Katherine the Great
I like to think of myself as a storyteller. Mostly I tell stories about knitting.

I’ve been a terrible blogger lately….but I post almost daily on Instagram if you’re having withdrawal. I will try to blog soon, but just now, I’m too busy knitting and putting up Christmas trees.

I do want to let you all know that Hunter Hammersen has a new book up for pre-sale tomorrow at noon Eastern time. It’s 14 patterns of lovely wraps that you can make out of just about any yarn imaginable. I’m not big on wraps as a rule, but I must have a copy; the cover wrap is stunning! The first 250 people that order the paper book get a free surprise and anyone that preorders gets a discount. So, wish yourself a Happy November and order a copy. Curls


Our first morning in Ireland started out with breakfast and the best coffee of my life.
It was in a little pot, so I put sugar cubes in my cup, poured hot coffee over them and added half a cup of milk just the way I like. and it was still hot. Ya’ll, it was like angels singing.

Then we headed off to a river and lake tour aboard the Corrib Princess. Our tour group joined a boat half full with lovely Irish folks. Speaking of angels singing, one Irish gentleman, Dennis Clare of County Clare, sang Irish Ballads as we traveled up the beautiful river. It was transcendent.

Old Castle on the River Corrib

Until they asked our group to sing. To say we were horrified is putting it mildly. Not a strong singer in the bunch and geographically diverse to boot, we had a hard time coming up with a song we all knew. We quickly chose America the Beautiful and it was a bit of a train wreck. There are some really high notes in there. They did not ask us to sing a second song.

MIL and Dennis and me
Dennis agreed to take a picture with us and then picked it back up and we listened to more beautiful singing while enjoying the view.

There was a castle with vines growing all over it.

Swans meandered along.

You could practically see the fairies that lived in the little glens off the river.

It was magical.













As I was getting off the boat, Dennis was gracious enough to take a quick sock pic; I gave him a hug and he wished me luck in whatever road I go down. He is everything I thought an Irishman should be and I was completely charmed.















* My humble apologies to Dennis if he’s from a different county. It sounded like Clare to my Texas ears. I am sure his last name and his county were the same.


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After arriving in Galway, my MIL and I went to explore. We stumbled across some interesting architecture
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…and St. Nicholas Collegiate Church (finished by 1320). The history there was tangible.

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Stained Glass

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We also visited O’Maille House of Style. She had amazing stuff. Soft lace cashmere and wool scarves, gorgeous woven blankets, and wool yarn. After looking around and finding the yarn I liked most to be worsted gray wool yarn, I asked the shopkeeper if she had any sock yarn. She picked up the scratchy gray wool I was looking at and declared it “perfect for socks.” The thing is that perfect for socks in Ireland isn’t necessarily the same as perfect for socks in Texas. Winters in Austin are pretty stinking mild which means that even though I was completely charmed by the pretty gray wool that surely came directly off happy Irish sheep, I had decided ahead of time not to buy yarn that I did not like the feel of. But, I took her card. You know, just in case.
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