July Musings

Contrary to T.S. Eliot's opinion that April is the cruelest month, I believe that this (dis)honor belongs exclusively to July. As long as I can remember, July has been, hands down, my favorite month. Besides the obviously glorious days at the beach and late sunset evenings, July also happens to be my birthday month. When you add the festivities of the Fourth of July, really, what other month stands a chance? (Sorry, no, not even December in my book.) So what's my gripe? Well, besides July's many benefits, it is also the most predictable. Within hours of the last of the Fourth's fireworks, you can almost feel the month slipping away uncontrollably. Is July not also the fastest month of the year? The fact that both March and July share the same thirty-one days is really hard to fathom. March seeems easily twice as long, does it not? Whereas we cannot wait until the end of March, we face the end of July with absolute dread. Perhaps this is because we all know exactly what comes next. With its' incessant back-to-school ads and increasingly cool evenings, the month of August lets us down every time. Halfway through it, we give up on summer entirely. In alarmingly short order, beach towels, pool toys and bathing suits are packed away for the winter. (Winter! Did I really say winter?)) People start muttering about bringing on September already and purchasing crisp new school supplies. Ughhhh... not yet, please, at least not for me.

What does all this have to do with knitting? Well, I suppose I could make a case about cooler weather, heavier wardrobes and the new fall yarns-all good things for a knitting shop of course. But really today I just feel like mourning the end of yet another all-too-quick July, my favorite month of the year.

Yarn & Thread

A particularly relevant quote from the International Quilt Study Center:

"Much of the social history of early America has been lost to us precisely because women were expected to use needles rather than pens. Yet if textiles are in one sense an emblem of women's oppression, they have also been an almost universal medium of female expression. If historians are to understand the lives of women in times past, they must not only cherish the Anne Bradstreets and Martha Ballards who mastered the mysterious ways of quill pens, they must also decipher work composed in yarn and thread."

--Pulitzer Prize-winning historian Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

Lights, Camera.....

Roberta, looking jaunty in Noro

Donna, in Lobster Pot's hand-dyed "Whale of a Skein"

Patricia, in her first lace scarf

Cookie, in stylish droppped stitch cinched Tee

Vi and Karen in dueling Ellemyra Shrugs, hers in hand-dyed Patagonia, mine in Claudia's Handpaints Chunky

On Saturday, May 2, the Village Knitter hosted what was supposed to be a fashion show. Never mind that it turned out to be more of a fashion show-and-tell instead. (The fact that we were lacking a proper runway probably had something to do with it). Unfortunately, the weather did not cooperate and our turnout was a little less than we had hoped. But those of us who were here had a blast. We'll have to do this again sometime soon.

Easter Morning

Being of Italian descent, our family has its own unique way of celebrating the religious events leading up to Easter morning. During my parents' childhood, my grandparents and great-grandparents (as well as the rest of their strictly Italian neighbors in Brooklyn) would not allow any leisure activity during Good Friday. Lights and radios were shut off, the usual continuous cooking ceased and families flocked to the nearby churches to attend mass and celebrate the Stations of the Cross. A mournful mood was maintained with strict observers fasting from Good Friday afternoon until Holy Saturday morning, at which time a huge feast was consumed. During the several days preceding the fast, Italian women everywhere, often cooking together, prepared the specialties of the season, including various meat and cheese-laden pies, (most notably pizza rustica), grain-filled cakes (pizza grana), and both sweet and savory breads decorated with hard-cooked colored eggs. For dessert, there were always several varieties of Italian ricotta-based cheesecakes and pastries. To this day, each year, my own family still re-enacts this great festivity with enormous gusto. My two teen-aged daughters look forward to assisting their grandparents in preparing all the food which, of course, takes the better part of an entire day. Many dozen eggs, countless pounds of salami, prosciutto, cappocola, ricotta, mozzarella and sausages of every size and shape are consumed. It is a sight to behold and a taste to savor. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your own perspective...and waistline), it only happens once a year. Buon appetito!

Teaching An Old Dog

Gosh, I hate getting old. The thing about being old is that it's really of no concern until it actually happens to you. And while this occurs at different times for different people, it always catches you off guard. One day you just wake up and realize you're not as young as you used to be. Joints ache, your body's thermostat goes haywire and suddenly your mother is staring back at you in the mirror. It stinks, really. You'll see.

