This morning I got up, got a Starbucks latte, and headed to the Oregon Convention Center. There, I chatted with Ravelry’s Jess and Stephanie Pearl McPhee before going on to classes with Janel Laidman, Meg Swansen and Amy Detjen. Then I bought yarn in the marketplace and went to the Opening Reception where, after a wonderful greeting by Stephanie and Tina, the entire reception room burst into spontaneous applause and standing ovations, and then we all hung out and talked and mingled and I shook Barbara Walker’s hand and had conversations with Lucy Neatby and Sivia Harding and Abby Franquemont and Ann Budd. And then I talked to Deb Barnhill about toe-up socks until the room was nearly empty, and then we all went off to our separate crash pads hotel rooms, and now I’m having difficulty believing that all of this is actually happening to me. I suspect I am not alone in this.
Day One of the Sock Summit has passed, and already I am having difficulty recalling everything I have absorbed and experienced so far. It is a singular thing, being here. Anything else I try to compare this to has some level of institutional formality or structured system of recognition or higher levels of impatience or air of…well, normalcy, that really has no place at Sock Summit. Everyone I have met so far – attendees, teachers, vendors – absolutely everyone has commented on how much this is unlike any other event they have attended. I am trying to think of another event or gathering that I can compare this to, and am coming up short.
Everyone has a smile, everyone is game, everyone is knitting.
Rebecca and I keep having conversations throughout the day and saying things like, “Hey, you know [X knitter] I met/took a class with/talked to/shook hands with is the nicest ever.” And then the other will respond with, “But you know who is also the nicest ever? [Y other knitter] I met/took a class with/talked to/shook hands with.” And on it goes. And this goes for teachers, attendees, vendors, everyone. There are unlimited photos, conversations, and sock appreciation, and this weekend isn’t even half over yet.
Today, I touched a sock knitted by Elizabeth Zimmerman. I learned about colour-work from Janel Laidman. I learned about knitting socks from Meg Swansen and Amy Detjen. I listened as Stephanie Pearl McPhee and Tina Newton described the Sock Summit journey in alternating laughter, delirium, and tears. I met dozens of people and many new friends. So far, Sock Summit is awesome.
Can’t wait for more.