Queen Ring Shetland Center--Complete!

Easy and fun to knit, the center for the Queen Ring/King Bat shawl didn't take long, either. I am under no illusion that the border (or the miles of interminable edging) will dance off my needles quite as quickly , but it's still a very pleasant pattern to work.

And the yarn! Technically, it's 52/2 60% merino, 20% cashmere, 20% silk. But to knit with it--it's incredible! It's stupendous! It's incredible! Oh whoops, I said that. It's bouncy. It's silky. It's soft. It's everything a gossamer yarn is supposed to be. It deserves a niche in the Yarn Hall of Fame.

Alas, I bought the only skein in the universe on my trip to Japan last year. I was so besotted with it that I decided that I had to have more.

I sent a sample to a mill in China and asked what their minimum order was for a custom spin. The bad news was that I needed to buy 50 kilos. Much as I loved it, I didn't love it 50 kilos-worth. Each kilo has 25,000 meters, and, while I am a fairly robust knitter, I couldn't see my way to stashing 1,250,000 meters of yarn. There are limits, even for me.

I figured there were probably a few other people who might go in with me on the buy. I posted the information in the Heirloom Knitting group on Ravelry and placed a little Post-It note next to the computer to write down the names of the five or six people I figured would want a kilo or two. To my utter bafflement, I had to quickly switch to a spreadsheet to keep track of the orders.

The good news is that I have 100 kilos subscribed. In about a month, I will be able to roll around in the stuff (just kidding, guys, really!)

The thought of 200 pounds of yarn landing in my yard is a bit daunting, but a dear lady is driving down from South Carolina to help us pack and ship the 2,500,000 meters of the yarn I am naming Phoenix.

Of course, Harry said he would help out by providing the entertainment. Unfortunately, he has developed a crush on Al Jolson. The house reverberates with the clickity-click of eight little feet tap-dancing on the dining room table. I can't wait to see what he has in store for us as we wrestle with mailing bags. Hmm, perhaps he will fit in one of them. (Joke--it's a joke!) I promise that nobody will open their package and find a tap-dancing spider in it. Unless, of course, you want one.