Petunia rambles on and on….

The Eastern Shore Yarn Crab Crawl 

Buy a tote bag, hit lots of yarn shops, get 20% off all yarn purchases, meet new people, see folks you haven’t seen in awhile, spend money, listen to great music in the car between stops. What’s not to love?

While the sale prices were a big draw, budget issues were the big drawback. I’m dealing with some money-sucking medical issues that currently are at the top of the priority list when cash is being doled out. These problems are more expensive than serious, taking a great deal of time, causing a great deal of aggravation and generally have me thoroughly pissed most of the time. Medical insurance will pay for only the least of treatments, the cheapest way of handling the issue, the one that insures I will have ongoing problems for years to come. They will not pay for the more expensive method that 3 specialists recommend for my situation, a course of treatment that should correct the problem, or at least keep it at bay for many years, a course of treatment that, in the long run, would be far cheaper. That’s our health-care system here, where lawyers and insurance companies decide your treatments, rather than your doctors. Oh, well, if only my bitching could cure the problem.

I knew up front that I wasn’t going to hit all 10 participating shops; had no intention of doing that much traveling and spending! And I decided early on that my current resurging interest in spinning was going to affect where I went. So on one of our trips (Pop went too!!!), we headed south and hit Frivolous Fibers in St. Michaels, Maryland first because they have wonderful goodies there and there was a shop sort-of nearby that carried fiber and because St Michaels is such a lovely little town!

Frivolous Fibers always carries Blue Heron Yarns, and they are to die for, to cry over, to touch and fondle, to pet and caress, to admire and treasure – and at some point, perhaps even to knit with. Maybe.

I was not strong enough to walk past this yarn, in this colorway, blueviolet. I’ll explain that to the surgeon. He’ll understand.   Clapotis??

I knew I was right to buy it when I saw this button up at Vulcan’s Rest.

Pretty well sums up my lifestyle, doesn’t it??

Insane Moments that make me HAPPY!!!

For years, we’ve sat at a tacky, small, wobbly table.  It was a tiny cheap thing that Paul bought years and years ago, because it was cheap and small.  It didn’t get bigger or better with age. The chairs didn’t survive as long as the table and they were replaced with equally cheap chairs. We’ve said for years that the whole set needs to be tossed and something decent bought.  But it didn’t happen.  When I saw a set that I liked, a tuition bill needed to be paid, or some other item took precedence.  When I had some extra cash, well, that’s when you never see anything you like.

The stars aligned last month – or I just finally got fed up with sitting at a table that wiggled so bad you couldn’t sign your name on a check without spilling your coffee! In a burst of financial crazy, I proved I’m nuts.

There was a matching china cupboard available, but I gained some sense of fiscal responsibility before I went that far – but it may still happen! (I’ve had this dark pine one for 30+ years!) The table is much longer, and wider than the old one. The legs are almost square and make for a much more stable table surface – Pop tried to make it wobble, really tried, but it stayed still!! I’ve always loved the Windsor styled chairs, too, so I’m very pleased with the set.

It’ll be nice to have guests over for dinner and actually have room to put food on the table!

Yeah, I don’t blog much anymore.   The things I NEED to talk about, I can’t talk about here.  Soon, all will be revealed – heh!

So I’ve had a few weeks of Wednesday and Thursday off with Pop – one of the things we wanted to do was take the Cape May – Lewes Ferry across the Delaware Bay, spend the day in Cape May and return on the last trip south. The trip takes about 80 minutes and I believe it’s about 18 miles across – I’d have to check out their website to be sure. But we planned on doing it for an enjoyable day out on the water, fresh air and sun on us, a bit of sightseeing – not because of some dire need to go to Cape May. Of course, every day we’ve had off together, it’s either rained or threatened to, gray, overcast, gloomy. Just not the sort of day to make a really enjoyable trip. Such is our luck.

One thing we did a few weeks ago was go down to the AMC (Air Mobility Command) Museum. I had been in it once for a USAF retirement ceremony of a friend; Pop had never been there. Originally, it was inside the base perimeter, but near the fence; with the increased security of a post-9/11 world, the museum is now accessible from the outside. The weather was misery, but ceased raining for a wee bit – we did the outside displays first.  This was a wise choice.

Pop was in the US Army when he was a young man, but I guess anybody that was in any branch knows the planes. He went around the field, calling this one and that by name like they were old friends, when actually, many of these types of planes took him to places he really didn’t want to visit. He pointed out several that he had jumped from – the very idea makes my stomach dance.

Apparently, they sat in these canvas seats, waiting for the proper moment to hurtle themselves out. UGH! Not for me! This particular aircraft was also used extensively for ferrying wounded stateside for advanced treatment. Gurneys could be locked down into the flooring. He sent many home. As a medic, that was part of his job. Many times, helicopters came out in the field to retrieve casualties; his job, out there, was to stabilize the patients, get them as fit as possible to travel to a hospital facility.

He remembered this fellow. Showed me where the stretchers would go, how many they would jam in there, how quickly they had to do it, so they could get it airborne again as soon as possible.

This is one Manchu “doc” that doesn’t forget, ever. The ones that he helped save. The ones that were lost. Forty years of remembering.

