I moved to Scotland in 2014, when the country was days away from voting in the Independence Referendum. The weather was being stereotypically Scottish in the mix of misty, grey and drizzle-y. The Scottish would call the weather a bit ‘dreich’, but at that point I hadn’t even heard of the word. I was wandering around bemused by how to pronounce ‘Buccleuch’ and ‘Cockburn’, two streets in Edinburgh that are essential to any student trying to meet up with anyone. My pronunciation made a resident of the city nearly cry. Oops?
However, this is meant to be about something that isn’t the weather or torturing poor senior citizens who were kind enough to stop for a lost student.
In my first year in Edinburgh, there are many days that stick out memorably and my first day at the Edinburgh Yarn Festival is one I can’t imagine I’ll ever forget. I crept out of my shared room (super*) early, dressed in the only cardigan I had successfully knitted at that point, and I’m not sure I took a full breath until I got off the phone to my mum later that evening. It was magical.
I didn’t buy much as I was so overwhelmed. Two skeins of yarn, the project bag that I still carry everywhere and a compliment from Ysolda Teague on my cardigan later, I was so happy I could cry.
(I should mention, I *think* Ysolda Teague complimented my cardigan. She noticed it was her own design and I think she said something nice about it but I’m a wreak when people I admire talk to me and I don’t think I could remember my own name at that point. I hadn’t messed it up enough that she couldn’t tell that she had designed it, so that’s perhaps a compliment?)
The (next) best thing about it was learning the names of so many companies I could buy yarn from. I wrote down lots of names as I wandered, and over the next year I picked out new skeins from their stores. I had seen the yarn in person and had been impressed by what I had seen but I could support them when they were not incredibly busy.
The next two years I went along but in the meantime, I had met some incredible knitting friends. We finished out the Festival on the grass in the sunshine admiring other people’s purchases and discussing what we wanted to knit with our acquisitions.
In around three months, I have to move again. My stash simply cannot grow again**. I realised this, and then needed to go for a walk. I came back in with a conclusion: I was going to miss this year’s EYF.
A break year isn’t the worst thing, I hope. I plan to appreciate the stash I have next weekend, and perhaps cast something new on to celebrate. I shall be stalking the beautiful things everyone else has bought on Instagram and maybe buying a skein from the wonderful people I met last year.
So if you’re in the city for EYF and want to grab a coffee with a gal, hit me up! Otherwise, have a wonderful week!
* for a student at least
* * I totally want to have a chat about loving large stashes at some point and stash-shame