The Love Lettering Project IV: Halifax tales, Part 2

I may have mentioned that I love Hali. Love love love. Granted, it’s always been sunny every time I go, and word has it it does actually rain every now and then, but I think of that place and positively beam.

My first early morning love lettering stop was right between The Economy Shoeshop and the Seahorse Tavern, where a friend and I once had an epic Alice-falling-down-the-rabbit-hole evening that featured a bar full to the brim with Lithuanian hockey fans, a Jack Black look alike with a cowboy hat, and drinks that may or may not have been called “The Lobster Trap” and “Tall Ship.” Who doesn’t love long rabbit hole nights on the East Coast…

My next stop was to a yarn store I stumbled across the night before. I had just completed my first attempt at reading patterns with a few pairs of socks and was ready to tackle mitts. The Loop Café was even better inside that it had been peering through the window, chock full o’ huge shelves of local yarn. They even have a café upstairs – how perfect!! Tea and knitting all in one!

For me, yarn is like ribbon, or buttons or big bolts of fabric – as delightful as it is on its own, it’s always better in huge piles of different colours. And so, a love letter for the next person who dreams in ssk’s and k2tog’s…

A musician friend who has often travelled to the East Coast said I just *had* to get to the Farmer’s Market on Saturday morning. I was working a crazy long day, but it turned out that the market was right next to my hotel, so I managed to sneak over to ogle the buckets of flowers and admire the crepes and munch on delectable gluten free macaroons. It was too rammed and busy to covertly drop off a love letter, so I saved them for the walk along the pier.

And ooh, the pier! The wind was so strong, I think the Atlantic might have been the recipient of some love lettering bits. I am just smitten with peeling wood anything and as soon as you add sunshine on water, I’m a goner.

A wee love letter to that fabulous place:

It is a city of hills,

salt bleached footsteps

and bridges that stretch

without names.