Operation "Yarnology Relocation"

         The past few weeks have been… interesting. They’ve been stressful. They’ve been exciting, exhausting, hectic, nerve-racking. And fun. What is the reason for all of this? Well, I’ll tell you: Yarnology is moving locations. A few months ago, our wonderful Gaby (part owner of the store) and her husband bought a building in downtown Winona, just a block and a half from where we had already set up shop. Since that time there has been some major work done inside and out and it is finally, FINALLY coming to a close tomorrow!! All of the hard work has paid off; all of the support from customers, friends, and family will be evident in this amazing place that has been put together in hardly any time at all.

            June 8^th, just this past Saturday Yarnology was pretty much the same as it always has been. Any customer that walked in would have seen Gaby, Kelly, and myself calmly knitting and crocheting in our “living room”. They would have heard Mumford and Sons Pandora radio playing quietly in the background, and seen the confident and calming colors of skeins of yarn resting in bins around the room. What they would not have realized was that the three quiet crafters were secretly bursting with anticipation for the clock to strike 5:00 p.m. Saturday was our last day open for business in our old location; the minute that OPEN sign came unplugged it was go time. Yarn came off the shelves at a record pace and was loaded into clear garbage bags to be transported down the street. Mannequins were disrobed and stored away to be moved last when everything else is in its place. Books were packed to capacity, snug in boxes waiting to be taken to their new home. Overall it was quick work. Besides the three of us there were several other Yarnologists and friends who had volunteered to do some grunt work. In two hours we cleared all the shelves, cubes, hooks, and whatever other means of displaying yarn we had contrived. Things were certainly packed up, but the space was still filled with things waiting to take the journey down the block. It seems that you never truly realize how much stuff you have in one space until you try to move it all. Sheesh. When we finished all the work we were able to do that day, it was a bit overwhelming, looking around and seeing how much more we had to accomplish. But luckily we had fresh strawberries and vanilla ice cream to comfort us (thanks Donna W.!!) while it sank in that this was just the beginning……

            Today marked the second day of operation “Yarnology Relocation”. The action started before I arrived (you might not believe this, but I’m not too handy with the power tools or the very large, heavy furniture. I know, shocking. Ha) and when I walked into the new space most of the shelving units were already in place just waiting for fluffy, colorful things to fill them up. Though the weather was hot and the air conditioner decided to stop working a couple of days ago, the volunteers that were busy putting things in their places didn’t seem to notice much. It was so exciting to watch as it all came together. Little by little we unloaded pick-up truck beds and vans filled with boxes and furniture. Back and forth, back and forth we went from one block of 3^rd street to the other. Now that I’m looking back on the day, I can’t help but think about all the wonderful people who gave up their time and energy to pitch in with this move, and it just makes me grin. These of course include some of our loyal customers who came by to help us move the 100-some bags that we had filled with yarn! I’m sure it was a sight to see, a dozen or so people lined up from the van/SUVs we loaded up to front door of the new store, handing down bag after bag of yarn until it came to rest in a pile of its companions. Many hands make a quick end, a lesson my mom has always taught, and today I was able to see that in action. It truly is amazing how much we were able to do in one day. And it’s all because we came together and worked hard for the love of this store and its people. I truly felt blessed and proud and humbled to be a part of it and to be able to call a good many of those wonderful people my friends. I’m sure you’ll get tired of hearing me say this, but this job means so much more to me than the paycheck I receive every other week. Don’t get me wrong, that’s nice too. But I know I still would have been one of those pairs of hands, passing yarn down the line even if it wasn’t my job. Being a part of something special makes you special, right? (Wait, did I just quote Glee? haha Oh well!) And that feeling is pretty great.

           We officially open the doors of our new store location on Tuesday, the 12th. We have A LOT to do, however, before that happens. I confess, thinking about that list of to-dos makes me a little anxious, but like I’ve been taught to believe, many hands make a quick end. And it helps when laughter, smiles, and coffee are shared throughout the day. Wish us luck in the last stage of moving. And come visit us once we’re settled in! All of us at Yarnology are looking forward to it!

                             Gaby and Jeannine next to the MOUNTAIN of yarn we packed up.

Bags of yarn!

The store's empty... almost.

Our yarn train in action. :)

So many bags of yarn!!

And here I am after all the hard work, posing with our Noro wall.

