Tag Archives: Dublin Bay Knitting Co.

Yarn Crawl!

4 Mar

I watched the clock all day yesterday, looking forward to the end of the day when I could leave work and embark on Day 1 of the Rose City yarn Crawl, a four-day event for fiber enthusiasts (knitters, crocheters, spinners, and felters) to explore the many shops in and around Portland, Oregon.


The sun was shining as I zipped down highway 26 and through the tunnel into downtown Portland. Destiny was on my side as I pulled up to the first shop, Dublin Bay Knitting Co., where an empty parking space awaited me right in front of the shop. I thanked the knotting gods, fed the parking meter, walked in and got the first stamp on my passport.

Fourteen shops are participating this year and although they all sell yarn, they sell different brands and each has its own ambience. Dublin Bay plays Downton Abbey on a continuous loop and offers free scones and English tea. I wandered the shop for a while, looking at yarn and knit items on display, calling to me to knit them. Another shopper had her young son with her. He was mostly hanging around the snacks chatting up whoever would talk to him.

“What’s you name?” he asked me confidently.

“Adrienne,” I replied. “Do you knit?” I asked, trying to be a little funny.

“No. My mom does. She’s going to make me a red cape and a hat.” he replied.

“Oh, is that a superhero costume?” I asked curious about this confident little chatterbox.

“No, it’s a character from The Walking Dead. Do you watch that show?” he said without batting an eye.

Seriously,  I thought, he watches that? I looked over at his mom, standing at the checkout counter. To my judgmental eye, she looked as though she should have known better.

“I don’t watch that show. Scary shows give me nightmares.” I responded truthfully. “Do you get nightmares?”

“No, I don’t get nightmares from that.Zombies aren’t real. I know it is just people dressed up in makeup.” he replied, repeating the mantra he’d clearly heard been taught.

His mom called to him from the counter, letting him know it was time to leave. I said goodbye and watched him skip out with his mother, looking like the picture of innocence.

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