I'm back.

I will talk about the break, the things I did on it, photos of finished projects, etc., later on. Because when one has - to put it politely - a challenging time getting back from a trip, that tends to overshadow the rest of the memories of the trip.

I do not know how much it was on the news - not having seen news since about 2 pm on Thursday - about the problems the cold weather and snow caused for Amtrak. (I know it caused problems for flying; it probably would have been worse had I been flying.)

Everything seemed fine (save for a 45 minute or so delay, caused by frozen switches north of us) when I got on in my parents' town. Everything WAS fine until shortly before crossing the Mississippi, when there was a crunch, the train stopped, and the power went out.

Turns out there was "debris on the tracks" that we hit - probably branches; we were going through a wooded area. It damaged an air hose, we were told, it would be a few minutes - and then everything was fine again.

Well, until St. Louis. As we were getting close to the station, the train shook a bit, and stopped. As I had already eaten, had my bed made up, and was reading, I didn't think much of it, and went on reading.

And we sat. And sat and sat. I began to get a bit concerned - was the engine broken? Were they deciding that the switches were too dangerous to proceed?

I contemplated putting on my pajamas and trying to sleep (by now it was about 9), with the thought that if something was VERY wrong, and we were (God forbid) going to be pulled off and stuck on buses (as happened in March a few years back, when there was flooding), I would be in a bit of difficulty. (That said, my pajamas are about as modest as the street clothes a lot of people wear - it was a pair of knit long pants from Old Navy and a long-sleeve OBI t-shirt). So I went ahead, figuring, "If the switches are too frozen, they'll probably just keep us here overnight, keep refueling as needed to keep the heat on."

Um, wrong decision.

I had just fallen asleep when the conductor and the train attendant knocked on my door. The sleeper car I was in needed to be taken off, we would need to go to the diner car and wait, then we'd be told what to do. I commented that I had a suitcase below - in addition to the overnight bag, coat, and purse in my compartment. The train attendant was nice enough to get it (or maybe, in retrospect, he was required to, given what had happened).

It turned out the engine and the car I was in had derailed. Now, "derailed" is a scary word - I always picture train cars off on their sides - but there are different degrees of "derailed" ranging from "looks like Gomez Addams had some fun this afternoon" to "barely noticeable but not really safe to proceed." The "derailment" I experienced was in the second category.

At first, we got no explanation - and tired, half-awake people who have been rousted from a compartment they paid well for are generally not happy people. But after hearing it was a derailment later, I guess we were actually quite lucky.

Though - and I suppose this is a function of Amtrak being a largish bureaucracy - it was frustrating trying to get helped. And frustrating for the conductor who was trying to help us. First off - he thought there were enough open compartments on the remaining sleeper car to house us (AKA, "the best of all possible worlds.") But no, one had been sold at the last minute, and crew were in the others (That said : crew probably need a compartment more than passengers do; if you are working 18 hour shifts feeding people in a dining car you need to get away from the crush of humanity).

Then, he said, "Well, we have an empty coach that was to come off on the back. I will see if we can leave it on; if so, I will put you in there, at least it will be more quiet and you will have more room. (There were, IIRC, six of us "displaced persons.")

So he called around - it seemed to take forever to go up the chain of command - and I took a moment to quickly call my mom, even though it was near midnight, because my dad is an inveterate 24-hour-news-channel watcher, and I imagined that "Amtrak train derails in St. Louis!" could be a headline, and that would not be good.

(She hadn't heard, but hadn't gone to bed yet, so no harm, no foul.)

Finally, the conductor moved us - helping me drag my heavy suitcase the last bit of the way. The empty coach was not ideal (I am at least 10" too tall to comfortably stretch out across two seats, and there is always a hard spot in them that winds up somewhere around the small of my back). But I settled in and tried to sleep.

I think I had slept for about an hour when the conductor came back. Amtrak had called again, they decided the empty coach had to come off. I don't know if he was embarrassed about the situation or just tired out, but he wasn't as helpful this time. First of all, I would have liked to hear an "I'm sorry we're making you move again" but didn't get that. And then we were not offered help to move all our luggage - just a "you need to have all your stuff out in 10 minutes." And then, we were handed seat-check slips (a piece of paper with the abbreviation for our destination) and told which coach to go into - no help with finding a seat (normally, on crowded trains, conductors do this, at least when you first get on).

