MarQ1

J & I left work early Friday and drove out to Doylestown PA for the opening of an exhibit, Irving Berlin’s Hollywood at the Michener Museum. Our friend David curated it and J designed it and for some unknown reason I have a credit in the program (as J’s driver?). We arrived later than we wanted—no hor d’ouvres remained—and the place was packed. It was a nice show. [I’m not a good reviewer.]

The Holland Tunnel

For a while it looked like we might not make it. The traffic approaching the Holland Tunnel was backed up almost to Chambers St. and filled with angry, pushy, aggressive drivers. Me, I was just annoyed¹. It took over an hour to get into the tunnel. About thirty minutes into the crawl toward Canal St., a white pickup truck tried to cut in front of the blue pickup truck in front of us. The drivers argued. They spit into each other’s cabs. They threw things into each other’s cabs. A passenger in the white truck crawled halfway out the drivers window and began beating on the blue truck with what might have been a sharp object. The driver of the white truck eventually got out and took pictures of the other license plate with his cell phone and called someone. Who? I’m sure it wasn’t 911. I kept thinking, If they shoot each other, we’ll never get through the tunnel. Both trucks, btw, had Jersey plates.

Yarn

Since J and David wanted to see the exhibit again, without the throngs, Saturday morning and we were in Doylestown, I went instead to Forever Yarn again. The owner remembered me from the weekend Stephanie spoke at the bookstore and thanked me for the mention. I bought yarn, of course.

I took some chances here: these are a little more frou frou than my usual purchases. Clockwise, from the top, 1) Blue Heron Rayon/Metallic in Celadon (green again), just because I liked it; 2) Tilli Thomas—I’m embarrassed to type this—Disco Lights in Parchment, because I think it would make a nice, light scarf for a gift; 3) Wool in the Woods Cameo (rayon) in Rosebud, for a scarf for a friend who is sensitive to wool and likes purple; and 4) Debbie Bliss cashmerino astrakhan, because it was slightly cheaper than I get it locally and I want to try it.

Photos

On the way back to NYC Saturday afternoon, we stopped at Gallery 31 North to see a show of photos, Persistence, by our friend Susan had with another artist. Her images are clean and thoughful. The one shown on the gallery site was one of my favorites. I can’t say I particularly liked the other artist’s work.

More Sock

While in Bucks County, I turned the heel of the second railway stitch sock. When we return to our apartment, I frogged it back. Fatal flaw. I have reknit it and am passed the gusset.

¹ If J drove, I could have been knitting.

Mine’s the one on the left.
Just as well. The city just plowed all of the snow from the bus stop into spot in front of our driveway. Good thing I don’t drive to work.
This was from about 1pm this afternoon. It was still snowing two hours later.
The trudge to work should be fun tomorrow. Do I take extra pants, or walk with garbage bags covering my legs?

Someone found my blog searching Google for “rodent engine jetta”. Why would someone look for that? Is this a common Jetta problem? Does someone want to replace the Turbo Drive with a Squirrel Drive?

So I picked up the Jetta today. The fact that it no longer had a rodent nest and that I still had the gas that was in the tank and that the rear brakes now feel a bit more reliable didn’t quite make up for the cost and the pound or so of construction dirt liberally dusted all over the car. I love having the car washed when it’s freezing out.

In fairness, when I complained they offered a free car wash, but I know where that carwash is: on the West Side Highway along the Lincoln Tunnel approach. It was rush hour and I don’t have stupid written on my forehead just yet.
And tomorrow’s dental appt, which I entered in my PDA in the dentist’s office on the day I made the appt, has mysteriously been rescheduled to 4:30 from 5:15. Odd that. Either the 4:30 cancelled or I should have something to knit for the extra 45 minutes I’ll be waiting.

I took the Jetta in for service yesterday because the check engine light came on last July. I got a v-mail from the service center about midday. I called back and Dennis(?) told me that they’d found out what the problem was: a rat had made a nest on top of the gas tank and had chewed through the vent lines that recycle the vapors in the tank. So gross. It was probably a squirrel rather than a rat (I hope), but still oh so gross. $700 worth of gross. They had to remove the gas tank and replace the hoses.

I assume that the tank will be empty when I get the car back.

