Overwhelmingly wonderful; that seems like a good way to describe a fiber festival to someone who has never been to one before. The Market, the classes, the pajama parties and 80's sock hops, the banquets and cocktails and tea times. All surrounded by other knitters.
I remember walking the market floor at my first Stitches thinking: I am nuts, but I am going to make it my job to be involved with something like this. Somehow. I am going to get behind the scenes and maybe in the spotlight. I am going to figure out how it all works and make myself part of it.
If wasn't for that I think I would have thought more seriously about grad school or finished my applications for teaching credential programs. Knitting stole all my passion. Left no room in my heart for anything not related to yarn.
What knitting is not:
-A career pursuit that the average person can comprehend as rational.
-A great source of financial security, generally.
-Everything.
Knitting is fun. Crochet is pretty cool. Spinning is strangely empowering. Yarn is just the answer to my woes.
Like many fellow yarn freaks I have knit my way through lots of anxiety and excitement and disappointment. In the last few years I've had fair bit I've needed to bounce back from and too often criticized the amount of time it takes me. If you steep yourself in rejection trying to figure out why you couldn't save your job, make them understand how the yarn industry is different from hollywood, it doesn't make you feel like that experience should get you another job.
Deciding to keep this blog, rather than starting a new one to forget about all that stuff is me saying F that. Big. Fat. F.
Learning from a negative experience is actually even more valuable than a positive one. I learned about sacrifices: which ones to make and which ones to refuse. I learned about being an assistant. I learned about business. I learned to be as proactive as possible all the time. Even when it doesn't really seem like the right thing to do.
Since I've been in Seattle I've thought about applying to Starbucks or for some kind of random McJob. But I didn't. I applied to mostly yarn stores. I like the idea of working for a relatively small company with a big interest in yarn. I finally found one of those with a need for my skills but its not a store, its a wholesale distributor. Who one of my best references happens to be connected with.
So we'll see what I can do in what seems like the right environment so far. One of my new bosses knit through my interview this morning and then asked me to start tomorrow. Stitches is soon. I won't be there but I will be at Madrona this weekend for two classes and a lot of fun.
Right now I am eagerly awaiting my first week, ok three days, of work. I get to work for people with... a little clout in the yarn world. I get to manage their schedule, and learn what they do and some of what they know. I get a discount... off of wholesale. That makes me a wee bit stupidly happy.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Pressure Cooker Potato Salad
~2 lbs red/gold/purple potatoes (small)
3 hard boiled eggs
6 slices bacon
2 celery stalks
1/2 onion
1 Tbsp Dijon mustard
Mayo (start with about 1/2 cup, then stir, add more as needed)
1tsp dill
Dashes of salt, pepper, garlic powder, curry powder
Wash potatoes, place in pressure cooker with 1 cup of water and cook on high pressure for 2 min (add 1 or 2 additional minutes for larger potatoes). Quick release the pressure, drain, and set the potatoes aside to cool.
Place eggs in cooker (use metal trivet) with 1 cup of water and cook on low pressure for 6 minutes. Let pressure come down naturally for 5 minutes, then quick release. Remove eggs from cooker and place in a bowl with ice water.
While eggs and potatoes cool cut up onion and celery. Cook bacon. Mix spices together.
Peel eggs and chop. Chop potatoes. Crumble bacon.
Place 1/2 of potatoes and eggs in large bowl, then layer veggies, bacon, mustard, mayo, and spices, followed by remaining potatoes and eggs. Fold together gently. Add more mayo, to desired taste and appearance.
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