Of course, it was like 2 am at that point, so in "my" coach, every empty single seat had someone sprawled across it. I didn't relish waking someone up and asking them to shove over so I could sit, and it was dark enough it was hard to see which seats had just one check (meaning one person) and which had two.

I sat down on the floor - my head hurt, I was tired beyond tired, I was distressed at trekking all over the train in my pajamas (and no brassiere on underneath; and yes, that matters to me).

That's when things began to turn around, I guess. A young mother saw me, and quietly said, "We put our kids in an empty pair of seats so my husband and I could each have more room; let me move them and you can have that pair of seats."

So she gathered them up - they didn't even wake - and moved them back next to her and next to her husband. I thanked her as profusely as I could without waking anyone up and flopped in the seat.

The only really bad thing, there was a guy who snored about as loud as a chain saw on full blast. And there were people talking fairly loudly. I know most snorers can't help it but I do admit whimpering to myself a bit about being "forsaken" and miserable.

I think I may have slept for two more hours or so, despite all that. I woke around six, waited until seven (I didn't want to wake anyone, even if they kept me awake the night before), quietly went to the bathroom and put back on the necessary underpinnings to feel "decent" in the dining car, and went to get breakfast. (At least they let the former-sleeping-car passengers still get their meals comped).

After breakfast, I changed back into my street clothes and read for interminable hours. I saw parts of Arkansas I normally never see on the trip. I got lunch (I don't recommend their brisket sandwich) and read for many more hours.

(One book I was reading - after finishing "The Whiskey Rebels" - was "Sisterhood of Spies," which is about OSS operations - Julia Child (before she married Paul Child) was involved, as was Marlene Dietrich (well, tangentially, but still). And it occurred to me that I would make a poor spy; I do not deal well with discomfort of even the relatively minor sort I was experiencing.)

Finally we pulled in at Mineola around 7 - some 9 1/2 hours after we "should" have. I was so tired at that point that even if I had wanted to drive the 2 1/2 hours home, I don't think it would have been safe for me to (let alone the thought of facing grocery shopping at 9 pm or so). I asked the nice lady who volunteers at the train station two favors, which she willingly agreed to:

1. That she would stay until it was sure my car would start (It's been unnaturally cold here). The other good thing - her grown son was with her, and I think I heard him mention that he had jumper cables in his truck, so that would have taken care of things had it been necessary)

2. If I could get the name and directions of some kind of motel to stay in. (Again, her son helped - he went over and gave me a brochure for the new Best Western that had opened up in town. I called them just to be sure they had a room - of course they did, but given how the earlier part of the trip went, I figured it was not good to trust that everything would fall into place).

My car started up right away, her son helped me stow my luggage, and I got to the motel and checked in. (I also drove out to a McDonald's and got one of those yogurt things - they call it 'fruit and yogurt' but this time of year it was more like 'jam and yogurt' - and some apple slices and a little thing of milk and a cookie, because I had not had dinner).

And you know, when I've had a bad experience, I become almost irrationally grateful for any good thing that happens. I thanked the nice lady at the Amtrak station and her son profusely for their help, I thanked the lady at the motel desk for having a room available and for helping me (and even better; she gave me a room very close to one of the doors, so it was easy to haul my suitcase in). I was also very thankful to the teenager at the McDonald's who sold me my food.

And I got back to my room and ate my yogurt and cookie, and called my folks to let them know I was safely in a motel room, and watched a bit of the Weather Channel, and tried to call and arrange for the refund for the cost of my sleeping compartment (but by then, the refunds department at Amtrak had closed; I will call back Monday).

And when I finally went to bed I thought about how the place I was in now had so many of the things I didn't have the night before but wanted - it was dark, it was quiet, I was all by myself, I could stretch out, it was warm enough. And that the hotel couldn't derail. (I suppose it could have suffered an earthquake, but I don't think Mineola is near to any faults).

I will say that the one thing that had saved my sanity on the train (well, other than having books to escape into) was that I had a dark eyeshade (one of those "sleep masks") and a set of ear plugs to wear. Even with the ear plugs the talking and snoring still bugged me, but not as much as it would have without them. I'm considering buying a sleep mask and set of ear plugs to keep in each of my purses - whatever purse I am using at the moment being part of my 'go bag' in case there's some major evacuation-requiring emergency. Because I can see a Red Cross shelter situation being a lot more tolerable if you could cut down on the noise with ear plugs.

