The knitterly masses hath spoken, and the resounding winner is....

Whaddaya think?

OK folks, time for another game! It's called "Name that Shop."

You were such a tremendous help with the KR notecard images that I'd like to give you another challenge. What should this new storefront of mine be called?

Keep in mind that it won't necessarily sell yarns, so "Clara's Knitting Shop" might lead to great confusion. Fiber-themed goodies, yes. Notecards, writing pads, framed photo prints, calendars, jewelry, antiques/collectibles, catnip-stuffed knitted mice, tea cozies, scented sachets and laundry potions, vintage buttons...

BUT... It will also be the headquarters for Knitter's Review.

The only name I have in mind is "KR Boutique," but this could be a bit too dull and unclear. Any ideas?

Wow, what a remarkable turn my life has taken today. I'm so excited that -- were it not for the presence of a snoozing cat on my lap -- I could just burst.

Where to begin? I'm not quite sure, so I'll start at the end: In early June, Knitter's Review will have its very own storefront. Not just any storefront, but the same storefront where Sal's father took her for ice cream in Robert McCloskey's children's classic, One Morning in Maine. And it's also the same storefront where little Clara bought yarn for her first project oh so many years ago.

For years and years, this adorable little building housed the post office in one side and assorted shops (including Mary Chase's weaving studio where I got my yarns) on the other side. And before the post office took up residence, it was a general store -- and that's where Sal's father bought her ice cream on that fateful day she lost her tooth.

It's a lovely little space with huge south- and west-facing windows that overlook a front porch, the main road through town, and -- until the trees leaf out for the season -- the harbor. That's right, actual ocean views! I discovered the For Rent sign this morning and sprang into action, because I covet this building above all else. By 3pm I was inside, being given a tour by the upstairs tenant, who had baked lemon ginger scones in honor of my visit. Intense afternoon light was streaming through the windows and I could see sparkling ocean in the distance. It was too good to be true, I thought.

But just a few hours later I was on the phone with the owner, who asked, "Is May too soon?" Surreal!

I'm not sure exactly how this storefront/office/warehouse/sanctuary will end up looking, or what combination of objects it will hold. Notecards, calendars, collectible fiber-themed new and antique items, possibly some framed prints, knitted and woven items, antique quilts, imported English teas (to go with antique teacups, perhaps?), vintage buttons, and possibly a host of marvelous smellies from France. The possibilities are (seemingly) endless. The town is a very popular destination for yachts, sailboats, and windjammer cruises in the summer, hence the higher percentage of not-entirely-knitting-related gifts.

How does this impact KR readers, you ask? Probably not at all unless they happen to enjoy traveling to Maine. And if that's the case, my door will be open and tea kettle simmering, and I'll try to make sure I have at least one extra comfy chair just for you.

I seem to have very little blogworthy commentary these days. On Friday I was bending over to admire the teensy weensy beginnings of new life in my garden when my back suddenly and completely went out on me. So I spent the weekend in a horizontal state and am slowly getting back on my feet. Nary a stitch or weft shot was made, although my couch position afforded me a prime view of my empty loom. Most frustrating indeed.

During my forced rest period I was reminded of the curative powers of murder mysteries. The ice packs, heating pad, aspirin and Advil did very little to ease the pain, and I soon discovered I was far too restless for knitting or even a movie. But I was able to lose myself completely in the adventures of Maigret (Georges Simenon) and Lord Peter Wimsey (Dorothy Sayers) for hours and hours and hours. Thank goodness for books.

Spring is slowly trying to make its way up the coast, although its progress is slower than I wish. The pond has almost completely thawed, which changes my view from a still grey and white to a contstantly flickering sea of blue. And a huge group of goldfinches have taken up residence in the trees by the kitchen windows, much to Casey's delight. That guy really has the best life.

On the "Why I love my neighbors" front, this was a four-star weekend. On Saturday, one of my neighbors brought me a mason jar full of beautiful maple syrup that she'd made from the sap in her very own trees. Of course this made it absolutely necessary to have pancakes for dinner, which I did, and they were exquisite. Then on Sunday, there was another knock on the door. "Do you like scallops?" asked my other neighbor, with a big bag of fresh scallops in her hand. (Grilled scallops ended up on Sunday's dinner menu.)

And last Wednesday the Country View Drive-In (affectionately called Garbage View, even though the actual view is lovely) opened for the season. Now that my back is getting better, it's only a matter of time before I have my inaugural fish burger and onion rings there. (I can hear my liver ache at the thought of it.)

Such is life on the coast of Maine!

Time for yet another gratuitous cat shot. Infinite thanks to those of you who have perused the notecard possibilities and sent me your choices. I've spent so much time looking at these images that I don't even see them anymore, rather like a word becomes strange after you've repeated it for the 50th time. The Sturbridge Yankee Workshop bench arrived and is working brilliantly, by the way. For those of you who don't yet have a loom bench and are on a budget, I urge you to consider this one. Less than $80 and it's actually quite attractive and well-made, in a spartan Danish sort of way.

Feeling creative? How'd you like to help me pick the images for our third round of notecards! I began with about 35 pictures and have narrowed down the choices to what you see here. Take a sneak peek and send me your votes.

Done! Both the dishcloths (now serving as under-the-plants decoration on the piano) and the bay window (see image background). A red-letter weekend indeed.

Dishcloths still aren't done, but I am getting close. By dishcloth number 3 I was getting bored so I started adding twill. Success? Failure? I'm not quite sure. Meanwhile, we're due to get snow this weekend. That's right, SNOW.