Monday, April 11, 2016

Road Trip Weekend


Rain, then sleet, then snow, then more rain. Road trip weather. I feel so cozy in the warm car with trucks whooshing by, the wipers steadily flapping, and the Beatles White Album on a continuous loop. Why don't we do it in the road? Catdog snoring away in a pile of quilts in the backseat. Knitting on my lap.

I thought these socks were going to be so great--the yarn is Paton's Kroy sock in Spring Leaves Mix or something like that, gray + neon yellow, which, as you know, is one of my thangs--and it was tantalizing in the skein. And maybe it's because we were on the road, but the asphalt gray, yellow and cream and black stripes ended up looking like the highway.

And they wouldn't stripe regularly--I came to a knot where the next black stripe was completely missing, thanks, Patons--and I'm not about to pull fifty yards of yarn out onto my lap looking for a place to splice while we hurtle along the Interstate. Road knitting is there to keep me from going bonkers when we hit the inevitable traffic jams and end up having to sit in one spot for hours. [Cleveland! Get it together!] So I just knit the yarn that appeared, and these socks are identical cousins. Road trip socks, finished.

Seeking out yarn shops, as one does when on the road, I found one that was open until Midnight. Let that sink in. You're at home in your jammies and your circular needle suddenly snaps without warning. You find yourself one skein short of finishing. You need six buttons but you only have five. You have emergency late-night yarn shop needs, you know you do! Well, they're open. This is such a good idea. This is Insomnia Cookies, but for knitting. Fantastic.

Another stop on the road: my lifelong best friend is an artist with such an interesting story to tell (she should be the one to tell it) that someone out there is looking for funding to make a reality show about her life. Not even kidding. She thinks it would be the most boring show in the world, but I think that's how most interesting people would feel. Who, me? I'm just living my life, nothing to see here. She's interesting and funny and beautiful. You'd watch her show. I'll tell you about it if/when it happens. Part of her wonderfulness is that she will just take paintings off her walls and hand them to you; she's a generous soul with boundless love to share.

So much color and beauty and light. I sit in with her in her studio draped with prayer flags; paintings covering the walls and piled and stacked everywhere, her dogs in my lap, the catdog running with the pack, and am amazed and inspired. Home.