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After lunch we went to Knitorious, the yarn shop that employs Rachel, the other Rachel, Tammy, and I can't remember who else. Sandy, the owner, of course. Those are the folks who let me come in and fondle yarns, loiter, talk to the help and prevent them from doing real work, and occasionally nap on their oh so comfy couch.

The thing that cracks me up about going to Knitorious is that my blogging reputation preceeds me, thanks to Rachel. She introduced them to my blog via the story about my neighbors' dog having a wiener dog stuck on his wiener. Apparently, Tammy has grounded Rachel from telling the story because she just can't take it anymore. I understand. I had to find other horrific stories to tell yesterday. It wasn't difficult.

Sandy and I had a long discussion about poop, to which Rachel yelled, "My God, Robin! Do you talk about anything but poop anymore?" No, I don't. You can either listen to me talk about poop, or bitch about my house. If I were you, I'd go with poop, because at least it's funny.

Besides, what else are you going to talk about when you're at a building where someone is performing a Reiki healing session on the toilet?

Not that the Reiki healer was sitting on the toilet. I mean, she was trying to heal the toilet, which really doesn't sound much better. Regardless, I picked up some Reiki tips on selling my damn crapshack, which I intend to shamelessly borrow. Much like burying St. Joe in the front yard, I'm going to borrow from as many religions and belief systems as possible. So far it's working really well for me, don't you think?

Anyway, Saturday was good. As much as I love sitting on my ass in front of the TV while I knit, there's something wonderful about knitting with others. I don't know if it's the lack of eye contact, since we're often looking at our work, or just the act of being in the same place at the same time doing the same thing that loosens tongues and inhibitions. Whatever it is, I needed that yesterday. The free yarn and poop stories helped, too.