But anyway.

Another nice thing about the motel was that they had one of those little hair dryers (you know the kind, they are like a regular compact hair dryer but are attached to the wall so people won't steal them) and a sample size bottle of conditioning shampoo. So, after I ate my yogurt and cookie, I took a long hot shower and washed my hair (another thing I desired greatly after getting off the train, but was prepared not to be too disappointed if washing my hair wasn't possible). I put on my white button-front shirt (it is a unisex style and so is almost long enough on me to serve as a sleep shirt) because I really didn't want to put the grubby "pajamas" I had worn on my Flying Dutchman trek through the train. After drying my hair, I went to bed, slept pretty solidly for nine hours. The next morning, I got the free breakfast the hotel offered, loaded up the car, and checked out.

I have to say that I think that hotel room was the best - and likely the wisest - $90 I have spent in a while. Not only was I better rested and therefore MUCH safer to drive, but I was in a much better mood (one thing I have learned is that anything I experience that is upsetting or unpleasant, it seems much less so after a decent night's sleep). And it was daylight - another good thing, as I saw deer running across the road in a couple of the wooded areas I passed through, and it's possible if they had been doing that last night in the dark, I might not have seen them in time.

So I drove to Sherman, went and spent a crazy amount of money on groceries at the Kroger (I had no perishables at home, of course, but also I wanted to stock up on canned goods just in case of more bad weather). I worried a bit the whole way back about the pipes in my house - I live in an old house, it's poorly insulated in places, and though I left the heat on at 65*, you never know for sure.

I did get to Durant just before 11, got in as nearly the LAST person in line before they closed the post office, picked up my mail. (There was so much - I think there's a surprise Christmas present in there - that they gave me one of their boxes to carry it in and just asked me to bring it back at some point).

And I got home. And the pipes were fine. My mailbox, however, was on the ground - either the pipe holding it up just had rusted to the point where it fell over in the wind, or someone hit the pipe with their car - but I think I can temporarily fix that by getting a piece of PVC pipe just slightly larger than the metal pipe and using that as a "splint" on the pipe until I can figure out what I want to do as a replacement mailbox foundation.

So now, I have to eat (soup is heating on the stove), practice piano, write a Sunday school lesson, and put stuff away. But wow, am I glad to be home and off that train, and done with traveling for a while.

I will say that Best Western in Mineola was pretty nice - and not that terribly expensive (and I might have been able to dicker for a better room price if I had felt like it), that I am thinking at some point I should do a short East Texas road trip and make that my place to stay - I could see getting a room there for two nights, driving down the first day and spending it in and around Mineola (there are a lot of natural areas in East Texas, and also lots of good antiquing, and Mineola is supposed to have a really excellent restaurant that features "giant bunnies" in the outdoor garden area...) and then stay over at the hotel, and then the next day go over to Longview, and then on my way home on the third day, stop at Quitman or Lindale (Quitman is supposed to have a large quilt shop, and Lindale has a weaving shop that also sells a lot of natural-fiber yarn). If nothing else, I could do it as my shopping pilgrimage next fall over mid-fall break. Or maybe in May, after classes let out for the summer.

I'm back.

Break was mostly good, except my father caught a nasty respiratory bug (which hopefully I managed to avoid). He's now on antibiotics (he has to be extra careful because of the fake knee; apparently microbes can, in rare cases, travel to the replacement joint and wreck it) and Prednisone. (Not fun. I remember being put on a brief course of the stuff to keep me from coughing myself to pieces during an attack of asthmatic bronchitis. I don't think I slept for a week and my appetite and attitude were rather like a bear preparing for hibernation). He also had to scrap a trip to the AAG meetings in Las Vegas (he had been invited to give a paper, but there's no way he could fly with the respiratory bug he has).

Also, coming back, the train apparently hit a deer somewhere north of where I was to get on. I knew that deer could wreak havoc on a car (one of my colleagues totaled a university minivan when he could not avoid hitting a small deer), but it can also apparently mess up a diesel engine. The train had electrical problems, which made it very late (and made dinner even later). But thank goodness, they managed to fix it (I had visions of a repeat of last year's bus fiasco, but I figured when we pulled into St. Louis and I saw no buses waiting, I was safe).

