We managed to return home safely, so now the recovery begins.
Most people that go on a medical trip use the word "recovery" to
refer to the time it will take to get their personal selves back into the grind
of daily living, or the process of allowing the body to heal from whatever
thing it was that you went on the medical trip for in the first place.
Recovery for Aunt Chrissy, though, means time to get the heck away from her
idiot sister and all of the crazypants stupid incompetent nut ball crap that I do in the course of a day.
I did all of the driving, which was a good idea when you consider the fact
that I am a freakishly freaky control freak and do not "do" passenger
very well. I especially don't "do" passenger very well in Aunt
Chrissy's fancypants sports car that she drives while wearing her fancypants
glasses that make her look like somebody famous, but you just can't figure out
(That actually happened to her, by the way. More on that later.)
So I drove and drove and drove the fancypants sports car and somehow avoided
colliding with anything, despite the fact that I kept forgetting that I was
driving and was looking around at all of the pretty buildings and whatnot
Aunt Chrissy's list of stupid crap that I did while on this trip would be
eighteen pages long, but the only thing that I will really own and confess is paying $57 for four bottles of water.
What can I say? I was thirsty and figured that the nice people from
room service could bring us a few bottles of water to stick in the little
fridge, but when it came time to sign the bill, I didn't realize that there was
already a gratuity and service charge on there. So I did math in my head
and the waiter walked away wondering why the large sweaty woman from Indiana
wearing her polar fleece pajama bottoms was giving him a $50 tip for $7 worth of
I'm pretty sure that it will be a while before we stop talking about that
I really would like to thank you for the shop recommendations. They
were positively spot on, kids, and we had the opportunity to visit two of them.
After we checked into the hotel, we ventured out for a short trip to The
Crafty Ewe. Holey Schmoley, what a fun time we had there! The shop
was lovely and very well-stocked with everything a stitcher could want in way
of cross stitch and other supplies, thus we left there with a
nice big fat bag stuffed with new treasures. The shop owner, Carol,
talked to Aunt Chrissy about the Clinic, and I'm not sure if she realized at
the time how much that impacted us. We were both very nervous about
things, so Carol's calm and positive and reassuring advice were just the ticket
for a great night's sleep. What a lovely gift that was. I cannot wait to go back, especially since the bakery next door looked like a place that I could spend some very serious time in after getting my stitchy groove on with the ewes and all of their craftiness.
The plan for Thursday was going to be that I would end up going solo to Wool
and Willow, but
as it turns out, Aunt Chrissy was able to join me. This time, the drive
was even shorter, and we were treated to some of the most beautiful
scenery....street after street of gorgeous homes and tree-lined boulevards.
(This was where I had to remember that I was driving, and I did so right after
Aunt Chrissy hollered at me for about ten minutes for not knowing how to turn
left through an intersection that was bigger than Lima, Ohio.)
(I'm not kidding.....there had to be at least ninety seven lanes of traffic
converging, and when you consider that I was pointing and ooing and aahing and
everybody in the ninety seven lanes was honking at me and shaking their fists
at the stupid Hoosier in the fancypants sports car that doesn't know how to
drive, I think it all turned out rather nicely, thank you very much.)
So we parked and started to approach the front door and I went into a
full-on panic attack. What if there was a dress code? What if I
made an ass of myself and knocked something to the floor? What if I
couldn't get my words to come out right and Aunt Chrissy had to smack me on the
back of my head to re-boot my brain? Needless to say, by the time we had
made it through the door I was in a flop sweat and couldn't stop chattering
like a circus monkey.
I don't know how long we were at Wool and Willow, but I know that at one point Aunt
Chrissy had to point out that we couldn't (much to my sadness) spend the night
there. I was all set to tuck in with a pillow and blanket and make a real
bash of it, but alas, I was sans toothbrush and I'm not sure the next day
customers would have welcomed the sight of a portly, snoring, sweaty, and
jabbering spinster under their big stitching table.
We were honored to meet The Lunch Bunch...a group of ladies that gathers for
stitching every Thursday, and has been doing so for many many years. What
a group! I wish I could tell you how in awe I was of every single one of
them, but suffice it to say, I left there truly humbled that my stitchy
universe has just expanded to now include them as "stitchy friends".
So thank you, Crafty Ewe and Wool and Willow!
You made a very difficult trip positively perfect in every way. (We do
promise, however, to give you ample warning the next time we come for a visit,
and we'll hit the Sam's Club for a vat of Tylenol to help ease the pain that is
The Rich Sisters.)
I won't bore you with all of the stash acquisition that happened over there
but will instead show you the progress I've made on a new painted
canvas. I have been itching to do a little more needlepoint, so this fit the
bill perfectly. The designer is Rishfeld designs, and I'm stitching it
entirely in Vineyard silks. Thanks to the inspiration of The Lunch Bunch and the help of the fabulous, amazing, gorgeous, and talented staff of the shop itself, I am going to do this
predominately in tent/continental stitch. I had to, though, get a little jiggy with that red background.
Stewey and Bosco send their love, and thank you for your concern that they were left to their own devices. Both boys loved their time at Chez Magrane, but we can't get any more than that out of them since Bosco keeps saying "Sorry, Aunt CJ...what happens at Magrane stays at Magrane!" (I'm Aunt CJ, by the way. Just like Aunt Chrissy is Aunt Chrissy to Stewey. Confused yet?)
Happy, happy Monday to you and yours! I'm off to find a patch of sunshine and a few lengths of that gorgeous Vineyard Silk to play with!