So I’m a very lucky person. I live in the same town that Clara Parkes does, about four blocks away. For years now, (how many, Clara?) we’ve had a standing Thursday coffee date at the local place across from my office. Thursday because that’s the day after Clara’s Knitter’s Review is published and she’s free to leave her desk. Do we make it every week? No. Mostly? Yes. I’m here at my desk and the phone rings, “Hiya, Pammy!”
This past week, after the chaos of summer fun, we met for the first time in weeks. And look what Clara brought with her–for me! A copy of her latest book, The Yarn Whisperer. Only Clara could write a book with that title.
My shelves spill over with books on knitting and related matters. But there are three or four that sit four-square on the closest shelf, and I always know where they are and I frequently refer to them. Two of them were written by Clara, The Knitters Book of Wool and The Knitters Book of Yarn. What I know about fiber and yarn, I learned from Clara.
The Whisperer, however, is at home on my couch. It’s that kind of read. A book about knitting–sort of, kinda, maybe. But, really, it’s more about a life (Clara’s) lived in and around a lot of yarn. About ‘a’ life, sure, and, as with any book that matters, it’s a book about Life. And there’s knitting in it. And I can’t put it down.