I slept in a room that cost more than I have ever spent for lodging in my life. And it was wonderful. The bed was like a warm hug, and the commode is just the right height, and there's a gym downstairs. The desk is too high for its chair, but there's an easy chair in the corner with a reading lamp behind it! I caught nearly six full hours of sleep. And there's WIFI. (Humor me. I have a better connection here than I do at home.)
Tonight I will share this room with three other people whom I love dearly. But for now I am savoring the solitude. I was so tired when I hit the sack that I didn't complete even one row of knitting, and there aren't that many stitches on my needles.
Speaking of which, l lost a 4" DP yesterday, probably in the auditorium at the Bitties' school. It made for some creative finagling on the increases for this fingerless glove. I'm nearly done. I'll be able to give Sarah a finished pair when I'm back home.
I got Knit Swirl blocked on the bed before leaving for Firstborn's yesterday. I'm hoping it (and the bed) will be dry when I get home tomorrow night.
I brought two other small projects to work on: the miniature Christmas stocking for Steadfast, which should be perfect church knitting for tomorrow, and Temperance's sweater, which is waiting for me to design the sleeves.
The forecast is 100% chance of rain, so as of last night we had cancelled our plans to climb Enchanted Rock. I'm not sure what we will do instead, but Firstborn assured me there's a Plan B.
We left this town 21 years ago with our tails between our legs. Jobless. Momentarily homeless. It feels so good to sit here in this room with 20 years of gradual but sustained progress under my belt.
I drove past the place where we lived, but it was so late, and the town was so dark, that I couldn't see it. I want to get a picture of it before we leave tomorrow. We made some happy memories in that house. It was also the place of my greatest personal fear. But that's a story for another time.
The kids are an hour away, and I desperately need a shower, notwithstanding the soaking I got last night from the rain that blew in sideways under the tarp.
By the time I got in Firstborn's car to come here, I was cold and weary and tired almost to the point of tears. And then I drove an unfamiliar car on dark, unfamiliar roads, the last 30 miles behind someone who couldn't maintain a consistent speed but whose tail lights serve as an erratic beacon to keep me awake and in my own lane. I hope that I didn't frustrate him as much as he frustrated me.
Last night's dinner was perfect. I didn't stay for the Dutch oven cobbler, but the burger baked with onions, potatoes, and carrots was delicious. I brought the Greek yogurt and strawberries I bought in Burnet, but I left the Nutella back at camp. So my midnight snack with my Metformin was hummus and crackers. I need to eat breakfast, and I need to do it soon. But I need a shower more.
I don't ever want to go camping again, even for five or six hours. I'm grateful for the beauties of this earth. And I would have made a lousy pioneer.