I will say the whole episode makes me wonder, sadly, if the "special snowflakes" (as some call them) are starting to take over the world. An example:

When I got on the train, my car attendant handed me my dinner reservation. "It says 6 pm," he said, "But because of the electrical problems it's gonna be a lot later than that. They'll call the time, but they'll probably call '6 pm reservations' around 7 or later." [it was actually 8:30, but no biggie]

I thanked him for the info and sat down with my book. During the time I was waiting, I heard no fewer than four rather exasperated announcements on the part of the dining car staff asking people to please WAIT until their time was called, and explaining the reason for the lateness and promising that they would call people when it became possible. (And no, this was not after a bunch of people had got on - at least three of those announcements took place between two stations).

Seriously, people, it is NOT THAT HARD.

They also had to keep announcing:

"Don't flush trash down the toilets"
"If we find you smoking, you WILL be put off the train." (This is on a train with prominent no-smoking signs, and it says right on the schedule that it is an all-no-smoking train)
"Wear your shoes to protect your feet when you're walking around the train." (Now, I ask you. I understand barefooting is a lifestyle choice, and heck, I like to go barefoot at home or even outdoors (provided I'm in an area free of fire ants or ground-nesting wasps). But on a nasty mucky train car, where all kinds of people - farmers in work boots, people who've trotted the dirty city streets, little kids who have accidents - have left all kinds of indescribable MUNG on the floor...I'd probably be a lot less suffering-fools-lightly and would say something like, "The floor in these cars is full of germs and other slop. If you choose to walk barefoot even knowing this fact, we are completely absolved from any responsibility if you contract a HORRIBLE PARASITIC FOOT DISEASE." Of course, they probably AREN'T absolved, and there's the problem, some idiot will walk into the bathroom barefoot and step in something nasty and try to sue Amtrak)

So I don't know. I feel sometimes that the more I am out among people, the more I am driven to hermitage. As I said: IT IS NOT THAT HARD to understand and abide by the relatively few things they ask you to do (or not do) on the train.

Oh, and they had to remind people not to use cuss words in cell phone conversations. Because there are children "and others" who "don't need to be hearing that."

But anyway. Otherwise, it was a good trip. Despite the frustrating conditions they surely had to work under, the dining car waiters were their usual jovial selves (Or maybe they're just jovial to me because they know me and know I tip and also don't make Special Snowflake requests) and we got to our destination safely.

And I'm glad to see my bed. The beds on the train are far better than the coach seats for sleeping, but nothing beats your own bed at home.

Spring break starts today! This afternoon I drive down to Mineola to catch the train.

I really need this break. This is the time of the semester when I just start to get so tired...so much weighing on me.

I'm taking the couple of Directed Readings books I need to read with me, plus the other books in-progress. I've got Pickwick Papers (Still, but I'm nearly done) and the "first" Campion novel (and it gives no more hints to his origin or who he "really" is...I suspect he may have been a secret younger brother to the King, or perhaps a wrong-side-of-the-blanket relative..but his "real" name is never given). And I threw in my copy of the "Not So Small Life." It's something I've been thinking about lately...about the idea of a life being "small" but good.

(Part of my midlife plan to rid myself of guilt feelings about not having done the "Great Good Thing" that everyone predicted I would when I was an so-called "gifted" student in school. Life as it really is, is a hard thing to live up (or perhaps down) to, when your high school "Most Likely To.." is "discover a cure for AIDS." No, I am not ready to surf over to that French FAILlifeBLOG that Charles posted about a couple days ago, because I tend to think anyone (including myself) who has managed to avoid compromising their moral principles while at the same time being capable of keeping a roof over their head and food on the table is NOT a failure, but still...there are days I wonder what I could have done if I had only been willing to work harder and enjoy less leisure time...And those sort of maunderings are not good for one's sense of equilibrium.)

On to knitting. ("Small" life, indeed.)

I'm planning on finishing both the Little Child's Sock and the Caledonian Mists sock. I also pulled out a couple wound-off skeins of sockyarn - one of deep blues and one in a color called Kilauea (you can see it here). I love the idea of the color, that it's inspired by volcanoes (and a place I've actually been), but never knew what to do with it.

Enter the Rib Fantastic sock in the "Socks from Handpainted Yarns" book...which is designed for these "wild" colorways. (And if things go like I hope they will, it will look like streams of lava intermingled with the rock).

