I encountered some serious difficulties with the promised wireless internet while away from the big city. At two of the three places I stayed I couldn't connect (despite having all the necessary information). While I knew that I could have found the owners to help me, I decided to be internet free. Not connecting meant that I didn't need to encounter a friendly, sweet, but entirely too chatty inn owner when I was ready to call it a day. Get it?
For most of last week it was me, a PT Cruiser (A rental, and it wasn't my choice. But you wait 45 minutes in line at the Syracuse Airport--Alamo Car Rental, please hire an assistant for poor Paul--and then see if you want to get back in the same line) and NPR.
I was Upstate. Way, way Upstate. And I don't mean Westchester. So far Upstate that I actually pulled in the CBC for a time (hey, that CBC 2, not bad stuff). I drove through lots of teeny towns and past many a corn field and all the time I'm thinking one thing.
Where do these people buy yarn?
On a two-hour stopover in Canton (home of fellow former Knitsmith Emily) I had my answer.
Now this was all that I could see of the shop, as it was closed. And as I thought that peering into the window might bring by the local police ("All units, we have a 18-11 in progress on Main Street.") I stayed on the sidewalk.
(and just in case you, like me, had no idea what linsey woolsey is, read this.)
Tomorrow: actually knitting progress (my own!)