To know you are loved

Cynical and I have made our way home, home from the big city. By big city, we mean Kentucky's largest, Louisville. We left before dawn yesterday in time to make it to a breakfast reception for my brother and his new bride. It was an opportunity to share the holiday with our newest family members and to see some of those that have been around a while. Held at Masterson's in Old Louisville, it was such a pretty venue.

After we left the party, we stopped by two yarn shoppes, Cynical indulging my habit just a bit. We made it to the Knit Nook in the Highlands area, off Bardstown Road and then to Sophie's which was a bit of a trek. Both proved fruitful, as I came away with some yarn, of course, a few books and even a book of stocking ideas for perhaps. . . . next Christmas.

A few wrong turns and cell calls later and we had managed to find the home of a dear college friend. My Dear L is awaiting the birth of her second child, and this visit gave us a chance to not only see the mommy-to-be and the anxious father, but also to play a bit with her three-year-old son. We had time enough to squeeze in a late lunch. I wish I could put into words how much Dear L means to me. Our friendship has managed to survive being apart for the majority of its life. We are able to connect instantly even though it's been months since we've talked in person and we rarely have a chance to e-mail. She's someone I know I can always call upon. She's one that loves me and knows I love her right back. She's a blessing in so many ways, one of those people who knows me inside and out, and will let me be me. I can only hope I am returning the favor. To know you are loved is what often keeps us moving and I know I am loved whenever I hear her voice.

It took a while for us to say farewell and I must admit that I was teary-eyed as I hugged her goodbye. It's not fair that dear friends don't get enough time together. . . and we always crave just a few more minutes.

We checked into the Seelbach, which was lovely and ornate and beautiful. Mall shopping, a little dinner downtown, a bookstore stop and soon we were settled into our bed and luxurious sheets. Our early morning was catching up with us. Our sleep was interupted by other more exciteable guests, but all-in-all, it was restful just knowing we could sleep late.

After an incredible breakfast, we braved the dropping temperatures and spitting snow for coffee before we hit the road.

And now we have a respit before we begin a hectic few days. . . hopes are everything moves along smoothly. And it should. . . afterall I love and am loved.

The stairwell at the Seelbach and the lobby tree.

Watch out! The vacation express is moving full speed ahead. . . with or without enough shoes

This week we are in full Get The Heck Out of Town mode. My list is extensive, my schedule tight and my OCD raging. I love to travel and I must admit that there is a part of me that even likes the preparation. While I immediately go into robot mode and start chipping away at the mound of stuff we have to do, my dear Cynical if frozen by the vast array of things on his list. It's ok, as that just makes me work faster and more efficiently and it all comes out in the end.

Right now we are striving to find answers to the age-old packing the car questions and discussions such as:

-I need shoes appropriate for each part of our trip, so let go of the "two pair are ample" mentality.

-There is nothing wrong with bringing three pieces of reading material. What if I am not in the mood for "Eat, Pray, Love"? Speaking of "eat", what sorts of snacks are we bringing?

-Do I have to wear make-up on vacation?

-The big suitcase it the better choice for me, right?

-We have room for approximately 25 of your favorite CDs, choose wisely or else it's Dave Matthews Band and ABBA for approximately 20 hours of driving time. (This could be a treat as my rendition of "Fernando" is, shall we say, "memorable".)

-Now would be a good time for a new camera, don't you think?

-I will have Internet access, right?

-She must love us if she's willing to clean the litter box while we're gone. She's getting more than an "I *Heart* Charleston" t-shirt.

Changing sheets and changing moods

Every single Sunday night at about this time, it hits me, "My weekend is over." It's over. Come tomorrow morning I have to get up at a sensible time, put on sensible clothes, pack a sensible lunch and act, well, sensible. I am never ready for sensibility.

Hold onto your seats, at Chez Ragged our weekends are one happening party after another, filled with intrigue and excitement.. Our weekend began with us nabbing dinner out, spending a portion of my Target card, stumbling around Sam's, downing some coffee at Starbucks and making a grocery run. Yes, we went to the grocery and Sam's on Friday night. I don't know what got into us.

