I just wrote an entire paragraph with eclamation points. I've wanted to go to Rhinebeck since the first time I ever heard of it, around my first year in library school. A group of knitters I know were going to drive up to Albany, not an impossible drive from Boston. And I couldn't go. I had papers to write. I had Colon Classification to learn about. I had tomes of esoteric library knowledge to assimilate. Oh woe is me, cried I. And I vowed, then and there,
Now, with my shiny new degree in one hand, and my unemployment status in the other, I have the time to go. I can wear my Pirate Hat, and be a Yarn Corsair! "Yaaaaaarn!" I'll exclaim, waving my knitting needles like a cutlass. "Yo-ho-ho, and a skein of homespun!" And I'll fight to the death any knitter who thinks they can get between me and that last skein of knittable goodness over there. Because what I really need, what will make me happier than anything in the world, is more yarn.
Oh, and to spend some time with good friends at the Sheep & Wool Festival!