Why all this banter about aging and what, as usual, does it have to do with knitting? Quite a bit actually as these days it is nearly impossible to be a competent knitter without having the computer knowledge of say, Bill Gates. With endless knitting websites and tutorials, You Tube videos, amazing blogs, Flickr, and (damn it all) Ravelry... how's a person supposed to actually get any knitting done? As the Tsock Tsarina once wrote, "I can either knit or write about knitting but I can't do both." (Or something to that effect. Besides, she lies. Clearly she can do both brilliantly). Even if there were enough hours in the day to both knit and write, I'm so computer illiterate, it would take me forever to upload, download and everything-in-between. Honestly, I'm one of those people who breaks out a glass of champagne every time I successfully send an attachment to an email. Wherever do I get the nerve to maintain both a website and now, a blog? Please forgive me if it isn't yet...er, pretty. (I can hear your snickering). I'm working on it. (How do those people like Jared Flood or Jane Brocket do it?) Until I get it all figured out, I must depend upon the generosity of others. Just this past week, a lovely new customer, ridiculously young and barely knowing her knits from her purls, took pity on me, sat down at my computer and accomplished in minutes what has previously taken me hours to do. It made my head spin.

Slowly, I'll get there.

Spring Has Sprung

While the weather on Long Island may not exactly be cooperating, Spring has certainly sprung inside the shop this week. By now, Chris, our favorite UPS man, is quite accustomed to being all but attacked by our regulars as soon as he walks in the door. Fortunately for him, the shop was empty when he arrived today with a particularly large haul of new Easter egg-inspired spring and summer yarns. Among the goodies: a bright assortment of new Trekking and Trekking Hand-Art sock yarn; candy-colored Bombay cotton by Katia; Araucania's amazing new sugar cane yarn, Ruca, in muted multicolors too breathtaking to describe; also by Araucania, Itata, a new hand-dyed sock yarn in a luxurious blend of silk, bamboo & wool; new shades of Debbie Bliss Prima and Pure Cotton; lots of new Noro books and more. Gorgeous...all of it. I can't wait to dig in!

Are We Knitting Yet?

Our Tuesday Morning Knitalong Group

Contrary to what you might by now be thinking, we actually do get a fair amount of knitting done around here. Take my Tuesday Morning Knitalong group....please! (Just kidding, ladies). Originally referred to as the February Ladies (named of course after their first project), they kick off our week with an enthusiatic bang. Bustling through the doorway with coats, bags, more bags and if we're lucky, baked goods, they surely keep me on my toes. And although it's often difficult (like impossible) to get a word in edge-wise, their unbridled enthusiasm for the latest yarn, pattern or project is truly contagious. And can they ever knit! Within a few short months, they've completed their February Lady cardigans in Dream In Color Classy, gorgeous lined bags from the winter issue of Interweave Knits in Brown Sheep Superwash and are ripping through the killer Ellemyra Shrug (have you seen it yet?) in hand-dyed Patagonia cotton, perfect for the upcoming warm weather. My favorite thing about these talented ladies though, besides their amazing knitting skills is their incredible generosity- not only towards each other but especially to any newcomers that happen through the door. (Inserting my own little piece of unsolicited advice here is that if by any chance this is not the feeling you get upon entering a yarn shop, turn around immediately and find the nearest exit). Not that any of this should be news to all of you, but knitting really is about community. I get to see this every single day but come around any Tuesday morning (or Thursday night for that matter...but that's another post) and you'll see this age-old occurence in action for yourself. What a continual joy it is to share in this.

Movin' On Up

Our shelf unit collapses in the
middle of Main Street

Although we tried to be as creative as possible, it did not take long to outgrow our measely 400 square feet. If you are familiar with where we are located in Babylon village, then you know that retail vacancies are rare and rents are generally astronomical. We patiently bid our time hoping for just the right new spot. An initial deal fell through but fortunately a better one replaced it. Two years after opening, we made the big move just around the corner to our present location at 57 West Main Street. Although still not big enough for all we'd like to do, our new space is warm and far more accomodating. The downside is it's not being entirely visible from the street. Located down a driveway and behind another store, new customers sometimes have difficulty finding us but seem to be quite happy once they do. Our large central knitting table, usually filled with our favorite cast of characters is always welcoming. Before long, total strangers become good friends, not only sharing their latest knitting accomplishments but often their deepest secrets. The near instant comraderie among knitters never ceases to amaze me. Most days, I really love this business.