On Saturday I drove to our old college town and met up with, of course, a friend from my higher education days. Scientist E is one of those people I rarely see and each time I do, I wish I could somehow borrow one of those transporters from Star Trek (and not be required to wear one of those unforgiving uniforms) and visit her daily. E is one of those people that sees through all of the crap to the real meaning of things and prioritizes accordingly. She knows what's important in life: people. She is fiercely dedicated to those she loves and I admire that in her.

After a multiple cups of coffee, a quick trip to the yarn store, (which I sorta added to our list of "things to do" during a frantic e-mailing session) a lingering lunch and some shopping, I headed home.

I love road trips. And in all honesty, I never seem to mind if I am making said trips alone. Some good music, a big old fountain diet coke or Snapple Asian Pear Tea and I am ready to go. I tend to leave early so I can make some stops along the way. I tend to underestimate the time it will take me to get home, as I follow the same pattern. I do my best thinking driving alone, music lulling me into a quiet zone.

I got home, of course much later than I had intended, where I found lasagna prepared by dear Cynical. And for some reason unbeknownst to me, I was in a horrible mood. It wasn't the lasagna, it wasn't because we weren't getting any snow. I am not certain what was nagging at me.

I was sad, inside and out. Maybe it's the impending work week. Maybe I miss all of my friends that seem so far away. Maybe I just needed a down day, time to wallow a bit and feel sorry for myself.

Today I should have joined Cynical in his visit with his family, but I stayed at home, took a very long shower, watched a movie I've seen 100 times, knitted on my Jaywalker sock, did laundry and admired our new sheets. I didn't want to spill my mood over onto anyone else.

And now it's over. Our weekend has come to an end.

I don't recall when I shot the photograph above, but certainly it could have been taken any day of the week at any hour, as Ike never seems to tire of napping. Pun intended.

Grumble, grumble

I had a great day and even though I should be writing about how awesome it was, I wanna moan and complain. I am in a rotten mood. I am grumpy. I am not a happy camper.

Excuse me while I grumble.

Ever just want to go to bed, cover up your head and hide out until tomorrow?

(I am praying for snow.)

Birthdays here, birthdays there, birthdays everywhere

Our Saturday is all about birthdays. Our niece, Princess M, officially marked her second birthday with a big blowout including cake, balloons, present opening and a big red wagon.

In a few hours, we'll meet my folks for dinner and a celebration of my mother's 60th birthday. I expect much of the same, sans the red wagon.

And, it's official, Christmas has left the building. We stripped the lights off of our tree in shifts and finally drug it out the door, leaving a wake of needles. Things feel a little barren in our living room, but I have to admit, that I am glad to see it go, it's time to get on with 2007. I have to admit, however, that if it hadn't been a real tree, it might have made it until next week, unless, of course, the tree fairies did carry it away.

I cannot believe that there are only two more days left in our vacation. I am starting to experience that familiar "Ugh, I have to go to work soon" feeling. Gone are the days of sleeping late, wearing my glasses and eating butter cookies for breakfast.

I also need to start on those New Year's resolutions. Maybe the same fairies that I wished would take my tree will get off their tiny little rearends and write them for me.

PS: Still time to enter the "Name The Sock Monkey and Win a Wonderful, Fabulous, Incredible Prize" contest. How about I take submissions until midnight New Year's Eve and announce the winner January 1?

Above is the remnants of Christmas 2006, one gift yet to be delivered and a bare corner. Below is some beautiful Cherry Tree Hill yarn gifted to me by Pilot and Needlefingers and the cutest ornament, which I am pretending isn't an ornament, but rather a little something for my bookshelf. (And a skein I came by in a transaction with Needlefingers, making it double the fun.)

And the good stuff keeps coming

I woke up early this morning, sneaking out of bed well before Cynical even considered getting up. I used my time wisely: doing some work, knocking some chores off our list and grabbing a shower.