           

Car Trouble

          Prior to 8:00 p.m. tonight, things were going just swell for this Yarnologist. After a fun day shopping with Amanda, I worked a four hour shift at the store where I was able to chat with the wonderful people who came for Thursday night knitting, help pick out colors of yarn for a project one of our regulars is going to start, and seam up the poncho I’ve been working on for a couple weeks. I felt happy and productive. Listening to our knitters talk and laugh while making progress on their needle work is one of the best and most amusing parts of my job; our Thursday night “group” never disappoints. This all changed, however, when I got to my car… which refused to start. At this point in time we’ve decided it’s the battery (maybe??) and my dad is coming up to Winona tomorrow to help me. As we walked home from the parking lot outside of Yarnology, Amanda, friend/ follow Yarnologist, and I determined it’s ridiculous that we know nothing about cars. Seriously, why did I not pay attention when my dad or step-dad or uncle was tuning up my car or checking it for something? My dad has tried explaining certain things but I end up nodding in false concentration while making a list of things I like more than cars. Stupid me. And now I’m sitting here twiddling my thumbs and waiting for my daddy to come rescue me. Those early feminists are rolling in their graves as I type.

            So I’m frustrated and worried about my car and trying to decide whether or not to eat or knit my feelings away. Why can’t everything just work out the way I want it to? ‘Cause life just doesn’t work that way. I’m learning this very quickly. I confess that while I was sitting there in the parking lot, attempting to coax my car to life, I was tempted to pull out the yarn-bombed jeep we have in the back of Yarnology and drive that home. I’m sure it works better than my car does right now. Can you imagine me cruising down Main Street in that thing? Ha! Yeah, that would be pretty awesome.

When in Grief...

           Knitting is comforting. I’ve said it time and again, and wholeheartedly believe in this philosophy. When we’re stressed, anxious, sad, or frustrated the repetitive nature of knitting can relieve some of these feelings, taking our minds off of the things that are troubling us. And I always love seeing my project grow and knowing that I’m being productive; I’m accomplishing something even when other things just aren’t going my way.

          This past weekend, however, was a rare occasion when my philosophy failed me. On Saturday morning, the 26^th of May, two of my dogs had to be put to sleep. The days following have been very difficult as I’ve been feeling some guilt and sadness over what had to be done. The shock of the whole situation hasn’t left me. Both Saturday night and Sunday I sought comfort in my work and attempted to lose myself in the back and forth, in and out motion of the needles and yarn. But before long the images of my poor puppies came back to me and I couldn’t to continue. It seemed I couldn’t find peace of mind anywhere. So instead of trying to distract myself, I thought I’d write a little in the attempt of coming to turms with their passing.
            Schissy, some mix of herding dog breeds, was almost sixteen years old and had come to our family when my Dad and step-mom still lived on their dairy farm. We no longer live there, but moved to Sparta WI after struggling with the many expenses that can crop up on an old farm. Schissy belonged to a neighboring farmer who had inherited her from an elder family member. He chained her to a tree day and night and couldn’t seem to understand why she was barking and howling all the time. One day she got loose and for some reason or other ran straight to our farm. She immediately hit it off with the dog we already had and they became fast friends. When the neighbor farmer’s wife came by to pick Schissy up she asked if we would like to keep her. The lady’s husband was getting so sick of all the noise that he was going to shoot her. We didn’t hesitate and soon she was a part of the family, sleeping in my parent’s bedroom and awkwardly herding cows in the wrong direction. See, deep down she knew that she was supposed to do something with those big black and white things, but she had never been trained and just sort of ran them in whatever direction she felt looked best. After returning to our barn one day covered in cow manure my dad laughed and said she was a little schissy (the German word for… well, sh**). The name stuck. We firmly believe that our dogs only understand German (however broken mine sometimes is), and so our dogs aren’t really dogs at all, they’re hunde. We always referred to Schissy as the “tante hunt”, or aunt of the rest of our dogs. When our first dog had a litter of puppies, Schissy had as much or more to do with their bringing up than the rightful mother did. She scolded, herded, licked, and protected those puppies like they were her own. Down to her very last day.

