How many knitters can you fit into a book store?

Well, if it's Powells (the Home and Garden offshoot) in Portland that you're talking about, the answer is: a lot. Wednesday night Stephanie Pearl-McPhee (of Yarn Harlot fame) came to my neck of Portland, and it seems like every knitter within reach squeezed into that tiny book store. I got there a little after 6:00 (she was due to arrive an hour and half later) and there were at least 30 knitters already working on socks and sweaters and lace. It was standing room only by the time she was due to speak, and the bookstore was completely packed.

Managed to grab a seat with the nicest bunch of ladies up front. Here are my seatmates l to r: Carrie, me, Carol who has just identified herself (hi!), and Lori on the end. I snagged this picture from Chrissy, who I saw walking down the center aisle wearing her MomMA (which stands for Mom's Milk Anywhere - isn't that cool?) t-shirt. Yelled out "Knittin Mom!" and I might have surprised her a wee bit, especially since I'm not sure she knew exactly who I was even though I explained the day before that I look just like my avatar...without the crawfish.

The whole group was talking loudly, laughing, and generally scaring away any poor soul who wandered in to quietly browse. When Stephanie got there (snuck in at the back of the store, but knitters have keen eyesight and we spotted her with great ease) everyone cheered. It sounded like a rock concert at that very moment, which is ironic since Stephanie started off by explaining that she is not, in fact, cool. I beg to differ and point to the fact that she had a crowd cheering simply because she walked through the door. And add that if I had been her I would have been completely freaked out and would have snuck right back *out* the door, headed for someplace quieter. But she got up and gave a hilarious talk that had all of us laughing and feeling good all around.

I had samosas left from the housewarming that I'd stuck in the freezer, so I warmed some in the oven before I left. Added a bit of tamarind chutney as well. I got up to the front of the line and Stephanie said, "you look familiar", at which point I held up the bag o' samosas. She grinned and gave me a big hug, then looked a little confused and asked why I wasn't in Los Angeles (where I gave her the last batch of samosas). My answer? "Because Portland is better." And it really is.