You see, we had big plans ahead of us, and I didn't have time to waste. We were heading to visit Needlefingers, Brando, Pilot and Rudy.

After a much-too-short visit, Cynical and I headed home and in an unexpected burst of energy, took down the remainder of the Christmas decorations. However, we lost our umph shortly after hauling the twenty-first box downstairs and an ornament-less-still-lighted-dried-out tree is still standing in our living room. Don't call us quitters, we are just pacing ourselves.

We celebrated by going out for dinner and after one margarita, I was ready to go home and stare at our bare tree, hoping if I wished hard enough it would disappear before my eyes. It didn't work, by the way. Oh, well, there's always tomorrow.

The tree will come down tomorrow. Bet your bottom's dollar, there's tomorrow!

I can feel it in the air tonight

I swear that yesterday I smelled fall approaching. I walked outside briefly and noticed how sticky the air felt and as I took a deep breath, I could, for a moment, sense the sweet scent of fall. I could smell the leaves beginning to turn and the field beginning to be plowed back under after a fruitful summer. Just for a moment.

Another shot from Lampkin Park, located at the center of Bowling Green's downtown.

Nice way to spend a Saturday

We had originally expected to spend our weekend on a romantic camping trip, but the heat foiled our plans and we had to resort to Plan B. Plan B was a visit to our old college town. It's a quaint community that is growing by leaps and bounds. In addition, there have been lots of changes to the campus, so we decided to take a look for ourselves.

The problem with trekking to Bowling Green is that each time we do, I find myself longing for my college days and designing plans to move back. Then reality sets in and I realize that it's true that you can't go home again.

I loaded the official anniversary CD in the car, counted out money for tolls and we set out for Western. Our first stop was a yarn shoppe, of course. ('Cause we all know I don't have enough yarn.) Then we headed downtown for lunch at a local restaurant that is just off the square. Bowling Green is one of those towns that has a beautiful park at its center featuring a large fountain surrounded by big oak trees and benches. After lunch we meandered around that park and snapped some photos, stopping in my new favorite place on earth: Eclectic Style. Ever walked into a store and decided that you just wanted to move in. I plan to live in Eclectic Style.

A quick tour of campus followed and soon thereafter we found ourselves at the mall where once again I realized that it was truly not meant for me to purchase clothing. I give up. It's official. I am going to continue to dress like a librarian and hope that no one asks me to explain the Dewey Decimal System.

We're home now and I am contemplating starting a sweater.

Above is a shot from Eclectic Style.

Is that the new thing? or I drove all night to get to you

There were three giddy girls. There was a train. There was a lot of yarn. There was a lot of giggling. There was a lot of chocolate. There was even a mascot. There wasn't much sleep. There isn't much cash leftover. There weren't many vegetables.

As you know, I finally left on the heralded Stitches 2006 Yarn and Yawn Tour. I'll get to the yarn later, but for now let's focus on what's making me yawn away my Monday morning.

I hit the road Friday morning, mixed CDs within reach. Along the way, I stopped to pick up my new best friend, Polly. Polly Pockets, that is. We met up at a McDonalds somewhere between here and there. She was sporting her very own knitted halter and had surprisingly little baggage, so she was welcomed on the trip with wide open arms.

We reached our next destination where Needlefingers tossed her travel bags in the trunk and we took another short trek to meet up with Jenny from the Blog. Jenny hopped a ride and the four of us headed for the train station, another hour or so away.

And the festivities began. I hadn't ever ridden a train, so I was all aghast at the prospect and giddy with anticipation. We sprung for business class, but unfortunately we didn't get to sit together, instead finding ourselves one behind another in the single seats along the right side. I pouted, but all-in-all it was a quick and peaceful trip filled with memorable fellow travelers including a young blonde child that had that "Children-of-the-Corn" gaze, note passing, boozing grannies and a cranky Aunt Rita.

We pulled safely into the station and hailed a cab and got tucked away into the hotel, complete with a complimentary cookie and the knowledge that the roll-away bed we'd been promised was not to be.