          My Schnappi was one of those puppies that Schissy bossed around. The baby of our first dog, Schnappi has been mine almost since she was born. My sister and I visited my dad on the farm a few weeks later and we were given the opportunity to choose our very own dogs out of the ten that had survived. At that time we thought that Schnappi was the runt, though she grew larger than many of the others. She was brindle in color, like her mom, but had a thicker coat almost like a German shepherd. I can remember holding her in the palm of my hand and gently rubbing her tiny silky ears. Even then they were a little too big for her head. She never grew into those big floppy ears. It was one of my favorite things about her. Schnappi’s name was originally Maxine Anne (don’t ask me how I came up with that at the age of nine; my cat, adopted around the same time is Agatha Jane. It seems I have a thing for old names… haha). When Schnappi got a little older we noticed her doing something strange when she was excited or happy: she would snap. Never maliciously done, these snaps, or schnaps in German (are we noticing a pattern here?), were her way of saying “I love you”. Eventually, her nickname trumped the one she was christened with in the beginning. Schnappi spent the first few years of her life on the dairy farm running with the other dogs through the woods to chase coyotes, playing with us outside in the summer, and curled up in front of the wood stove in the winter. Though I only spent every third weekend with my dad during that time, Schnappi never forgot me or the fact that she was mine. We had an understanding; I knew that dog like the back of my hand. After twelve years that never changed. Schnappi was one of my best friends and will always be my baby. Which is why, when I got the phone call that she needed to be put to sleep, I didn’t hesitate to go and be with her. She needed me there as much as I needed her to know I loved her and hadn’t abandoned her. When the moment came I laid down next to her and told her how she was the best girl, the best baby and that I loved her so much. I talked to her until she was gone and then I buried my face in her fur and let go of all the tears I had been holding in. I confess, it was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do, but I don’t regret being there for a second.  

         Though it’s been a few days since my hunde slipped away to the big farm in the sky, the sadness is still there and will be for quite some time, I’m sure. Eventually I won’t feel the sharp pang that comes when I think about them and the memories won’t be bittersweet but will only make me smile. And of course, my knitting will once again provide solace.
     

 
        This is Schissy in better days. She used to be quite the chubber. :) But SUCH a loving dog!

My beautiful Schnappi.

Schnappi and I cuddling a couple years back. :)

My dad on the farm with our dogs.

           

Yarn Bombed

My job is never boring. Honestly. Even on a slow day at Yarnology there is always something to keep us busy and entertained. The creativity never ceases to permeate the air and that usually results in fun, often wacky projects. Today was one of those days. This past week I was visiting my home town, spending Mother’s Day with my mom and seeing lots of friends and family. After being gone for so long I wasn’t sure what would be waiting for me when I walked through Yarnology’s doors. There’s always a possibility of being greeted by new yarn, new pattern books, new designer bags. But today, that wasn’t the case. That’s way too predictable. There on the floor of the shop is my friend and fellow Yarnologist Amanda in the process of covering an old Fisher-Price car with swatches of yarn. Hmmm. Not your usual work-day activity. Then again, this isn’t your usual place of work. To make a long story short, it was our job today to “yarn-bomb” this car which will be featured in an upcoming window display (regulars to our shop, just you wait! It’s going to be awesome!).

           For anyone who doesn’t know what yarn-bombing is, I’ll try and explain myself. Yarn-bombing is basically harmless graffiti. It’s also referred to as yarnstorming, guerrilla knitting, urban knitting or graffiti knitting, according to Wikipedia (I know, I know, I’m using Wikipedia. Didn’t I learn anything researching papers in college? Obviously not.) Knitters go around to different public places and wrap, cover, adorn things in yarn or knitted pieces. It’s more fun if you do this in secret, preferably at night in order to catch the unsuspecting citizen off guard. Who wouldn’t be surprised to drive down the street and see benches, trees, and light poles decorated in colorful fiber? That’s the kind of thing that makes an average day just a little bit better. Yarn-bombing a public place is technically illegal. Technically. It has become amazingly popular recently though, and you don’t often hear about anyone getting in trouble for it. The fact is, this type of “graffiti” is ten times less troublesome than spray paint or chalk and let’s be honest, it’s pretty darn cool. Winona has seen occasional yarn-bombing in the past and I’m sure there will be more in the future, so keep your eyes out for anything colorful and fuzzy in places where it’s not supposed to be. Some of our customers have taken notice of the craze and one regular gifted us with an actual yarn bomb. Literally. A bomb… made of yarn (ha!).

