We have arrived...
Though we travel almost annually to Maine (I missed last year because of work), this year we've tried a new approach.... FLYING! First by Greyhound, and then via United Airlines.
Greyhound gives me food for thought:
We took the Greyhound into Chicago. It was about 1/3 the price of other methods, and allowed me to leave my car behind (thus avoiding an insane charge for parking it). I was surprised and pleased at the ease of the trip. The bus driver was, as expected, courteous and pleasant. The passengers were also very courteous... it was almost eerie. I was surrounded by people from walks of life that rarely intersect mine, some of which I'd assumed were peopled with folks I wouldn't enjoy spending time near... and I found that my prejudgments were ... off.
The large, but definitely not fat, young black man who sat across the aisle from me said things like "excuse me Ma'am" whenever he moved past me. He engaged in minor conversation about the condition of the roads and other neutral topics. I'd have been perfectly comfortable seated next to him for hours on end.
The person behind him was also pleasant. He'd taken a baby from a woman passenger seated several rows up.... I assume they were related in some way. He was holding the baby, and fed it and generally kept the wee lass happy. He was also very courteous as he reached past me to get things like baby bottles from his traveling companion.
At one point in the trip, I overheard a conversation between these two pleasant young men. "Which joint you jus' get out of man?" "Western. Don't ever go there man." "Yeah, I been. Ya don't wanna go there"
These two men were more polite than most of the lawyers I work with... Makes you wonder.
Proselytizing on the bus
While on the Greyhound, I finished the FUG. Yay. (It spent the rest of the trip nicely folded in a plastic bag.) While we were paused at a stop, I draped it over the back of my seat to check for lingering uncut end... and the person behind me asked if I'd knitted it. We got to talking about knitting... she wanted to learn so that she could knit a blanket for her as yet unborn baby. She asked where to learn, where to get supplies etc. I told her about our LYS, and classes, and the Saturday morning group. I showed her the knit stitch, and the purl. She watched me knit a bit on the Gentleman's sock. She was a delightful young lady (with what appeared to be a "Jesus" tattoo right about where you put your hand when you put your hand "on your heart". I hope she winds up at the LYS when she gets back into town.
Back to the FUG.
Yes, I'm a bad blogger. I took NO photos of the finished Fug. Instead, I mailed it off at the first opportunity, which turned out to be not until we arrived in Maine.
Having finished the Fug, I was free to focus on Thistle and socks while I relaxed at my Aunt's Hyde Park apartment. Thistle revealed to me two things: one was a minor annoyance, the other was clearly because it wanted to be sure I knit both sleeves twice. First, I discovered that I'd knit merrily past the point at which I should have started the decreases for the sleeve cap. That wasn't so bad; I merely frogged back 7 rows or so. Then, when I started the decreases, I discovered that I didn't have enough stitches. Some 30 or so more rows ago, I'd missed an increase..... so, of course, I didn't have enough stitches... So far, I've knit back all but 12 of those frogged rows (from the second set), and am back on schedule to cast off for the sleeve caps in a bit.
After a restful night in Hyde Park, we drug ourselves out of cozy beds to catch a car to the airport. We caught that car at 6:30 a.m. While this may not impress some of you, it was quite the challenge for me. At 6:30 a.m. I tend to be sleeping. soundly. I rarely rise before 7:30. But I managed to get up, rouse the girls, shower, dress, double check that everything had indeed gotten back into the various bags from which the girls hauled things, eat something, and get the bags and troops downstairs to meet our driver. It was luxurious to ride to the airport calmly knitting socks instead of panicking about the traffic.
Once we'd checked in at O'Hare, and gotten the two largest bags checked, we headed off toward Terminal 2 and our gate. It turns out that our gate was quite near the post office... so I was eager to get the Fug in a box and on it's way. Alas, it was not to be. Every post office I've ever been to opens at 8:00. Some even by 7:30. Not the post office at the airport. Of course, our flight left at 9:30. hmph. J volunteered to carry it (a task she actually enjoyed, because she thinks the fug is soft), but the Fug tried to escape. Once we were seated at our gate, armed with smoothies and fruit for second breakfast, it lulled us into complacency, and almost managed to be left there. Luckily, I caught it, and J was able to corral it once again, and the Fug flew with us...
We were met at the airport by a friendly driver, who took us almost all the way to my folks' house. She met us in town, and fed us lunch. Thereafter, our first order of business was a stop at the post office, where I bought a box, put the finished garment (still in its plastic bag) into the box, and shipped it off to Kentucky. Then, we got books at the library and headed for home.
I love this place.
I'm settled in with knitting and family and good cats and dogs... and hope to forget what rushing is all about. Tomorrow, I may even figure out how to get pictures off of my camera and onto the blog...