I survived last night, and even did so with relative good humour and happiness, undaunted by my head cold. There was 15 minutes in the car on the way there, when being driven by a what I have been told now was a “real Jersey driver” (I have never gone so fast in a motor vehicle in my life) while listening to him scream at his wife on a cell phone to tell him what exit to get off at that I a) considered telling him what exit he could get off at, so help me or B) thought that perhaps leaving the house had been a significant tactical error. By the time I made it to the bookstore I was so grateful to have been not killed in a fiery and explosive crash that my own personal mucous issues seemed entirely irrelevant.
There was also a 5 minute stretch while I was speaking where I know I must have looked vague and pale, clutching the podium and hoping that I should not faint, not because it is unhealthy to faint, but because I knew certainly that my collapse would be blogged from here to Thailand, complete with pictures. (Such is the nature of bloggers. They would certainly tend to my wilted and prone self, but they would take a picture first, perhaps even with a sock posed on my senseless form. ) Thankfully the moment passed with me still on my feet, a gift for which I will be eternally grateful.
Behold, the Knitters of New Jersey!
Okay, now pay attention, because these people are interesting but I have to write about them quickly, because Juno is standing at the door in her Rhinebeck clothes and I am unbathed and blogging.
This is Megan and Thaya, the cutest wee pixie pre-knitter.
Meet the young knitters, William, Hilja, Leah (she’s the short one, the taller is her enabling mother Maggi) and my stalkers Leah and Briana, to whom I pointed out that if they really want to be good stalkers, they have got to stop getting one of their mum’s to drive them. All the best stalkers have their own cars.
Heather is knitting her first sock
Sue knit a sock of shame. (Once again, only denial lets a knitter accomplish something that size and then actually ask her husband to try it on.)
Here’s Melisa, saying hi to her Mum Mary in Caddagap Arkansas (they don’t see each other enough)
The skein Mavens,
Washcloths, from Australia and Pennsylvania.
Amy’s – Squared.
Dian, Carly and Maria, who met and knit together on the bus each day
Michael, proof here that he turned up and gave me beer as so directed by Tola
and finally, the revered and esteemed Judeth,
Who is donating that rare and venerable copy of the Principles of Knitting for a raffle so we may better raise money for Knitters Without Borders. More about that later, but know that she is a gem among knitters.
Now, wagons ho – for Rhinebeck beckons. I’m there today and tomorrow, today- shopping and enjoying, tomorrow signing (mostly all day) and speaking (at 1:00) in the Author tent, check your programs for how to find that. I’ll be the one with the kleenex.