Noolie's very own daughter. Talent runs in the family it seems...

If there is a heaven for good little knitters then I'd imagine that it's something like this. The time just flew. I'll definitely be going back.

Today, still rhapsodizing about the joy that is group knitting, I planned a quiet day at home. There is much housework to do here at Casa De Sheepie. And I've a sock that is nearing completion. But first, I needed to make a quick supply run. (flavored water and frozen pizza...) I also made a quick dash to a local store just to see what little sumpthin's they might have. It appears that the establishment was purchased only yesterday and is under new ownership. I happen to know this because the new owners were present and told me this 48 times. I think they might be a wee bit excited about their new toy.

I found a few items that I thought might like to come home with me and proceeded to the register. New Owner #2 was manning this station and was more than happy to ring me up. He expressed a certain amount of distress over the previous management's methods of recording prices, though. He shook his head. He sighed loudly. He declared that, under his watchful eye, this sorry practice would end. Any and all items will, henceforth, display clear price tags for the benefit of his beloved customers. I was invited to return at the earliest opportunity to experience this new commitment to shopping convenience.

He meant well. And this would certainly represent a huge improvement in store policy were it not for one thing:

This is a Dollar Store. Everything is, well...a dollar.

I didn't really know quite what to say so I did what we all do in these situations. I smiled hugely and nodded a lot. I wished him well in his endeavor and left him singing happily behind the counter.

But this whole conversation haunts me. I can't stop thinking about it. I mean...did I miss something???? Or should I have explained to him that he'd just purchased a dollar store? Perhaps he thought it was a "some things are a dollar and some things aren't a dollar" store. For that matter, when you buy a dollar store, do you pay a dollar for it? In theory, that makes some sense. Once purchased, is the proprietor now obligated to continue in the fine dollar store tradition or can he just begin pricing things all willy-nilly? He seemed quite distressed at the idea of selling me a Gap hat/glove/ scarf set for a mere dollar. Will he attempt to raise prices? Will I now have to pay $1.36 for my honest-it-just-fell-off-the-truck scarf set?

You can see how this could take up most of my thinkin' time for the day.

SA