Knitwits Up North

Well, we survived. Our Knitwits knitting group went away for a mini vacation together.

Six ladies, five towns, four blocks of cheese, three days, two jam-packed cars and one house later, we're all home safe and sound. Barely.

See the back of the vehicle in the photo above? That belongs to PKB, the Queen, and B. It's to-the-top full and we had barely crossed over the border. I think their car was full before M, Sissy, and I even met up with them.

These are some serious shoppers.

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When I know I have to face the Man once I get home, I try to buy things that will fit in my traveling bag. Small things, things that will squish into small little bits that can be tucked away.

Not things like lamps.

The Queen bought a pair of lamps. Yes, she got a great price on them. And, yes, they're beautiful.
But you can't hide lamps in your suitcase. And lampshades. How is she going to sneak those into the house?

You have to think about these things.

We visited one of the bigger cities on Saturday and walked around the harbor area where all the cute little shops are located.

I spied this very pretty lady out for a walk with her owner. She's a cross between a husky and a German shepherd. I knelt down and started snapping away and before I knew it, I had a small crowd gathered around.

They must have thought she was a famous dog with a photographer trailing along.

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The gentleman on the bike was great fun to watch. He passed by us three times, playing his electric guitar with the amp strapped to his back.

Playing a guitar while riding a bike. That takes some coordination.

He almost ran over Sissy and I once. We were crossing the street and a truck had stopped to let us cross. As we stepped out from in front of the truck's grille, the guitarist/bicyclist came out of nowhere and had to stop abruptly. Or hit us.

He smiled and gestured for us to cross. Once we got our heart rates under control.

We did lots of fun things this weekend. 

Found a chowder festival to {not} attend. Rested at every chance we got, either in the stores or at the spa. Ate at an Irish pub with the Queen, who hates Irish things. Exited the freeway, drove in a circle, and then entered the freeway again. One of our vehicles almost ran out of gas. And the driver let us know when she was just about on fumes. Then told us she would prefer we find a Mobil station. 

On fumes. In the middle of nowhere. And she wants a Mobil station. 

We found a different station and pulled in so she could fill up. We all got out, and the other passengers joined us to let us know the driver would really rather have had Mobil gas. She's lucky we found this station, we replied. The driver paid for her gas, we climbed back in the cars and drove off, heading to the city.

Not a quarter mile up the road we found a Mobil station.

B seemed to be finding her balance all weekend.

It was either the wine or the big wallet that was throwing her off.

Stopped at a vintage dress shop just to see what they were selling.

Pretty 1950s prom dresses, like the one above.

I love that dress.

And there we are. Minus PKB. She had to leave a few hours before the rest of us.

But that's okay. Next year she can stay for the whole weekend.

Already looking forward to it, ladies!