Every once and a while, I fantasize about opening my own yarn store. I love to think about how I would arrange all the yarn and fleece and roving and needles and bookshelves and chairs and lighting (and on and on). Last night, the following conversation occurred in my household:
M: "I feel conflicted about the best way to display yarn...whether to have a sample yarn out but keep most of the stock separate so it doesn't get messed up, or whether to have tidy bins of yarn around the store..."
S: "I think you should have buckets of yarn."
M: Looks at S, mystified. The word "bucket" seems incongruous with my idea of a yarn store.
S: "Yes, and each bucket will have a monkey on top of it, and they will throw random yarn at people."
M: "I bet they'd throw wool at people who are allergic to it, though."
As if that would be my greatest problem.
3 comments:
The manifestation of a career malaise, boys and girls. It ain't pretty, and involves monkeys...
Michaela left out the most important detail: the monkeys are wearing fezzes. And red vests.
That kind of goes without saying, doesn't it?
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