Thank you, I have my own bag

This weekend, we went to pick up the yarn I needed to finish the baby blanket, and as has become my custom, I slung my Dumbledore's Army messenger bag over my shoulder. I've been doing this lately when headed out to get things-other-than-groceries (for which I have other reusable bags), in my ongoing effort to reduce the number of plastic bags we collect. So off we went in the car, to Michael's, and picked up two skeins of yarn (one of which was the wrong colour and soon became too much of a temptation for Priest, but that's another story). We headed straight to the till (do not pass go, do not collect et cetera and so on). The cashier rang them through and started to put them in the ubiquitous plastic bag. "No thank you," I said, "I brought my own bag." At which point she said the weirdest thing...

"Oh! And the idea is to fill it up?"

I stared at her. "No," I said, "the idea is to not have plastic bags in the house."

"Oh."

And there was an awkward silence.

I've thought about this for some time. Did she think I was attempting to curb my spending by limiting myself to the size of the bag (which is pointless, because how much space does an MP3 player or a diamond ring take up?)? Did she think that my sole purpose that day was to purchase enough stuff to fill the bag, and my day would be complete? I'm sorry, but I've got enough stuff in my life without adding more. I needed the yarn to finish the blanket this week (and I did get it done, and it's washed). It's not like I came to the register with half of the store in my hands. I came with two skeins of yarn, and I said that I had my own bag.

It's truly mystifying. We apparently have entirely different starting points for thought, this woman and myself. She probably thought I was a complete weirdo as well, if she thought of me at all.

Anyway, more yarn news; I went to a LYS just a five minute drive from work yesterday to pick up yarn for a snood (traditional definition and what I'm actually knitting) for Priest. Mike nixed my idea of red or some other gorgeous bright amazing counterpoint colour, saying that when we get another greyhound (note the "when"), I can pick the colour scheme for that one's accessories, but he's picking Priest's, and that means shades of black and grey. *sigh* Anyway, I picked up a lovely rich dark brown skein, and two skeins of a grey tweed, both of which will look nice and be fairly sedate. When I came home and after we had our little afternoon ritual of getting out of the Xpen, running to the front door, being let outside to stare over the fence from the deck, and sullenly putting up with having his paws wiped, I showed them both to Priest. I know, probably not the best idea given his yarn fetish. But he sniffed the brown, then the grey, then the brown, and then tried to take the grey away from me. So it was the grey I cast on (four times, don't ask) last night, and I'm 5 rows in to K4P4 ribbing. I still suck at purling, but I have a plan to learn Mom's way over Easter so I can stop unraveling the yarn when I do so. And please send me good thoughts when I get to the cable part. I've never cabled before.

This weekend it's a Chinook Winds Meet and Greet (our first!) on Saturday, and a St. Patty's Day Greyhound Walk on Sunday. Priest is going to sleep for a week. Heck, so will I. But hopefully this time, we don't forget the camera in the car.