That's what my website told me when I logged in today.
It's useful to be reminded who we are once in a while. I know I tend to forget.
Dear Blog,
Who am I? I forget.
Love,
Me
************
Dear Yarnista,
You are Yarnista.
Love,
Your Blog, The Yarnista
************
I'm glad I have these reminders, what with my early onset Alzheimer's disease and my debilitating chocolate addiction.
The air up here is very thin. I sometimes require supplemental oxygen.
Here I am, with my basket of Royal Commemorative Colorways for the royals themselves.
Look, I'm wearing a green coat and yellow shoes. Do you have anything you'd like to say about that?
How about my height? Anything?
I am taller in person than I am online.
Maybe I've mentioned a couple of times that we had some royal visitors to my fair city of the North.
And that I made them some stuff? Mentioned it ever?
On Monday it was time to deliver it.
The Norwegian embassy would not tell us an exact time or location for security purposes. I knew it would be Monday. I just didn't know where or when.
Because I had to be ready at a moment's notice, I combed my hair before leaving for the studio that morning.
It's the least I could do.
The phone rang. I was given a name, a number, and a location, and basically told, "Come in the next five minutes." I didn't have time to change or try to look less homeless.
When we all arrived at the restaurant where we were supposed to meet to deliver the yarn so it could screened by the Norwegian royal advance team, no one was there. I called the cell phone number I was given, and told to go to an alternate location.
(Hello? I have the cell phone number of the Norwegian royal family's social secretary. It's programmed into my phone, just in case I ever need it.)
When we (and by we, I mean anyone at the studio who wanted to come along) arrived at the second location, we found sheets covering the red carpet leading up to the ballroom where the advance team was waiting.
I handed my camera over to Boy Aaron, forgetting that I still had the outdoor sunlight exposure settings dialed in. (Here is one of the disadvantages of a schmancy camera: no auto setting for occasions like this.)
I introduced myself (no, I did not say, "I am Yarnista"), and in the back of my mind, I could hear the shutter of my camera being left open too long. Instead of the sprightly ticktickticktick of multiple exposures being fired in succession, I heard CAAAAA-LICK. CAAAAAAA-LICK. CAAAAAA-LICK.
If you know what I'm talking about, you already know the outcome of a handheld camera indoors and the sound CAAAAAAA-LICK.
If you don't, here's the result in visual terms:
Blur. Camera shake. It's my fault for not changing the camera settings when we went into the much darker room.
But once we were introduced, I couldn't very well stop and say, "Excuse me, I hear my camera CAAAAAA-LICKing, could you hold just a moment?"
I explained what our gift was and why it was significant. They listened. They asked relevant questions about what kind of yarn it was, wool, silk, alpaca. They touched it.
They said thank you.
They smiled. They assured me they would get it right away, and that they would keep it. I think I might have heard them say that the queen would love it because she loves knitting, but I may have hallucinated that.
We left. I felt happy and relieved.
Happy that I had done what I had set out to do, relieved that it was over. This process was more than a bit nerve wracking, especially for someone who is naturally an introvert like I am. Now I could just sit back and watch from behind the security lines where I belonged.
When the king and queen arrived (she is on the center left, he is in the front left), I noticed right away that she was wearing bright orange. It looks a bit red here, but it wasn't. And she paired it with a pink, purple, and red scarf. "You go," I thought to myself. "You go ahead and rock some bright colors, Ms. European Royalty."
Let us all take a moment to consider the facts.
1. Queen Sonja is lovely, but she is not 19 years old.
2. Queen Sonja is a queen. Queen of a real European country, and her picture is taken frequently.
3. If a grandmotherly monarch can wear vibrant colors, knowing full well her appearance will be catalogued by the press, you can too. Chances are you are not a monarch, European or butterfly, and you very likely do not travel with a press corps. Which is just all the more reason that you can get away with something other than a sedate, neutral outfit. If Queen Sonja can do it, so can you.
I was so struck by the color of her jacket and scarf, that I started looking at her pictures from other official functions. I discovered that she really likes to wear white and cream. But Queen Sonja also has a penchant for color. Here she is in a purple suit with and orange print scarf underneath.
In a cream coat and hat over and orange dress.
Another orange dress.
And here is when I knew deep down that she would like my yarn. That magenta coat. Oh my.
Deep strawberry fuchsia. Plus emerald jewels. (Oh look, a complementary color palette.)
And just earlier this week at a different function in Minnesota, another orange dress.
Dear Your Royal Highness,
Did I say that correctly? Sources vary on the correct way to address a figurehead monarch.
I am Yarnista.
I hope you will enjoy knitting with my yarn. Given that you like warm, vivid colors, I think you're going to love Hawk Ridge. And Skyline Parkway will be perfect knit into a scarf to wear under your magenta coat.
Thank you for coming to my little corner of the globe.
Most Sincerely,
Huge Dork
Is that how you would sign a letter to the queen, too? I thought so. Maybe tomorrow my website will say "You are Huge Dork" when I sign in.
You can see some more pictures of the royal visit here.
You can read a little blurb about our commemorative edition yarns in our local newspaper here.
You can read a profile of Three Irish Girls from the same day's paper here.
And you can register for this Saturday's studio tour using this info. This is my last public appearance until March of 2012. I'm taking some much-needed time off from traveling, but will no doubt look forward to getting back into the classroom next year. Come say hello while you can! We only give studio tours once a year.
See you Saturday!
And just in case you were wondering, I am Yarnista.