I should probably go out and start the car occasionally. I spent more time on my bike this summer than in the car.
Speaking of Rodentia, the heavy snow predicted was a wash, just enough to highlight the squirrel tracks in our parking lot.
It’s not my week. First there’s the rodents. Next, apparently when the alarm went off this morning I got up, shut it off and went back to bed without ever actually gaining consciousness. I have no memory of it. That would not have been a big deal if I hadn’t had an 8:30 meeting in Manhattan. Which was actually changed to a 8:00 meeting, but the meeting host never bothered to change the electronic invite, so instead of being three minutes late I was thirty-three minutes late. Live by the PDA, die by the PDA.

Let’s see what horrors Wednesday, Thursday & Friday can bring. Snow on Friday maybe?

Except for a two-hour conference call tomorrow, in return for which I will leave work very early one day soon, I am so on vacation. I’ve got a massage scheduled in the morning, some minor shopping, some laundry, some casual ironing, some packing (actually all of it, but I’m just throwing it into the car in an organized manner), and then I pick J up at work and we’re out of here. Thanks to the car cover, I don’t even have to have the car washed.

I have probably wanted this vacation more, but I don’t think so. Or at least I can’t remember having done so. No work.
We go to P-town (Provincetown, Mass.) every summer, fall and, lately, New Year’s, but I love it the same or more every time. I can relax there. I’m not an employee there. I don’t have to pretend I tolerate children and/or straight guys (they tend to overlap). I can be my version of flamboyant (think banker/computer geek flamboyant), which usually means buying expensive shirts. I can go naked on the beach.

I love being naked on the beach (only in summer; fall and winter are not ideal). The sun (under my 15-30 SPF) is fab. It’s freeing. Most guys don’t get around to noticing my love handles.

Technically it’s illegal, but all you have to do is listen for the cry “Ranger”–it moves in a wave down the beach–and slip a bathing suit on. Twenty minutes later an actual Park Ranger might actually mosey on by. He/she might really give you a ticket if she/he sees your personals, but if it takes you that long to get them on, you drank too much last night. If you want to go natural, guys, btw, stick to the far left end of the beach.
Where we stay: The Grandview Inn, always. Tom & Mike, who run the place have been good friends since they bought the place. They’re Chicago boys and really welcoming. They get a good mix of guests, though we seem to run into the same ones every year or so. The two decks have superb views: there’s the harbor and the guys headed up to the gym at the top of the hill.
Where we eat: Chester’s - great food and service. Do the whole cocktails/appetizers/main course/dessert/coffee/port thing; it’s worth it. Jackson’s - great food and service, more casual. Lorraine’s - more than passable Mexican and good margaritas, the only good margaritas in town. The service can be touchy, though. Edwige at Night - J adores the three milk cake, and Rocco, one of the owners, is adorable (can’t be said of Lorraine’s, sadly). The food’s good too. Edwige for lunch is actually a different restaurant in the same location and is a good brunch spot, with good Bloody Marys, which we all know can be oh so important on a Sunday morn. Fanizzi’s (SP?), all the way down in the other end of the town, practically Boston on foot, has a good affordable burger and other goodies and bigger Sunday brunch than I could possibly eat.
I decided what knitting to take. I’m working on Backyard Leaves from ScarfStyle, but in the Debbie Bliss cashmerino olive I have leftover from the scarf I made for my niece and which apparently never arrived. It could be wider, but I love the pattern. I’m actually getting the hang of reading a chart. I’m also taking the Lorna’s Laces Shepherd’s Sock in Camouflage to work on while on the deck waiting for the rest of the world to wake up. I still get up at 6 while on vacation, which is why I usually make it through a dozen books in a nine-day vacation. I’ll take some lace-weight too to practice on.

Here’s Backyard Leaves:

The pic’s a bit fuzzy. The camera’s my new toy, a Nikon Coolpix 5600, and I haven’t yet got the hang of it.

No knitting on the beach, though. Sweat, sand and sunscreen probably aren’t amenable to yarn.
Later. I might be on again before we leave, but otherwise, back a week from Monday.

Except to the psychopaths who insist on feeding the pigeons.

Is this ugly or what?

This color is remarkably accurate.

There’s nothing quite like driving through SoHo with a bird-sh!t-covered Jetta, let me tell you. If I have to replace this cover every six months, it will still be cheaper than having the car detailed every six months; and definitely cheaper than the embarrassment when I try to stretch that out to a year.

So bright, it might even frighten those berry-seed-laden flying cr@p machines away. One can only hope.