Heads up! The Irish Are Coming!

While spending several hours shopping for the perfect yarn inspiration for a pair of underwears--plural just sounds better...thanks, Joe Jr.-- the town was overrun by an early St. Patty's Day parade. Everyone was drawn to the front window by the sound of bagpipes, then kept in a trance by the parade of delicious Irish arans and kilt hose passing by the shop. A woman across the street was not only wearing her sweater, she was sitting on a matching aran afghan, which made the knitting instructor almost choke on her own spittle.

The moral of this story is this: If you have a St. Patrick's Day parade going on nearby, you might want to consider an opportunity to ogle men's sweaters and socks without anyone thinking you're strange. And don't judge what other people do with their knits. Or at least swallow your spit first.


Joe-in Wyoming's picture

Good advice, Willy. The only problem is that we never have any Paddy's Day parades in Wyoming. -- Books, knitting, cats, fountain pens...Life is Good.

Books, knitting, cats, fountain pens...Life is Good.