Chitting and chatting and chitting and chatting continued until bedtime. We awoke Saturday morning complete with cash and tickets in hand, ready to do our damage at the market. Traversing habitrail-type walk-ways we soon entered the Land of Knitting, where all of the inhabitants clicked away with needles, talked of silky yarns and consulted over Intarsia techniques.

We set about on what we thought was a methodical plan to see each and every single hank of yarn and knitting notion there. Soon, however, overwhelmed with the knitting happiness, we found ourselves wandering aimlessly. So aimlessly in fact that my first purchase was a potholder loom.

Soon enough, we came back to reality and our original plan thanks to the nourishment of pizza and fountain cokes. Refreshed and organized, we hit the market again and I soon found myself lugging quite a yarn haul including my very own ball winder. In the midst of the purchasing fury, we met up with Sherry, a fellow knitter and blogger.

Sherry was attending an entire bank of classes, but broke for a bit to shop along with and eventually joined us for some knitting back in the room, where we admired our stash and did a ritualistic dance to celebrate our bounty. Sherry had snagged a beautiful hank of sock yarn that I coveted so much that we scooted back to the market with minutes to spare before closing so I could own yardage of my very own.

I cracked open the new fancy ball winder and wound myself two skeins of sock yarn so that I could begin working with it immediately.

A Chicago-based friend soon joined us and we bored her to tears with knitting speak and tales of the perfect yarn. Scribe M and I eventually headed out the door in search of a celebratory dinner . She began a new job this week and we needed to mark the occasion. And that we did. Dining at Morton's on an incredible meal, we gabbed and visited and caught up with each other. We all met back up at the room and wasted away the late hours tellling stories, some of which are to be tucked away in the vault.

Sunday promised much of the same. As we entered the doors of the market, we were originally working under the notion that our shopping was done, we were just "browsing" (which apparently means purchasing). Our plan was foiled whenever we once again spied the Brooks Farm booth where I found the perfect yarn for a Clapotis. Surrounded by all of the beautiful yarns and textures, I couldn't resist and I joined our pack of knitters in purchasing a hank of my very own.

Eventually it was time to trek home. We headed back to Union Station where we devised a plan of attack for melding into the boarding line and landing seats together. (The plan even involved code phrases, but I think those areonly effective if you let everyone involved in on the code.) No sleeping on the way home because the a/c in our car was broken and at some point I think I could see my breath and feared if I fell asleep I'd suffer from frostbite and amnesia. We found ourselves back where we started. After stopping for probably the only real meal for the day, one that didn't involve chocolate or cheese crackers, we began our original journey in reverse.

Realizing that I missed my dear Cynical and wanted to head home, I decided to make the drive south Sunday evening. More tired than I realized, I had to sing my way back home in order to stay awake. I got home, dropped my luggage and yarn at the door, slipped off my shoes and went to bed. Cynical was sleeping soundly and only said upon my tugging of the covers, "Are you home?"

Luckily I took Monday off from work, as today I have attempted to sleep, but to no avail. I have yawned away my day photographing my finds, eating tomatoes and channel surfing.

In the event that you love yarn and associated items as much as I do, I have saved the best for last. My haul: (sans a pattern, set of needles and a little bag I just couldn't get a good photo of. Apparently I will only be knitting socks for the rest of my life. . . oh and a beautiful Clapotis scarf/wrap with my incredible Brooks Farm yarn.)

Fly Super Sport 3-ply Hand-dyed Merino Wool (Ruby Redmond, which I renamed Chocolate Covered Cherries)

Cherry Tree Hill Supersock Superwash Merino Fingering Weight Wool (I am calling this Baby Greens)

Opal Sock Yarn (Lady Bug)

Blue Moon Fiber Arts Socks that Rock Superwshed Merino Wood Medium Weight (Rock My World)

Notable Yarns by Brooks Farms Harmony Mohair/Wool/Silk Blend

Trekking XXL 75% Wool/25% Nylon Sock Yarn

Blue Moon Fiber Arts Socks that Rock Superwash Merino Lightweight (Spring Fling)

Chunky Misti Alpaca (The caked yarn came in a scarf kit; the cream will be used for a Christmas gift.)

