Saturday at Starbridge and Dahlonega, and how I got the perfect swift!

[kniteracy]

A quiet day for the good memory book

D's daughter E turned 13 on Friday, so there was a party at Starbridge on Saturday. E and my son had met and bonded (friend-wise; he's really not interested in the girlfriend/boyfriend thing at the moment) at the North Georgia Celtic Festival and then again at one of the Starbridge gatherings he went to with the Southgoing Zaks late in the summer. She asked him to come to her birthday party, and they exchanged email addresses, but he didn't have much of a chance to interact with her in the between time. His homework load this year has been so big he has barely had time to start thinking about packing his stuff for the UK, but that's another post altogether.

Suffice it to say that a couple of emails, several rounds of phone tag, and a trip to the bookstore later, we were on our way to Starbridge on Saturday late morning so that G could go to this party. E wanted as little adult supervision as possible, so when we got there, D just showed G where the party was happening, and we sat down for a quick chat, since we don't see one another all that often. It turns out only six kids were invited to this party. E is homeschooled and doesn't know a lot of kids near her own age (party kids' ages ranged from 11-19), so when she meets someone she clicks with, they try to get the kids together as much as possible. D wanted to make sure I didn't mind the low-supervision mode, and of course I was fine with that: I trust my son.

I told her I'd heard there was a terrific yarn shop in Dahlonega; did she know where it was? She replied that yes, there was a terrific shop in Dahlonega, and that it was owned by a friend of hers who's pagan, so when I went there, I should tell the owner that she sent me. She drew me a little map, and I was off to Dahlonega.

Now, if you've never been to Dahlonega, Georgia, or even if you have, I just have to tell you that it's one of my favorite little places on earth, one of the places I'll really miss about Georgia. Even though I've only been there a few times, and even though it has its little tourist traps, there is quite a bit of genuine old southern mountain town charm about the place, and because of its location, there's plenty of art to see and crafts to look at. In stark contrast to North Georgia's other touristy town, Helen, there's actually some real history in Dahlonega, and it looks less like a gingerbread house than Helen, too. What's not to like?

When filceolaire said he wanted to see something a little more real and historical in Georgia than he had found the city of Atlanta to be, I took him and the girls to Dahlonega first, then to Amicalola Falls, then home through Ellijay and New Echota.

Yesterday, my mission to Dahlonega was not historical: I had heard about this yarn shop from several of our customers at Nease's, so I wanted to see it for myself. It was a great shop, full of yarns not only from the usual American suppliers, but also with a very nice (the best I've seen in this country) selection of Rowan and Debbie Bliss yarns as well. They carry most of the sock yarns I like as well. The big yarn find was several skeins of discontinued Berroco Rasta in the shade I had bought all the rest of Nease's stock in to make a top for my sister. Limited yarn availability was going to force me to make a much smaller top than I wanted, but armed with three more skeins from Magical Threads, I am empowered!

Wow, Harper. You walked out of a killer yarn shop with only three skeins of yarn? You're showing admirable restraint. Are you ill?

Nope, I'm not ill. You see, I've been looking for a swift. I wanted a nice one, a wooden one that would last for awhile, and I hadn't seen any in any of the yarn nooks we shopped at in London, although lots of yarn there is sold by the hank and needs a swift or a patient yarn winding partner. We got two beautiful wooden swifts into Nease's last week, but even with my employee discount I couldn't afford what we were having to charge for them. Just to check, I asked the shop assistant at MT if she had any swifts in stock, since they had a nice one, a smaller wooden one than the ones we'd gotten in, displayed on the table in their knitting hangout room. She replied that yes, they had them that size and brought out a box to show me. I frowned. "That box looks too big for that swift," I said. "It's the right price," she replied, indicating the price on the box (which was, incidentally, the wholesale price of the swift we'd gotten in at the shop in Decatur). I shook my head. "Let's see it," I suggested. And she removed it from the box. It was the same, large, beautiful wooden swift we'd gotten in to the store in Decatur. I shook my head. "That's the wrong price," I said. "I'm sure of it; it's too low. I mean, if you want to sell it to me for that price, I'll take it-- but I think maybe there's been a mistake. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, could you call your shop owner and ask her what the correct price is?" I made sure she knew she didn't have to do it right away; I was still browsing yarn. Ten minutes later, she came back to tell me that yes, the price was off by quite a bit. She thanked me very much for bringing it to her attention; those swifts had been in the shop for a couple of months, and she was sure she'd already sold at least one at that incorrect and very low price. I smiled at her and told her that it was no trouble to do that-- I just didn't want to take away profit from another small business, because I know what these things cost. As I was talking to her, the shop phone rang again, and she answered it.

It was the owner of the shop, phoning back to ask if I was still in the store. She looked at me and said, "Yes; she's still here," and then her face broke into a smile. "Really? I'll tell her." The store owner had decided that since I had noticed the mistake in the price and had been earnest and honest and brought it to her attention so it could be corrected, she'd sell me the swift for just a few dollars above the wholesale price. She asked to speak to me, and I told her I was a friend of D's and that I teach knitting at Nease's. She offered me a job teaching knitting at her shop. "It's not a conflict of interest," she insisted, "the shops are too far apart; we don't have that much of an overlap." If I were staying in the US, I'd have taken that job in a heartbeat, because Dahlonega is actually closer to me than Decatur, and it's a much easier drive! But I had to tell her I was relocating. We agreed that I should stop into the shop sometime while she was there so we could meet in person, especially since we're both family, and I thanked her again for the great price on the swift.

So now I have a lovely, sturdy wooden swift that will last for years and years and years. Was it instant karma? I don't know. She didn't have to sell it to me for that price; I know what it's worth retail, because I was close to heartbroken when I found out the price on Thursday at Nease's.

After that, I asked the shop assistant where a good place to eat in Dahlonega was, and the pointed me to Rick's. Wow! I should have taken J and the girls there when I took them to Dahlonega. It's a big old southern house with fantastic service and good prices on the lunch menu. The dinner menu is expensive, but you can tell it's a fine restaurant-- the staff really know what they are doing, and the wine list is long. I had the best hamburger there. (Stop laughing, pola_bear!) And they make their own potato chips! I mean, what more could you ask for? They didn't mind that I wanted to sit and read for a long time. I finished up Eats, Shoots & Leaves, a book that deserves its own post. It was great. I also had time to read a short story based on "The Princess and the Pea," which I ended up not liking at all, and then it was time to drive back to Starbridge to collect G-- or I thought it was.

The party was supposed to wind up between five and six in the evening, and D had suggested that I come back a little early so we could chat for a bit before the kids all had to go home. It was about 4:30 when I left Dahlonega, so I made it back to Starbridge around ten or fifteen minutes later. When I got there, we went straight down to the lake (I took knitting, of course). The kids hadn't even ordered their pizza yet, and some of the other parents were relaxing down there, as well. These are people I've met at pagan events but don't know really well, so Knitting Was My Friend. Conversations were pleasant, even though I don't always feel very comfortable with people I don't know all that well. It's a good thing the conversation was pleasant, because I was there for three more hours; the party didn't break up until after 8. G and I ended up going straight home and to bed, which was probably the best thing for us.

Before sleep, I talked to a very groggy filceolaire who was having a dream about structural drawings. I tried to start another book, but I couldn't keep my eyes open.

And that was Harper's Saturday.

Today: Packing, I hope, in addition to kitchen cleaning and other Fun Things.