        I sat there this afternoon, crocheting swatches of yarn onto this car, and I confess, I couldn’t help laughing to myself. Yes, I WAS getting paid to yarn-bomb a car. How great is that. Another reason why I can’t help loving my job.

These are just a few examples I found online that I just needed to share! :) Hopefully they will inspire some crafty people to start yarn-bombing!

Hello everyone! This is my first blog post EVER and I’m so excited that this is finally getting off the ground! Writing a blog about my experiences working in a yarn store and of being a part of the knitting community in general is an idea that’s been thrown around for quite some time. So here it is, my first experiment with blogging. I hope you enjoy!

         School has been in my life since I literally can remember. And in two short days I will be finished. Forever. Unless I suddenly gain motivation and apply for grad school. Lately, when asked the question if I’m going to get my masters I politely smile and say no, I’m happy where I am. I’m taking an indefinite hiatus from the whole education thing. Yes, I enjoyed my time in classrooms; the feeling of learning something that I actually want to learn is great. But I feel like I’m not ambitious enough for a master’s program. Especially in the subject I decided three and a half years ago to dedicate myself to: literature. I lack ambition to get to the top; I get comfortable, find out what makes me happy and that’s what I stick with. Not many people understand this philosophy, however. Some of my best friends still shake their heads when I say I have no desire to climb either the professional or social ladder. If that doesn’t make me happy, why do it? It seems so simple to me.

            In the preparation for graduation more people than ever have asked me what I’m planning to do once I’m pushed out of the bird’s nest that is Winona State University. It’s the real world! You should go apply for tons of jobs, get rejected by almost all of them, go through crappy interviews, cry yourself to sleep because you can’t find a job, settle for something that is marginally related to your degree, and spend the next five years searching for something better. Why?? For the last year and a half I have worked a job that makes me insanely happy. Yes, it also reinforced a somewhat unhealthy addiction, but hey, we can’t win every battle. I am an official Yarnologist in Winona Minnesota at the local yarn store, Yarnology. I first came to Gaby and Kelly, the two owners of this wonderful place, as a junior at WSU. Halfway through my third year of higher education I came to the unfortunate realization that my savings was rapidly depleting and I needed to find a job. Magically, I was told about Winona’s new yarn shop on a visit to another such store with my aunt and grandmother. Knitting sort of runs in my family. My German grandmother, who I call Oma, taught me to knit and purl when I was around nine or ten years old. Over the years I’ve set it down, picked it back up, set it down again. Though I haven’t always been obsessed to the degree I am now, knitting has been a part of my life for a long time. After being told that my adopted home now had a yarn store, I did some research and found Yarnology’s website. It occurred to me that a yarn store could be just about the coolest place to work. After musing out loud to my dad, he encouraged me to call and it wasn’t long before I was talking to Kelly, asking if they could use any part-time help. In a few short weeks I was soaking up the colorful atmosphere that was Yarnology. Since that fateful day, I have learned more about yarn, fiber, customer relations, and friendship than I ever thought possible. I have also become a bit of a “fiber freak” (no offence to other “freaks”; I did not come up with this name, but it’s often given to those of us who could eat, sleep, and breath anything wool related). I could talk forever about the wonderful people I have come to know and love through my job, but I think I’ll have to save that for another day.

            As I sit here contemplating my future and realizing that soon my life will be completely different, all I want to do is unpack my entire stash of yarn and surround myself in its soft, reliable comfort. It occurs to me, as it has to many others I am sure, that yarn is more than just a commodity, something that we buy and sell. It’s soothing; almost every proficient knitter will tell you that knitting is what they do to unwind, to relax and forget the hectic world. But for me it extends beyond that. Just looking at my piles of yarn and thinking about the useful, beautiful things I could and will make with it fills me with happy anticipation, but it also reassures and comforts. In this time of drastic change I know that my love for yarn, knitting, and every aspect of this craft will continue. At this point, I can only imagine it getting stronger. I confess, I may go overboard sometimes, and it doesn’t help that I’m surrounded by temptation every time I go to work. But when it comes to yarn, too much of a good thing is… well, a really good thing.

Wish me luck everyone as I make my leap into the real world. Fortunately, I know my Yarnology family, both coworkers and patrons, will always be there supporting me.