Lemonade

I’m leaving again shortly, a quick jaunt to Newmarket to teach at Unwind Yarn House. Newmarket is super close to Toronto, but because I can’t drive at night, and because the earth is on a tilted axis, there’s just no way that there’s enough daylight to let me drive there in the morning, or come home tomorrow night on my own.   This is, to put it mildly, a bummer.  I can’t drive at night year round, but this time of year? It makes Cinderella’s midnight look like freedom.  I’ll leave the house shortly, to drive and arrive before the bright shining day star sinks below the horizon and stay in a hotel tonight. Joe’s being an amazingly cool guy and taking the train to meet me tomorrow, and drive our car (with me in it) home again so that it’s not two nights away.  We thought about doing it the other way – me taking the train, and him driving to get me, but until you’ve seen the sort of luggage a knitting teacher packs, you wouldn’t believe it.  Silk, cocoons, needles, yarn, samples, computer projector… it’s better this way, and he’s super nice to do it for me. 

I can admit that I was a little sad about sleeping away from home again, and had the tiniest bit of a pout about it, sort of grumping and wondering what I was going to do in a hotel room from 4pm until 8am the next morning, and then I came to my senses. Since when don’t I know what to do when there’s nothing to do?

I’m a knitter! I never have nothing to do!  I’m going to knit and watch a movie and I’ve already packed my little picnic to take with me, and I might even stop on the way and get one of those little single serving bottles of wine – actually, I might cut loose and get TWO.  I’m going to plow through a big chunk of the Lyrica Euterpe shawl that should, by all rights be finished, and I have even contemplated grabbing my travel wheel on the way out the door.  Instead of being sorry that I can’t be home, I’m going to take this evening for what it actually is.  A gift. A wonderful opportunity to make a serious dent in a project or two.  I’m looking at it as a mini-mumcation. A whole night with no responsibilities – except to a few balls of yarn.  No laundry! No dirty kitchen floor to make me feel guilty about knitting! (Not that I go wash it mind you, I just feel guilty while I knit.) Hell, I might even have a bath.  Write something without being interrupted! Go to bed early! Plan Christmas! Make nine lists! (I love lists.) Get a grip on my unreasonable use of exclamation points!

It’s going to be a treat.  I know your answer will probably be pretty close to mine, but if you had an evening in a hotel room by yourself, what would you do?