It Wasn't Boring: The Short Version
Blogger ate my post. It has been such a comedy of errors the last few days that I don't know why I was surprised. Trust me that the lost post was witty, amusing, detailed, and full of knitterly interest. Sadly, you will get the bulleted version. Blame blogger.
- I went to Rhinebeck.
- We had a wonderful time.
- I practiced restraint in purchasing, getting only a 3-lb bag of lambswool fleece and a book of top-down toddler patterns for me, and two toy sheep for the kids.
- My restraint was due solely to the fact that I was there solo with two kids and I frankly couldn't shop because a) I had two toddlers with me who needed to keep moving and b) the double stroller is kind of *wide* to go into booths with.
- Where, you ask, were my parents, who were supposed to go as an easy, meet-them-more-than-halfway-grandchild-access opportunity? Not there. Last-minute (and I mean I was already in the car) cancellation. We will now lower our expectations even further than they already were. My mom has a decent excuse. My dad has no excuse. They suck. Glad I've had a lot of therapy. Trying to make sure my kids don't need it too. Grrr.
- The kids were amazing. We all had a lot of fun together. Photos to come. It was one of the first times I really felt like we were hanging out together, and I wasn't just desperately trying keep them alive and content. It was a lovely day together in the sunshine, under the leaves, and fiber was involved. Phooey on my parents. They missed a great time with some really cool kids.
- Met a few bloggers sitting at the next table at lunch. Saw the famous Rhinebeck sweater in the flesh, and resisted the urge to call out "Hey, Harlot, you finished it!" I remembered her actual name. Smart me. LOL. Chatted with some other blogger types. Felt a little like the dorky kid at the dorky table but hey, I was with the cutest guy AND the cutest girl so it was all good. The blogger table was full of friendly people, though in my 30-seconds permitted by the Two Year Olds for adult conversations, I did not get any names other than Harlot's, I mean Stephanie's.
- The adventure actually began when I LEFT the festival, and the car blew up. On the Taconic Parkway, which is officially in the Middle of Nowhere. I would like to add that I intentionally took The Good Car (DP's 98 Ford Taurus Wagon), not The Beater Car (my 93 Subaru), because it was more roadworthy. Insert ironic cackling here. Highlights included a smoke pouring from the hood; waiting an hour for a state trooper to show up and another 20 minutes for the tow truck (it could have been MUCH worse considering I was, as I mentioned, in The Middle of Nowhere with no idea what part of nowhere I was in--did you know they have a "map room" at AAA?); not being able to find DP at her scrapbook crop, the host of which has an unlisted phone number, or at least one Cingular wireless is incapable of finding, so having to call my mother to get her to look it up on the Internet (clever gambit on my part, knowing the host is also a LLL leader and has her phone number on the LLL web site), especially enjoyable was the part at the beginning of the call to my mother when she thought I was calling to see how she was feeling (yes, I'm a bitch); holding two shivering children in the front seat of a tow truck; paying over a hundred dollars for the privilege, because supposedly AAA does not cover "the parkway" (whatever, he had my car, I just signed on the dotted line at that point); waiting an hour in a diner with two overtired toddlers for DP to drive the perfectly-operating beater car to pick us up; and then paying $500 to find out if the car is worth fixing (is it "just" a head gasket or do we need a new engine--it's never a good sign when the word "just" occurs in close proximity to "head gasket." Trust me.). I am proud of myself for staying calm (actually to the point where I think I freaked the trooper out a little bit) and doing a good job of being the calm, strong, reliable mom my kids needed when they were cold and scared. And I'll leave this with the image of a 6' state trooper walking into a diner carrying a stuffed animal he fetched for me from the car. Two children, one stuffed animal=worth asking a big favor of a big cop. Nice guy. Good sport.
- So now I'm tired. And annoyed with my parents even though they wouldn't have been there for the Taconic debacle. But now I don't have to feel guilty about this year's excuse for refusing to schlep my kids into NYC t0 my parents' non-childproofed home for the traditional vegan thanksgiving feast. And I have a bag of lambswool to spin. And a book. And Klaralund looks great and I got lots of compliments. I did something dangerous, took a gamble, and it paid off. I'll post about that tomorrow.
- The kids were insanely overtired today, and Henry didn't nap for the second day in a row. And I taught my friend Jen to knit while drugging my kids in front of the TV. She's a natural so it was easy. I do think some of remember it from a past life. She's clearly one of those.
- I missed my deadline with Einstein but only have one sleeve left so that's on hold while I start the Kureyon Jacket kit that came in the mail today (ordered late Friday night--what service!). Still trying to get gauge. Color 131 is orangier than I expected. Hopefully this will be quick. I can't really make head or tail of the instructions, so I'll just knit them and see what happens.
PS: I do understand why Blogger's spellchecker wants to change "bulleted" to "billeted," but why does "knitterly" want to become "janitorial?" Is that some sort of a comment? What is it supposed to mean?