18 Fire Island Avenue

After a particularly grueling summer of painting, building shelves, meeting with yarn reps, ordering inventory and knitting up samples at breakneck speed, we opened the Village Knitter in September 2006. Our tiny 400 square feet did not deter us. It's hard to believe now but initially we had all to do to fill the minute space. One day, like a miracle, a soft-spoken woman I had met through Knitters Review wandered in and offered her help. Little did I know at the time that Joy





was one of the most accomplished knitters on the planet! Her early encouragement and assistance was truly inestimable. In our first six months, we taught beginning knitting classes to nearly two hundred eager students! It seemed everyone and their sister wanted to learn to knit. Unfortunately, Joy's tenure here was short-lived as she awaited a teaching position that all-too-soon materialized. During the next six months, the shop grew in leaps and bounds, hosting charity events benefitting our local Care To Knit organization as well as a fantastic handbag workshop taught by none other than the brilliant Louisa Harding. Finally it seemed, my timing had been correct. I had all to do to keep up the excitement while learning the day-to-day intracies of running a busy yarn shop. The biggest problem (as any seasoned yarn shop owner will tell you) was never having any time to knit!

Fast Forward

When a favorite storefront of mine became vacant at about the same time I decided that perhaps I really wasn't a french teacher, I knew I had to act fast. Fortunately, I had spent nearly all of the previous year preparing myself. During that time, I embarked on a crash course in everything that had taken place in the knitting world since my first go-round. Yikes...it was almost like re-learning to walk. So many new yarns, companies, publications, techniques, and of course, there was the Internet!!! (Thank goodness, Ravelry hadn't been invented yet). Even today-nearly three years later, it's still a constant struggle to stay abreast of it all. But I really wouldn't have it any other way.

The Non-Knitting Years

As I wrote in my previous post, the opening day of my first yarn shop coincided nicely with my son's first day of kindergarten. Ironically, the opening day of my current shop coincided with his first week of college. (I'll let you do the math). The years between are mostly a nonstop blur of the usual family hyperactivity. Besides having a third child, my inability to say no to anyone for anything pretty much kept me out of the knitting loop. (To be honest, it was really too painful to think about knitting). One thing led to another, as they often do. A casual soapmaking hobby led to accounts with Bed Bath & Beyond and HomeGoods. My occasional freelance food writing led to a guest appearance on the Food Network; and finally, filling in at my kids' school led to a permanent position teaching French. However, although I barely had time to cast on a scarf project, the voices of the knitting demons inside my head kept getting louder and louder. "Go back," they screamed. Could I really do that? If so, I knew I had a lot of catching up to do.

Back in the day

My first yarn shop, Amityville, NY, circa 1993

For those of you who don't already know me or do not frequent our shop or website (http://www.villageknitter.com/), please allow me a formal introduction. After all, who am I and why should you even be reading this? Does the world really need yet another knitting blog? (Answer: YES YES!) Like many of you, I was not actually born with knitting needles in hand. Newly married, I was inspired to knit by my mother-in-law's Florida poolside knitting group. In 95 degree heat, in bathing suits and coverups, there they were actually knitting angora Anny Blatt sweaters! I had to have one and I had to make it myself. Back home in New York City, I enrolled in an adult ed class with 24 students and one frazzled instructor. Needless to say, I was immediately smitten and the rest is, you know, history. Within no time, I was teaching others, designing patterns and signing a lease on a simply charming space in the quaint suburban village where I had recently moved. Perfectly timed to my son's first full day of kindergarten and daughter's first day of nursery school, I breathlessly flew open the doors of my first yarn shop. Never mind that this was 1993 and knitting, not being what it is today, there were maybe all of six knitters within a 50 mile radius, including myself. I was determined to spread the WORD and ignite the world with the power of knitting. Never mind also, things like child care, endless class trips and paying the rent. In retrospect, I suppose I was really just a few years ahead of the soon-to-come knitting explosion. And although the needs of my growing family took priority and forced me to sell my beloved little shop, I certainly wasn't finished inspiring others to knit. In fact, I had only just begun.

Baby Steps

So...the first post of my first blog ever-hmmm, not just a little intimidating! But don't worry, I've never been at a loss when it comes to writing, whether about knitting or just about anything else. Quite the opposite actually, so you'll have to figure out a way to muzzle me if I get distracted. (Speak to my kids for some creative ideas about that). Why I've waited nearly three years after opening The Village Knitter to start a shop blog will remain one of the great mysteries. But let's not cry over dropped stitches now. I have lots to share with you all. I'll try, as much as possible, to stick to knitting but I'm not promising anything just yet. Stay tuned!!!!