Tales from Seattle

We're back! Back from Seattle. We took off bright and early Saturday morning and just got back home. It was a blast and very needed here int the Butler house.

I took a small sampler project with me to work on when we were done for the day, but honestly, by the time we were done for the day, all I wanted to do was lay down and try to convince Joe that he should rub my feet (it only worked once).

Good God, we walked almost everywhere! I did actually put my very tired and sore foot down on Monday and suggested we take a cab to the aquarium. The cab ride saved my feet, but it was also like some amusement park terror ride that made me question my very existence and my choice to eat breakfast.

Back tomorrow with tales of stitching progress and what apparently is referred to as a road in Seattle, but should be called the "path to hell with no freaking exits", the viaduct.

Must. Leave. Town.

I can't stand it anymore. I need to get out of town, maybe go to Seattle.

I'm going stir crazy.

 I must leave town or I'm going to start repainting and redecorating, and nobody wants that.

That would be bad.

You want to drive?

Once, way back in the beginning part of wonderful husband and my courtship, after much bitching and moaning about his driving, he said off-handedly, "If you don't like the way I drive then you do it". And so it has been since that fateful day. I drive. I drive everwhere, including the 12 day Oregon Coast vacation and the 10 day Alberta, Canada vacation (there was much cursing when we hit Edmonton, I'm ashamed to say it–Boybat was in the car at the time–I think that I managed to form whole sentences using nothing but the f-word–Hey, you hit Edmonton at rush hour with no map and two of what seemed like three of the bridges across the river closed). But with a few exceptions, all has been well with this transportation arrangement.

So I chose today to throw a wrench in it.

I gave wonderful husband the keys to the SUV and let him drive us to Wenatchee to pick up Boybat from Nana and Papas home. OK, there were a few ulterior motives here. One, I'm angling for a new car..."Oh, please drive my car and see how much I really need a new one"–picture me doing some Scarlett O'Hara, hand to the brow, drama thing. The other motive is that I wanted to stitch. I was stuck on a part of this pattern that I just didn't want to do. I figure if I'm stuck in the car with nothing else to do for 7 hours, I'll work my way through it and maybe even get through a couple more bands of the sampler.

Jeeze Louise, I WAS WRONG about that equation. I did make it through the difficult part of the pattern but only just. I was putting the finishing touches on it by the time we hit Spokane on our way back home. I can only imagine you sitting there and saying to yourselves..."Good Lord, was she stitching with her eyes closed?" Well, no...but my car tends to bump and shake occasionally and that sure slowed me down.

My new car is going to have a suspension that would rival that mattress on that commercial with the glass of water on one side while the lady is jumping up and down on the other side. I am going to stitch up a storm on car trips!

Unless wonderful husband's driving really pisses me off again and it takes another 11 years 'til I hand over the keys.