So as it started to rain, we went inside – and the part he liked best was a “simulator.”

He made a beautiful landing on his second try!! His first try demonstrated why I don’t get into airplanes. They have a rule that you can’t make more than 2 attempts if others are waiting, or he’d be there yet.

(And note to other Manchus – that’s a “Keep Up The Fire” hat there)

And for fun –

Only locals will get the sad, silly humor in this. “Cheswold Intnl, 8 miles” refers to a grass strip runway in the town of Cheswold, just north of the base. The town now has a traffic light and several Stop Signs. It does not have, never did have, never will have an international airport. And at the top of the signpost – mention of the “old Heartbreak.” Everybody for miles around knew the Heartbreak down in Bowers, had stopped in there for a beer, had fallen down in there. It was an old place, way old, in a little community right on the Delaware Bay. It saw many an argument, many a brawl, many a high tide, too many floods, hurricanes, locals, tourists, love affairs, fisherman. The barstools were at an angle because the floor was that badly warped and crooked from all the water.  If you walked a straight line in that place, they knew you were shit-faced drunk!  It’s gone now, and it took a lot of memories of good times with it.

We had a nice day, that day.

Damn, I sure haven’t been blogging much! 

Have spent some time on Facebook and through that, I’ve found some friends that I haven’t seen since school days or shortly thereafter – and that’s a few years now.  It’s wonderful to find out, after all these years, how people are and what they’ve done with their lives. I’ve had some surprises there, and almost every one was a powerfully good surprise. Not that I’ve spent my life pining after these people, but just the odd thought now and then. “Gee, I wonder what ever happened to So-and-So? Does he own his own major corporation? Die of an OD in ’68? (Hey, that was sadly common in my generation)

When my kids were little, we spent a lot of time in the car. Being a military family, we were always going here or there, or making the long trip back home to see family. When we settled, finally, we were a good bit out of town, so we were frequently on the road, to the grocery store, to the mall, to the schools, to friends’ homes. And always, I bitched at the kids, “Don’t put your arm out that window!” and the kids all rolled their eyes back, thought of me as an overwrought, over-protective head case. I found a friend on Facebook, and then a video of my friend on YouTube, and was able to show the kids why I am the way I am. And I’ve been this way for a long time, before any of them were even born. (they still think I’m a nut case, though)

Going on with the nut case theme.

In a previous post, I spoke of the newly acquired Schacht Ladybug spinning wheel. I tried to tell the husband that I bought it used. After all, it had been set up in the store and I sat with it for several hours before making a decision on it. (that makes it “used”, right?) I don’t think he bought that story. But the “Bug” is all I hoped she would be. So much easier to treadle than my Ashford Traditional. So much easier that I’m starting to wonder if my old Traddy girl isn’t seriously out of whack in some way due to age – hey, it’s happening to me, why not her? Knowing nothing about spinning when I bought her off eBay, learning alone using the trial-and-many-errors method, what would I have known, smooth from wobbly? I didn’t have anything to compare to, having never used any other wheels. Now, I’m looking at her and wondering if she’s got some real “health” problems, or is it still simply a factor of “I don’t know much.”  Anyway, Bug is so much easier, to spin my singles, to ply. I didn’t realize that there should be this much difference!  Should I get the Traddy to a doctor?

On the last Sunday of each month, Vulcan’s Rest Fibers has a “Spin-in” for all to attend. Bring your wheel or a spindle, come sit with the group, chat, laugh, general silliness, much fun. I spent Saturday doing household chores, and on Sunday, loaded Bug into the car and headed north.  (There were no monsoons, thanks for asking)

 

 

Had a lovely time with the ladies, worked on a Louet merino/silk blend in Lichen, a soft green. Bought more fiber, 3 natural shades of wool that I’m thinking of taking with me when we go up to the mountains for a week next month. Loaded stuff and Bug back into the car for the trip home, planning on being there by 6, before Pop got home. Ugh, then I realize/remember that it’s Sunday, the day he gets off at 5.  He’ll be home by 10 after; I’ve got an hour’s drive.  Ooops. 

See, I’ve been very somewhat “forgetful” lately.  Not sure whether it’s simply a factor of age, or that I’ve got so many different issues going on in my life right now, with my head going in odd directions ALL THE TIME.  Might be stress-related – have some of that, too. So on Sunday afternoon coming home, Pop’s truck is already in the driveway as I pull in. He knew I was going up to Vulcan’s Rest and wasn’t at all surprised when he saw me come in with my purse and a rather large bag of fluffy stuff – fluffy stuff taking up a great deal of space per pound!  What did surprise the shit out of him was seeing me coming in the door carrying the spinning wheel. I saw his eyes jut quickly over to the corner of the living room where the wheel had been sitting for the past two weeks! He confessed later that his first thought had been, “Oh, hell, she’s forgotten about the first one and gone and bought another!”  I guess he’s envisioning a really bad end here, where I’m running around insanely buying everything that catches my fancy, and he’s up to his arse in spinning wheels.

He was relieved to realize that the one in my arms was the one that had been in the corner all along, the very same one. Sadly, it ain’t over yet.