When one door closes...
Today, we counted.
We counted skeins of yarn. We counted pattern books. We counted needles. Crochet hooks. Buttons and bags. Mannequins and lamps, chairs and tables. All the inventory from our beloved Stitchin’ Post that will form the core of House Mountain Yarn Co.
The look on Julie’s face here says it all. As we quietly spread out around the shop, sorting the yarn by weight, reveling in the texture of wool, cotton, linen, bamboo, silk, alpaca, and yak, we talk about how this feels slightly like a dream – one we’ve all had, I think - of yarn everlasting, yarn overflowing. Endless, endless yarn.
Even more than planning for a new layout, more than dreaming up classes and catchy marketing phrases, this is what the four of us are here for: All this pure potential, portioned out in 100-gram helpings. It’s intoxicating, sure, but also sobering. We want to do right by all this lovely stuff. We want to live up to the vision we have in our heads.
So, come Tuesday morning, we’ll gather again to start painting the walls, assembling new display units, restocking the shelves, and marrying the old inventory with the new. We are sad to see Erin go, thrilled to have the chance to create something.
When one door closes, another opens. When one ball ends, you reach for the next.