Still not sure on the dark blue, which is a lot more sedate. Perhaps the Herringbone socks from the same book, or Nancy Bush's "Fancy Silk Sock" (which is a lacy sort of pattern).

I've not totally decided on the "big" project, whether it's the sweater in-progress or the Bird's Nest Shawl. The sweater has the virtue of being closer to done. But the shawl has the virtue of being something I could actually wear this season if I finish it soon. I still have to decide but I don't have to leave here until 2 pm or so.

If things go as I would hope they do, this time tomorrow I will be eating breakfast a bit south of St. Louis. (If things aren't going quite as I would hope, I will be eating breakfast somewhere in Arkansas. But at least I'll be on the train and on my way)

I have my tax stuff, I have the birthday present for my dad (whose birthday is actually today, but who said that a present a day late but delivered by the giver is preferable to a mailed present on-time) as well as the next few birthdays' worth of presents (my brother's, my sister-in-law's) to take with me and pass along.

I'll be back in about a week.

It was a good day. A day that I needed. It reminded me that taking time for myself is important, and taking a big chunk of time (not some 15 minutes pencilled in here and there) is sometimes the only thing that fixes things.

(I'll post pictures of the yarn later, for those who aren't too repulsed by enhancement of an already-bloated stash. I will say that the yarn is all project-designated, so it's not like I'm randomly buying up stuff 'cos I like it...

...that's what quilt fabric is for....)

Anyway. It actually FELT like fall today, which was nice - it was cool (I actually wore a sweater vest) and overcast. Unlike some people, I'm really not depressed by gray overcast weather. It's interesting. It's atmospheric. It suits my sensitive eyes better than bright sun does.

The drive down was uneventful. I really don't mind driving long distances provided that there is not heavy traffic. I saw a few weird "oversized load" things, including some stuff that I'm not at all sure what it was (one of them looked like a giant bathysphere but it was wrapped in tarps so I really can't be sure).

I went to Barron's first. I really do wish we had one of these close to me. It's a combination bookstore (though the books do seem to be being squeezed out by other stuff, I note with some annoyance), fancy-home shop, nice restaurant, and place where you can get your Brighton fix.

(I am not sure I understand the popularity. Perhaps you have to be a Southerner to, or a native of Texas/Oklahoma. I am fairly sure Brighton was not a popular property in the upper Midwest where I used to live...it is fairly nice budget-priced jewelry (not quite costume jewelry but not quite "serious" jewelry), and shoes, and handbags. I guess I don't get it because I tend not to be much of a bag or shoe person, and most of the jewelry I like is either antique or one-off stuff that someone I know made. It's a very recognizable style. And that's fine, it just happens not to be my style.)

I picked out a couple of books (while waiting for the cafe to open) and left them at the cash register. (One of the nice things about these small shops is you can DO that; the people working there don't look at you like you're weird when you ask).

I've said before I like the restaurant there because they don't treat single diners like a pox. (And there are some restaurants - and not just upper-end ones - that do. There are a few chain places in which I will never eat again based on how I was treated on a couple exploratory visits).

Based on the server's recommendation, I got a cup of their black-bean soup. And on my own decision, the crab cakes.

The crab cakes were good, but the soup was better. It was a different recipe than I make - sort of a tomato base (I think it was pureed tomatoes and chicken broth, maybe in a 2:1 ratio) and it had, in addition to the beans, corn and fresh cilantro. Both of which were good additions. Corn is always good paired with black beans; the slight sweetness brings out the smoky savory taste of the beans. And the cilantro was surprisingly right. Normally, I'm not a huge fan of fresh cilantro; it seems that cooks that use it tend to OVERuse it and then all you taste is that sharp green off-mint taste that cilantro has. But the cook (chef, I guess you'd properly say) here hadn't used too much - he (I know it was a he; I saw him) used just the right amount.

So it's something I want to try to replicate in my own kitchen if I can.

I also had a big cup of hot spiced chai (the cup it was in is about twice the size of the mugs I usually use for tea. It was sort of an Alice in Wonderland cup, both because of the size and because it was broad and shallow. It felt almost like a little kid playing tea party. It was an oddly pleasant sensation to be drinking from such a large heavy cup).

I also got a slice of chocolate cake but left some of it because I decided I was just too full and reached a point where I wasn't really enjoying it.

