It's all a blur. . . literally

Don't go taking the headline, coupling it with the photo above and putting together some scenario that involves me partaking of some dark ale and making a fool out of myself. I am not that kind of girl.

Let me explain: as you know, we loaded ourselves and our junk up and headed to Illinois to meet fellow bloggers, friends and family. The weekend was so packed full of fun and happiness (not alcohol) that it literally flew by. . . in a blur. Hence the headline.

You see, not only had we scheduled a trip to see Pilot, Needlefingers, Brando and Rudy, but our favorite knitter had also put together a bit of a blogger rendezvous, planning a meet-up with Farm Wife (who now sadly is without a connection to us all via the Internet).

I must admit that I have never actually met face-to-face with someone I have known only over the Internet, but it was such a rush and so very exciting. We set up our meeting at a local festival and when we finally spied one another, I was so very excited. There before us was the most adorable, funny and entertaining Farm Wife along with her three beautiful, shy and adorable children. When I say beautiful: I mean gorgeous, sweet kids, which introduced themselves so very politely and with tiny little voices. It's amazing how easily we talked, picking up from where we left off via blogging and e-mail. However, I was so tempted to call her Farm Wife and not use her given name. It's so hard to make that transition.

Our only glitch is that we have to find a way to get Farm Wife back online. So, I am in full force coming up with a plan. Hold on, Farm Wife, we will save you!

The festival we attended was called Old Settler's Days and the very first thing I spied with a performer yielding a whip which he used to snap flowers held by unsuspecting audience members. Very interesting, very entertaining and a little bit scary.

Flax colored canvas tents were stationed all along the perimeter of the fairgrounds. "Settlers" passed in complete period attire, mingling among the modern day visitors. It made me want to don a bonnet and I was tempted to ask Cynical to call me "Half Pint". We also spied Mother Goose, soldiers, blacksmiths, wagoneers, and spinners. I am always enthralled by such things of the past, admiring the ingenuity, creativity and survival skills of those that came before us. This festival was right up my alley.

Blowing winds and threatening rain meant we had to move the party. We vacated to the family homestead and visited while Farm Wife's kids mingled with Brando and Rudy's. Like their parent bloggers, they immediately found a common ground and commenced with playing. My favorite moment of the meet up was when Baby Girl said to Yuri, who had retreated to sit with the adults for a bit, "Hey, wanna come have some more fun?" I am gonna use that line whenever Cynical is ready to call it an evening.

Eventually it was time to end our meeting and sadly Farm Wife had to make her way home, her three sweet children in tow, her mini-van disappearing in the distance.

Ready to "have some more fun", we made our way to a coffee shop for knitting, good conversation and Scattergories. What do you get when you mix some caffeine, a unique venue, a cozy couch, good coffee and a witty hosts, you get some pretty creative answers and a great way to wrap up the day.

After some more good conversation, we retired for the night and woke up to smooth coffee, cinnamon rolls and kitties frolicking through the house. Moving very slowly, we finally got ourselves up and going, and carted some of Needlefingers' scrumptuous soup to the family homestead for lunch. The happenings following lunch are much too bizarre to describe and I will leave it up to Pilot to provide the details and perhaps photographic proof of the insanity.

Sleepy and not ready to go home, Cynical and I reluctantly packed up the car and made our way home, forgetting to make a stop at Needlefingers' house of yarn, but vowing to make a stop upon our next visit.

I was sad to leave. I wasn't ready to leave, but in reality I know that work and home called.

My contacts had really been bothering me this weekend, so the moment we hit the door, I took them out. Fumbling to find my glasses I realized that I left them in Illinois. I am now hoping that they are indeed where I think I left them and the kindness of our hosts extends to sending them to me. Alas, sock knitting will cease until they arrive. So, you see, it is truly (and literally) a bit of a blur right now.

Special thanks to our hosts. As always, you made us feel so very welcomed and spoiled us. Neeldefingers, much thanks for your patience in helping me in my knitting quest. Hopefully we can return the favor soon.

Authentic root beer is a tradition at this festival, so we couldn't refuse buying a swig or two for ourselves.