Bartlettyarns changed hands this past week. I love this yarn. All indications are that the people who bought it love it, too. But seriously, think for a minute about owning a yarn mill. Not only a yarn mill, but the oldest in the country. Like winning the lottery, if you ask me. Oh I'm sure it comes with its own set of headaches, like any other business, including what sounds like incredibly old machinery. But still. I've allowed myself to revel in the thought for too long. I'll go back to lowly yarn end-user now, instead of dreaming of snagging hanks of lanolin-rich, color-bursting rugged yarn right off the line. Oh, the smell of it.
Ok really. Back to life, as they say.