Two things I got at Barron's - first, I finally found a suitable replacement for the Dopp kit/toiletries kit that was falling apart (the one I had been using was a freebee from Clinique). This one is sturdier. And it's big enough. One of the sort-of distressing things about being a woman Approaching A Certain Age is that you find you have a lot more impedimentia when you travel. For example, now I drag along two moisturizers (one for at night and one with SPF to go under the foundation by day). And I have my allergy meds and my Excedrin Migraine and some kind of antacid. And I have more cosmetics now. And some months back, I began taking a B-vitamin after having some symptoms that suggested I wasn't absorbing some of them well.* And recently, started taking Calcium with vitamin D - great big honking horse pills, twice a day. (I have pretty bad history of osteoporosis in the family, so I figured it was time)

So I need a big kit for all that - plus all the tooth stuff, plus things like bandaids and nail clippers and all the stuff that you MIGHT need and would rather not be without if you do.

(*Another thing about the B vitamins...I realize just now that I have not had one of those horrible nights where I do not sleep since I started taking them. I still have the occasional bad dream (but less often) and I sometimes wake up too early...but I don't have those nights any more (knock wood) where I lie there and can't shut my brain off. I know that the B vitamins can affect serotonin metabolism, and serotonin can affect mood and alertness....so maybe there's something to that.)

Anyway. So now I have a nice new thing (and probably - hopefully - a sturdier thing that will not need replacing soon) to carry all my junk in.

Next was the yarn shop. It is always lovely to go to a yarn shop. I have never been in one that had the fabled crabby owner or snobbish owner - the only ones I've been to have had enthusiastic owners who are interested in hearing about what you plan to make, and who will proudly show off the newest lines the shop carries.

One nice change, this year? Instead of the big paper sacks they used to use, they give you a cloth bag that is silk-screened with the name and address of the shop. (I suppose the idea is then you can bring it back and they will re-use it for your next purchase. And it's cheap advertising for them when you carry the bag around. And most knitters can use another cloth bag, as many of us store our partly-done projects in cloth bags). Maybe the bag is only if you buy a certain amount, I don't know. It would seem a bit churlish to go in there and buy a $4 reel of crochet cotton and expect one of the cloth sacks. (But I didn't do that, as you'll see in the next post).

The owners of this store are very sweet people. The lady who was there today (I think it was Frances Hughes) commented on the vest I was wearing (well, it was one I had knit) and we discussed the projects I had planned for the yarn.

And it was good. I do wish I were closer to the shop; it would be nice to get there more often than once a year.

I did also get to Michael's and replenished some of the cheap-yarn stash (so I can now do Captain Capacitor, and maybe, Resisty, except I didn't find the right blue for Resisty so I'll either have to dig in the stash or look up other resistor color combinations and see what I can put together. And yes, using the correct color combination for some kind of existing resistor is important to me.)

Again: I wish there were a Michael's closer to me. (I think the closest one is in McKinney). It has much better quality yarn than Hobby Lobby; it concentrates less on the weird hairy plasticky novelty yarn.

And I got a couple of 14" pillow forms. One will be used in a Most Amusing to Me finished-object that I will probably post in a couple of days (it just lacks a bit of sewing); the other will be used in a planned companion piece.

I also hit the Books a Million. The one in Longview is about twice as large as the one in Sherman. And I don't know how much autonomy the buyers for individual stores have, but the Longview store has a FAR better History section than the one in Sherman (that may just be a function of the size difference, though). I wound up buying four books, all history:

One on the battle of Thermopylae (I do not know why but I am fascinated by the ancient Greeks)
One on the "Pirate Wars" which is a segment of marginally-related-to-American-History-history I know next to nothing about.
One on the leper colony at Molokai
and one (a Barbara Tuchman) about the state of the world before the first World War

So: Spartans, pirates, lepers, and (I guess) robber barons.

Interesting. The only thread that connects them is that they are all parts of history that seem interesting to me but about which I don't know a lot.

(Titles and authors? I guess I should supply those in case anyone cares:
"Thermopylae: the battle that changed the world" - Paul Cartledge. "Empire of Blue Water: Captain Morgan's Great Pirate Army (and on and on...)" - Stephan Talty. "The Colony: The harrowing true story of the exiles of Molokai" - John Tayman. And "The Proud Tower: a portrait of the world before the war, 1890-1914." - Barbara Tuchman).