My very own metal potholder loom. I couldn't resist. I even created one while gabbing in our hotel room Saturday night.

And gotta love the new ball winder.

All I want is a couple days off

The problem with planning something you are really looking forward to is that, if you are like me, you are worthless until then. Tomorrow is my last day at the office this week and then I am off to Chicago, leaving out on Friday.

So, now I am acting like a kid on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to bring me everything I ever wanted and more including a metal detector, Fashion Plates and my own copy of "The Outsiders". Thing is, I am not a kid, I am an adult with work obligations, with cat hair issues and laundry to do all before I even hit the road.

Like Jennifer and Needlefingers, I too am wondering why we didn't just leave today and get this party started.

I have done a lot of flying, a lot of driving and a lot of traveling in general, but this is actually my first train ride. That fact is only adding to my excitement.

In the meantime I am occupying myself with the logistics of trip preparation. I have my list of yarn desires, I packed my knitting projects for the train, the house is clean and the laundry is drying. Now, I just gotta get through Thursday.

I must tell you that even though I completely love traveling. Even though my bags are packed and my car is gassed, I will miss my dear Cynical. I so love sleeping with him near.

PS: Still time to enter the contest. I'll announce the winner when I return.

A shot from the orchard I visited on Saturday.

I couldn't ask for anything more

By now you have gotten the picture that I had a very intense week at work. In light of this fact, we decided we deserved a weekend of shopping, dining outdoors, and 80s music.

In pursuit of all of these things, we loaded ourselves in the car, found a radio station playing our favorite 80s music and hit the road. We made a stop in a little town just across the river that has become my very own happy place. While I perused and touched everything in their local yarn shoppe, Cynical walked along the river and enjoyed the incredible view. We met up at a tiny little cafe where we ate lunch outside. . . yes, outside! The stormy weather has swept in a cold front and temperatures were aroud 81 degrees.

Sittting outside on the tiny little deck, we relaxed and enjoyed the uninterupted time together. We eavesdropped as others joined us and watched as people meandered down paths leading to the water. Next to the little cafe is a little garden carved out between buildings. It's a gorgeous little oasis and adds to the allure of this place.

We pulled ourselves away from deck and went on to find some clothes for work. Our pursuit was fruitless and we left frustrated and without anything we were in search of. I did, however, come home with some yarn, some knit-oriented magazines, a cat bed and a very good buy on a pair of shoes. All was not lost.

Above is a shot of the garden next to our little cafe. Next you can spy a shot of my yarn purchases. Some Cascade for a bowl project, two balls of Trekking for socks and some Regia. I couldn't resist. The last is of my $9 Liz shoes. They are clogs and have some sporty fabric on the sides. I know they are a little old-womanish, but they are so great for work and so comfortable. . . so, yeah, maybe they are old woman shoes.

Friends, family, fireworks and fiber

Wishing weekends didn't end so soon. Wishing we didn't have to make the trip home. Wishing that work didn't get in the way of all our fun.

We have returned safe, sound and sleepy from our whirlwind trip to Illinois to visit Needlefingers, Pilot, Rudy and Brando. Our trek got off to a rather rocky start as we learned that our reason for leaving on Saturday instead of Friday was for naught.

However, after a quick stop along the way, we finally made it to our destination, just in time for a cookout, birthday cake and gift opening. We wrapped up our evening with a fireworks display in a nearby town. Lots of light, lots of loud "booms" and a little frustration with the fireworks setting on my camera.

Lazy from the heat, we turned in earlier than our hosts and slept late into the next morning. After breakfast we got a chance to see the Brando and Rudy's super secret project in person. The patio, landscaping and fish pond are beautiful.

And dear Yin, well she's quite the looker in high heels, a feather boa and an eye patch. Special appreciation to Yuri for sharing his prize piece of icecream cake.

