I was a little late getting on the road yesterday morning, but at least one of my favorite places is only a couple hours away:
I drove up because one of my favorite children played in an honor band in the afternoon at UMD (my other favorite child was home getting ready for her birthday sleepover). I got to town plenty early for the concert, but not with quite enough time to make it to Playing With Yarn. So, I puttered around by the water for awhile, and then headed up the hill toward campus. The park bathrooms are locked for the season; take your chances with the porta-potty. Consider yourself warned.
Happily, there was time for a little lunch next door to Yarn Harbor, where I didn't get to spend nearly enough time. I picked up a few issues of that fabulous magazine, Wild Fibers, but nevertheless, I think a return visit might be necessary. After all, I only made it halfway around the store!
Back at the lake, I walked over to give my regards to Leif and there was the oddest little thing. I suppose that one of the downsides of sailing west for months on end is that the sun is always in the eyes. Another might be the risk of being immortalized vaguely squinting:
When I was a kid, we spent hours on this piece of shore, throwing rocks into the water and ignoring my mom's warnings to be careful. It looks the same, but I appreciate it differently now.
I also brought along my good intentions:
but was only able to cast on and barely get started before the concert. When it grows up, it should resemble a Debbie Bliss sweater. I worked on it for awhile after getting home and it looks like it will be finished before baby outgrows it.
That's Rachmaninoff in the middle. Lizst and Mozart were the wingmen, but they declined to be photographed.