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wool.
    Walking from the foyer into the central yarn room, Kelly found even more temptations.
     Wooden bins lined three walls, floor to ceiling, filled with every type of fiber—wools,
     mohair, cashmere, alpaca, baby alpaca, and combinations. Pudgy round balls of yarn
     as fat as Kelly’s little finger. Small, delicate coils of silken twists no thicker
     than a single strand of hair.
    “Good morning, Kelly.” Mimi’s voice broke into Kelly’s fiber indulgence. “You’re coming
     in for a coffee break, aren’t you? I can see your empty mug.”
    “You’re right. I’ve finished my pot of fresh coffee and decided to combine a coffee
     break with starting a new project.” Kelly smiled at Lambspun’s attractive owner.
    In her early sixties, blondish, blue-eyed Mimi Shafer was still pretty and youthful-looking.
     Mother Mimi, as Kelly and her friends called her, was also the in-house expert on
     All Things Fiber. Knitting, crochet, spinning, weaving, felting, dyeing, no matter—Mimi
     knew about it and had done it many, many times. Any question you had, Mimi could answer.
     Which Kelly found reassuring, since she always had lots of questions.
    “A new project, how exciting.” Mimi’s smile spread. “Have you picked out something?”
    Kelly trailed her fingers along the delicate silken fibers of a coiled skein. “Nothing
     is calling me yet.”
    “Well, in that case, you can help me out by knitting a baby hat for our knitting guild’s
     charity contribution to the hospital pediatric wards. There’s a continuing need, not
     just for babies going in for cancer treatment, but also newborn and premature infants
     need hats to help their little bodies retain warmth. We lose most of our body heat
     through our head, you know.”
    “Oh, yes. All you have to do is lose your hat while you’re going down a ski run to
     discover how cold it is. The last time that happened, I thought my ears would drop
     off. They were nearly frozen by the time I reached the bottom of the run.” Kelly shivered
     dramatically, even though it was hot outside.
    “Well, then, why don’t you help out the guild by knitting one of those baby hats while
     you’re deciding on your next project for yourself.”
    “Hmmmm. I’ve never knitted a baby hat before, but I assume it’s exactly like knitting
     a regular hat. Only smaller.”
    “Precisely. You’ll use much smaller needles, but it’s still exactly the same.”
    “Smaller needles, huh?” Kelly looked at her skeptically. “I foresee problems. I’m
     not sure I could work on those teeny-weeny needles. I’d never be able to manage them.
     I’ve seen Lizzie work with those, and it’s fascinating. But I’m much too clumsy.”
    Mimi gave one of her dismissive waves. “Oh, pooh. You’re much better than you think,
     Kelly. You could work on the larger needles, if you wish. There are plenty of older
     babies who need hats, too.”
    “Sounds good. You and the experts can handle the preemie newborns. What are you using
     for yarn?”
    “Cotton yarns. Come over to the next room, and I’ll show you.” Mimi beckoned Kelly
     as she walked through the main room with its long library table. Knitters and fiber
     artists of all persuasions gravitated there every day to work on their projects.
    Kelly dumped her briefcase onto one of the chairs as she followed Mimi to the adjoining
     workroom and classroom. Floor-to-ceiling wooden bins lined the walls here as well,
     but half of the yarns here were of the softer pastel shades. Adorable baby and child-sized
     sweaters and dresses and other knitted outfits dangled from the walls.
    “Here’re all the cottons that would be suitable for baby hats,” Mimi said, gesturing
     to one large section of bins. “You’ll have plenty to choose from.”
    Kelly looked at the variety of beautiful balls and coils of yarns stacked neatly into
     the bins—but she never got to choose. Jennifer came rushing into the room from the
     hallway that led to the