Well okay, the shop was not five minutes walk away, but fifteen. How do I know this? Because Lynne appeared on my doorstep yesterday morning and suggested we check it out. Next thing we were headed for the hills.

‘Hills’ is quite accurate. There are a few around here.

We located the shop and received a warm welcome. There wasn’t a huge range of yarns. Certainly no familiar brands. There was some stuff that looked a lot like Rare Yarns, but wasn’t, and there was some varigated and plain 8ply that I suspect was dyed for or by the shop. There were some clover knitting needles – lots of straights, a circular in one size, crochet hooks but no dpns. A wall of the shop was dedicated to felting supplies, and there was a lot of toy-making stuff.

I didn’t buy yarn. Not a ball. Instead I succumbed to the logic that if knitting makes my hands hurt, then I should spin instead:

I’m cartwheeling gleefully down the slippery slope of doom.