I recently found myself in Dallas with nary a care in the world. So, I did the only logical thing and hunted up a yarn shop.


A year ago, I purchased knitting classes for my nieces from Holley’s yarn shop over the phone. The nieces gave the shop rave reviews, so when it showed up on Google, I hopped in my car. I wandered around Susan’s store (Holley is her maiden name) for over an hour, chatting with her. I found the shop to be tidy, reasonably priced and to contain a great selection of knitting gifts like mugs, yarn bowls and Knit Kits.


She also carries a nice selection of Twisted Owl yarn, Knitted Wit yarn, and Done Roving Yarns. I could have used a little more indie dyed sock yarn, but that is nearly always the case for me.































This bright cotton display had visions of dishcloths dancing in my head and I got a tiny bit of Christmas shopping checked off my list.







If you’re still not sure you want to make the drive to try out a new yarn shop, allow me to tip you over the edge. It’s two doors down from Liberty Burgers. I ordered a Baby Bella (mushrooms, queso, a fried onion ring, basil garlic aioli), a torch (bacon and queso filled fried jalapeño served with ranch), and a strawberry shake. The food was so good that I stopped Instagramming and focused on savoring every. single. bite.


Now, this may sound like a lot to consume in one sitting, so if I’m being one hundred percent honest, I spent an hour on a treadmill afterwards to burn off a few calories so I wouldn’t feel completely ill. It was worth it.

After arriving in Galway, my MIL and I went to explore. We stumbled across some interesting architecture

…and St. Nicholas Collegiate Church (finished by 1320). The history there was tangible.

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.