Are We There Yet?

A big rain and wind storm is about to start here in the Northeast. It will make loading the trailer tonight interesting, but not too much we can do about the weather. I decided to sew one last Bundaflicka Bag together last night. Oh, it's gorgeous and if I had a camera I would gladly take a picture to post. Maybe I can talk Kim into bringing a camera so I can capture it before some lucky person buys it. I found the fabric in my New Jersey stash from long ago and gasped when I saw it. But I'll stop here since I can't show it. Suffice it to say the bag is purple, dark blue and sage green, with stylized human figures a foot high. There were a million things I should have done last night, but I can sew sitting down and that had something to do with it, to be sure. Matt said he can't wait until this show is over. There is fabric, soap and "stuff" everywhere. Something has to give. I always put out the evening's "hot meal" but washing up after is tough these last few days. Matt is doing a "Mobile Home Training" at his center in Syracuse, teaching the county crews how to keep poor and disabled people warm in their tin cans. I can say that because I lived in a tin can for a year. He loves his job so much it's disgusting but it takes a lot out of him. I asked him if he tells the story of his wife's hair freezing to the wall of the little trailer, and the thousand dollar electric bill trying to do what the seven dogs couldn't? Yikes, those were the days. Let's not go there. I'm sleeping in my cozy F150 this weekend. I'm fine until I have to get out of my cocoon, which requires leaning far over the seat to reach the handle. Have to rig something up. I've decided to take the Thruway, a half hour out of my way and longer, instead of travelling over the Catskills with all the twists and turns. That way if I break down Kim and Darryl will find me when they come along. I've heard Rhinebeck referred to as the "High Holy Days" of the fiber world. It's a lovely, magical show with everyone wearing their wooly creations that would kill you in Maryland in May. Time to stop worrying and get excited.