Okay; I see another thread that connects these: they are all titled in the format of:

Short grabby word: much longer description of what the book is actually about. (The "Pirate Wars" one almost slips into self-parody with the length of its title.)

Of course, I'm currently reading "Euclid in the Rainforest" (about logic...and how a lot of geometric proofs and such were independently figured out by many different people...you almost might say (if you are an Elizabeth Zimmerman fan) that they were "unvented"). And "The Pickwick Papers," which is so entertaining that I'm kind of sad I didn't think to read it before.

So it may be a while before I get to these four new ones. (But as I said before - book SABLE. Or maybe that should be BABLE - Books Acquired Beyond Life Expectancy. Or maybe BABEL - Books Acquired Beyond Expectation of Life, to make it a cute allusion. Though I only can read English and French, and perhaps some German, if it's something simple like a yarn label or a menu).

I'm home. (I got in about two hours ago, put away the groceries I bought, called my parents to let them know I got home OK, washed my hair, put away the clothes in my suitcase...one of the many nice things about visiting my parents is that I have the opportunity, my last day there, to do all my laundry, so I have clean clothes to put away at home instead of a bunch of laundry to do).

I often think, when I'm on my way home after a trip, of this passage:

Home! That was what they meant, those caressing appeals, those soft touches wafted through the air, those invisible little hands pulling and tugging, all one way! Why, it must be quite close by him at the moment, his old home that he had hurriedly forsaken and never sought again, that day when he first found the river!

And now it was sending out its scouts and its messengers to capture and bring him in. Since his escape on that bright morning he had hardly given it a thought, so absorbed had he been in his new life, in all its pleasure, its surprises, its fresh and captivating experiences.

Now, with a rush of old memories, how clearly it stood up before him in the darkness! Shabby indeed, and small and poorly furnished, and yet his, the home he had made for himself, the home he had been so happy to get back to after his day’s work. And the home had been happy with him, too, evidently, and was missing him, and wanted him back, and was telling him so, through his nose, sorrowfully, reproachfully, but with no bitterness or anger; only with plaintive reminder that it was there, and wanted him.

(Kenneth Grahame, "The Wind in the Willows," in case you weren't familiar. I think - and this is perhaps another discussion for another place - that one of the merits of reading the "classics," especially when young, is that your whole life long you carry around a bank of images and words that describe some of the universal experiences in life, and you pull them out at the appropriate times, and it makes things resonate more richly).

I will note two good pieces of news, one that affects pretty much me alone, another that affects others as well as me:

First, my talk went well at the meetings. People thanked me for it, and all the questions I received were the "Tell me more" or "Here is my experience, how does it differ from yours" type questions, and not the "I'm really smart and I'm going to prove it by trying to destroy you" type of questions - which I've never got but which I have seen happen occasionally and it always seems unfortunate when it does.

(Also, another talk I heard - this one about doing prairie restoration on a former strip mine - actually cited the first paper I ever had published, my Master's Thesis work, from 1996. Nice to know it's still relevant to some people.)

The second piece of good news is that the yarn shop in my parents' town is NOT closing after all - I went in there the first full day I was up there, to say goodbye and also to see if there was anything I wanted on sale. Well, there was a big sign up in the window declaring that the going-out-of-business sale was OVER because they were moving to a new location - the owner verified it for me - she and her husband had just signed the lease a few days before. It's a bigger space, on the other side of campus, and she said it was $350 a month less than what she was paying now. (Rents must be high for commercial space; five years ago $350 a month was what I was paying here for a two-bedroom apartment). She remarked that she was already planning what new lines of yarn she wanted to carry. The new store opens in September so the next time I'm up for a visit, she will be in her new space. This makes me happy for the selfish reason (of course) that I will have access to a yarn shop when I visit my folks, but it also makes me happy that a small business owner didn't totally get run over by the "newer and better and more upscale" movement in that town, and that someone who seems to love what she does will get to continue it. (She was also happy to report her new location was right across the street from the largest women's dorm on campus).

More later, including some book discussion and a couple of finished objects...

Well, I'm off (or shortly, I am.)

Charlotte: I've often thought of the bus-tour thing. One thing I'd like to do (if my schedule ever permitted) was do a fall-foliage bus tour in New England. Or a trip around the Pacific Northwest.