After lunch along the lake and some site-seeing, we returned to Chez Needlefingers/Pilot for some more quality time and knit-tutoring while the boys napped.

Regretfully we eventually packed our bags and bid farewell.

Big thanks to our hosts for putting up with us and a reminder that we need to set up a date to return the favor.

(PS: I wrapped up one of my top secret blogger exchange socks.)

A shot of the fireworks using a special setting. It doesn't do the display justice.

Parting shot

My bag is packed. My yarn bag prepped. The cats have plenty of food and water. A little gas in the car, bags tossed in the trunk and we are ready to head north. Here's to safe travel, cool breezes and knitting in the car.

Another shot from the farmer's market. My parting shot.

Family, friends and fiber

Seems I have been so busy lately that I forgot to share two pieces of news with you. No, I am not with child and no we aren't engaged as a result.

We are, however, making the trip to Illinois this weekend to visit with family and friends in celebration not only of the long weekend and Independence Day, but also the birthday of two friends/family/fellow bloggers: Pilot and Rudy. I will spare you the singing and wish you the happiest of days full of uneventful and speedy work hours, perfect weather, good food, birthday surprises and cake.

We'll be leaving on Saturday morning and returning Sunday night, and I am excited about going, now if we can just get through Friday!

And in other news, I am planning to attend a Stitches Conference/Yarn Market event (heavy on the yarn market part) in Chicago with fellow knitters, friends and bloggers Needlefingers and Jenny from the Blog. Much excitement surrounding this trip as it promises nearly every mode of transportation, lots of knitting time, much yarn consideration, good company and of course Chicago. As an added bonus I may be able to visit briefly with my best friend, Scribe M.

Oh and as for knitting, I finished the third spiral rib bag. It's posted rather poorly in the finished objects section. The bath mitt is complete, save the seaming and I am so very intimidated by seaming.

A different take

A friend and I went on a home tour this evening in a town across the river. She was interested in snagging some decorating ideas for her new home. She had eliminated most homes from the tour and was focussing on the upper end of the spectrum. While touring she explained that last year she had visited a home valued at $3 million. That's quite a price tag for our area and I was floored.

Before I could stop myself, I replied, "Can you imagine how many homes $3 million could build for those either homeless or in substandard housing?" This was my very first gut reaction. I couldn't fathom the disparity.

I snapped a few shots on the home tour. I paced out one of the showers and it is larger than our entire bathroom. I tried to photograph a closet with 9-foot tall ceilings and shelves covering the entire expanse, but I couldn't depict the magnitude.

Another home had a massage room without external access so your masseuse wouldn't have to walk through the entire house to "serve" you. I kept thinking, "I just want hard wood floors, a laundry room and to be able to run the washer and vacuum at the same time."

The photo here was of a very intricate, but beautiful antique chandelier.

It's hot out here for a camper

Even though we knew it was going to be a scorcher, we decided to pack up our tent, Oreos and lots of liquids and meet up with family for a long weekend of camping.

On Friday Cynical and I gathered all of the food that fit our fancy, loaded up the car and got ready to leave with our departure scheduled for Saturday after Cynical returned from a quick hour's worth of work. The rest of our party had gotten to the site on Friday and were well entrenched when we arrived.

Cynical and I got lost yet again our way there. You'd think that we'd have the path engrained in our memories, but alas, it's like the first time every time we go there for some reason.

After some welcomed assistance setting up our tent, we settled into the eating. Lots of eating. That's what you do when you camp. When it's hot and you camp, you eat and you drink a lot and then guess what you do. . . you take the long walk to the bath house and back.

I must admit that the heat really took a lot out of me. Shhhhh! Don't tell Cynical as I tried to put on a brave (glistening) face for him, in order help him forget and deflect the heat. The heat zapped our energy and so we found ourselves turning in early both nights.

