back from beyond

I am so glad to be home. Things aren't quite organized--camera batteries are dead, there is no food in the refrigerator, piles of books needing to be read and clothes needing to be washed are multiplying hour by hour--but I am glad that I am out of the airline system and have no trips planned for the near future.

If I had a gazillion dollars, I would devote myself to creating a different long-distance public transportation system in this country. Bring back the railway, I say. Bike trails to everywhere. Canals. Any alternative to planes.

Anyway, about the Projects. The blue lace shawl is one of those ill-fated items that insists on never being quite done. First, as you may remember, there was the issue with missing instructions in the middle of the Peruvian desert. Well, I got it home, and found the instructions, and took it on the next trip, and worked on it from time to time. I love attaching edging, but you know how it is--there's a point at which you knit and knit and knit and can't believe you still have so much edge left. It languished. Finally, the last two days of my visit to Mom's house, I decided that I really needed to finish it, and began to knit furiously, mostly after dinner while watching Raiders of the Lost Ark. (We watched it twice. I felt I had to see it again because I'm supposed to be becoming an archaeologist. It was very useful. Resolution for the next year: learn to use a whip.) I knit and knit and knit and about the time I got halfway through the third side, I began to get a nervous feeling about the size of the remaining ball of yarn. I turned the third corner and was on the home stretch and was about evenly divided as to whether I'd have enough yarn to finish or not. Finally, I ran out in the middle of the final side. *sigh*. This project just does not want to be finished. Possible to get more yarn? Unlikely. Probably I'll finish it with something in a plain color and it will be a reminder to me to avoid hubris in the matter of yarn estimation. No pictures of this sad shawl example yet, as I mailed it back from the midwest. (or my Mom did--thanks Mom).

Returning to the first subject--am I the only one who hates to fly? I abhor it. I do it, and I've learned to deal with it, but I hate it. I mean I hate the actual flying part, the being in the sky, as well as taking off and coming down, and I hate all the rigamarole around it like undressing and having to remember what can't be carried on and standing in line and weather delays and the media hype that doesn't improve anyone's peace of mind. The day I left was the day people were arrested in England with alleged plans to blow up flights over the Atlantic. (yep, that was a treat, traveling on that day.) I came back the day a flight crashed in Kentucky (I flew out of Ohio. A little too close to home.) Really, does it ever seem to you that flying is just tempting fate? The more often you fly, the more likely you are to be in one of those situations that nightmares are made of. And did I mention that both my bags got lost on the last flight? Things seem to get worse and worse. This year I truly feel that if I never had to fly again, I could be ok with that. In fact, I'm thinking with a world fuel crisis looming it might be time to learn how to keep horses. Yet another reason to learn how to wield that whip.

Comments

[Nina]

Horses are better than cars. If you get sleepy on the way home, the horse can find it.

[June]

Sorry you had such terrible travel experiences! I'm not crazy about flying, but I do appreciate the time it (usually) saves. I'd rather spend my limited vacation time on vacation instead of getting there and back.