The Almighty Harlot has touched this blog and the following has happened:
First of all, in the last 24 hours over 2200 people have come through Chez Spinster. Seriously. 2200 people. That's selling out the Pageant, folks, and counting the staff, and a few more. Visualize this: (it helps if you've been to the Pageant) Stephanie stands on stage in a packed house and says something like, "Jenn sent me this sock. It's in this little box. Take a look if you want." And one by one, aisle by aisle, the entire place lines up to walk across the stage, open the box, peek in, say "Hmm." and move on. Definitely makes a girl feel like a rock star for a day.
Comments! Beautiful, glorious comments! My last comment was received sometime in November, so when I opened my e-mail and saw all of the notifications, I had to think for a second what they meant. I'm a comment junkie who hasn't had a fix in a long, long while, so please don't stop now!
I found an old friend! Ann! We were in a book club together a few years ago, and I knew that she was knitting but didn't know that she has as blog. (I'm a little ashamed because a while back I think she commented on my other blog and I was more than a little snarky. So sorry, Ann. I prefer to only be rude to people that I don't actually know.)
New friends! Especially Anna, who was the first to arrive, moments before me, at 5 pm, like the Harlot Groupies we are. She is sweet and charming and so very, very nice. I'm hoping to see more of her before the next book tour. And she has blogging friends, who also gave me new local blogs to read.
So, this got me to wondering. How should we appropriately honor the Knitting Goddess that is Stephanie? The answer is obvious - build a shrine in our homes and worship it daily. Offer it little bits of chocolate on a sacrificial plate. Light candles (same candles used to test the content of mystery yarn.) Read a passage from bookbookbook one every night. And in times of knitting turmoil, when a stitch is dropped, when the cat knocks your coffee onto your knitting book (because you didn't make a copy and put it in a plastic sheet protector), when the credit card bill arrives after your trip to Stitches or a Sheep and Wool Festival, when IT is in full force (approx. Dec 23rd), or when, god/goddess forbid, there is ever another outbreak of Foot and Mouth Disease, do the following:
Light a candle.
Place a triangle (or triangles, depending on your state of desperation) of Toblerone onto the plate.
Take up your most precious Lantern Moon needles into your hands and cast on 10 stitches in the softest yarn you have.
Knit a row.
Say, in a calm, prayerful voice, "Oh, dear Harlot, goddess of knitting and all that is good and pure in the universe"
Knit another row.
"I'm in desperate straights (or circulars.)"
Knit another row.
State your petition - more yarn, more time, for your family to suddenly decrease by half (temporarily, of course.)
Knit another row.
"Please, help me to understand why things are the way they are, and how things would be if I really had what I think I want, and how I can make them that way if I think it's still a good idea."
Knit a row while pondering what life would be like if you really had fewer children, no partner/cats or, god forbid, no credit.
Eat the chocolate.
Knit a row, but DO NOT use the yarn to wipe the tears from your eyes. Just let them fall.
Remove needles. Frog swatch.
Blow out candle.
At this point you can kiss your kids/cats/partner, send money to distraught sheep farmers, open the fridge, take a bath or have a "little lie-down." It's all good.