Generally, when the weather is cooperative, we stay up late with Needlefingers and Pilot and visit, play cards, relive music of the 80s and 90s and giggle uncontrollably. This time, however, I turned in my cards and musical ability (chuckle, chuckle) for sleep and restoration for the next day.

We did manage some geocaching, which resulted in me admitting that I am certifiably a "sweater", coming from a long line of people who sweat.

I played Yatzee for the very first time, actually winning a game, much to my suprise. Cynical apparently had played this game all his life. I, being a newbie to the game, was a little worried when they used terms like "full house" and "straight". I was never one for poker and was pleasantly surprised when it didn't involve a single card.

Once the sun went down on Saturday evening, we opted to clobber one another with clubs in a game of mini-golf. I must admit that the greenskeeper left the place in a bit of a mess, but we trudged through and learned, without a doubt, that often it's ok to be a quitter. It's ok after five shots on a hole to call it a day, move on with hopes of playing better on the next one. Quitters always win, at least that's how we see it.

This morning we were all very anxious to pack up in an effort to beat the heat. We didn't succeed, but we did head home early enough to get everything in the house, and squeeze in a nap before having to dig into getting ready for the week.

Now we are relaxing in our beloved air conditioning, contemplating dinner. I am still wishing we were away from it all: all the stress, all the cat hair, all the dust, all of the phone calls and even the television. Cynical, however, I suspect is perfectly content with a cat on either side of him and a remote control nearby.

The photo at top was taken along our sweaty hike. The park has beautiful trails and had the heat not be unbearable, I would have loved to explore a bit more. Below is my official camping attire: flip flops and wrinkly pants. I am one hot camper, literally.

Running on empty. . .

It's Friday. It's pay day. It's casual day. It's the last day before a long weekend. Who could ask for anything more?

Well, I certainly could ask for someone to come dig through our camping gear, test our batteries, buy our food, check our propane, load the car, ice down the drinks and pack the appropriate amount of clothing for each of us. But I know that asking won't get me much, so I'd better kick into gear and get some of this stuff done myself.

Generally when we go camping, we head out on a Friday afternoon, so in a frenzy on Wednesday and Thursday, we scramble and cram everything imagineable into our car and head out immediately after work on Friday. However, a scheduling conflict means that we will not be joining our fellow campers until Saturday, so we mistakenly thought we had more time and I have wasted away my week with movies, knitting and season-finale watching. So, now I gotta pay the god of time and hurredly get this party started.

We are excited about going, but Cynical is dreading the heat and has been pouting all week about it. I am certain he thinks I have some pull with Mother Nature and I have assured him that if this were true there are several things on my request list ahead of summer heat.

I am ready to get out of Dodge. I am ready for marshmallows, crickets and sleeping bags. I am glad to leave behind the blow dryer, the television and the vacuum.

I am anxious to giggle with our fellow campers, eat lots of snack foods and laze away the day moving from campsite to campsite. I just want to be there and not have to get all of this stuff together and packed. I guess you gotta pay the price for such good times, eh?

Color me happy

Just a shot of some pottery at the Newburgh Wine Fest over the weekend. I just loved the color combination and geometric shapes.

Big ideas

Just a shot of some beads at Old Settlers' Days last weekend. Oh, the possibilities.

Wishing we could turn back time

Wishing it was still the weekend. So, here are a few photos to take me back, if only for a few minutes.Officially obsessed: knitting in the car. Above you see my a yoga mat bag in the making. A gift for my mother courtesy of a pattern in Stitch N Bitch Nation.

Shot similar to one published by Pilot. Watching this guy patiently dip candles much the way they did truly during the settling of the United States was fascinating.

Watching the spinners was so very soothing. I am still completely enthralled with the entire process and so pleased that people like Needlefingers take such care to create beautiful yarn. She will remind you that this is not a quaint rendition of an olden chore, but a hobby (or way of life) that is alive and well today, with artists across the country creating and spinning.

Needefingers and Pilot have heightened our interest in making coffee again. I suspect ours will be nothing as strong as the "cowboy coffee" brewing in the pot above.