I've also thought of the "small" cruises - like the Alaskan Inside Passage - where it's a small ship and it's more of an educational tour than a "cruise" cruise. (And I've heard there are ones for singles, or women-only trips...while the "singles" cruise holds out the possibility of meeting "someone" nice, I'm also kind of leery of anything that advertises itself specifically as "singles" because I've been disappointed before).

When I get a bit older there's always Elderhostel. My parents did a number of Elderhostel trips and really, really enjoyed them.

(And for my fall break, I'm already contemplating - possibly going to Siloam Springs or one of the other smaller "artist's community" type places in Arkansas. Or up to Guthrie, for a "pilgrimage" to Sealed With A Kiss knit shop. I do think this year I'm going to do a "get out of Dodge" type trip, no matter what gas may cost.)

But for now I'm content to have a compartment on a train and someone to cook dinner (and tomorrow's breakfast) for me.

I'll be back in about two weeks. I'm not anticipating having internet access on the road.

I did finish the "Gentleman's Plain Winter Socks"

(Standard disclaimer - I guess gentlemen had smaller feet years ago. I made these basically the same size - just a 1/2 or so shorter in the foot - and they fit me fine)



The yarn is a grey and turquoise yarn, not quite variegated, it's almost what's called a flammegarn (like a tie-dye).

This is a good pattern for variegated yarn because it's so simple, but it's not just 6" of plain ribbing or plain stockinette.

Of course, the temperature here will have to drop some 35 degrees from what it is now before I can even consider actually WEARING them....

****

And I'm packed to go. I'm not as excited for this trip as I am for some, I think because I'm so emotionally drained from this past week and from the heat and from the horribly falsely-entitled person I'm dealing with.

I'll be glad, though, to be in my compartment on the train tomorrow night, with my books and my socks and to go down to the dining car and have someone hand me a menu and ask me what I want to eat and then bring it to me and then take the plates away when I am done.

Taking care of oneself is important and it's a big part of being an adult, but I have to admit there are times when I want nothing more than to be taken care of - to have my food prepared for me and not to have to drive myself places and not to have any battles to fight.

I suppose this is why some people go to those "all inclusive" resorts. As a single woman who is not particularly "looking" (or at least not "looking" for the kind of short-term, physical-rather-than-intellectual relationship that seems to be a hallmark of a lot of those resorts), they're kind of not an option for me.

I suppose in some respects the various religious retreats offer something similar - while you may have to take a share in the cooking and cleaning, at least the major decisions about what to eat and when are lifted from you. You do what you are supposed to; it is already planned out. I find it is the planning of my own little life that gets me down sometimes. (And if it were a place where everyone was required to spend part of the day in silence, all the better).

Well, I'm packed. Unfortunately it's going to be rainy/stormy all day long, and there have been tornado watches in the area the train is supposed to be passing through currently.

Oh well. Flying could be a lot worse.

And I've got a bunch of books packed, and I'm going to toss the my not-quite-done-reading copy of The Silver Pigs in my purse - I'll probably finish it while waiting for the train, but I can always bung it in my car to avoid having to carry it.

I'm back.

I think the nicest, most polite thing I can say about the trip back is that apparently Amtrak's logistics have a hard time coping with a changing situation like flooding.

Because after changing my tickets from Friday to Sunday (after being told that they were busing people Friday night but it should be cleared up by Sunday), then being told that I'd be bused, then being told LATER that the train was back in service, then being told I'd be bused from STL to Little Rock and put on a train there, I was finally told I'd be bused from STL to Mineola.

Luckily, I knew that in time to get a refund on the sleeper coach. Or I would have been extremely unhappy.

I spent 18 hours on a bus Sunday evening through this afternoon. I do not recommend it. I especially do not recommend it if you are not a heavy sleeper or are not one of those lucky souls who readily falls asleep "anywhere." I was able to get two seats to myself. But bus seats are fairly small, and the bus had no leg rests. I spent the night alternately wishing I was 3 feet tall (so I could fit in the space afforded by the two seats together without having to fold up some body part) and contemplating Sartre's comment that Hell was other people (as there were several people who could NOT refrain from loudly cell-phoning friends or relatives every hour on the hour to apprise them of the progress and the mounting state of their irritation. That second state being why I figured it would not help matters for me to ask them to quiet down)

I feel very bad about missing a day of class, especially when I saw no travel-related benefit from it...it is easier to explain missing a day because accommodations were much better, but when they are much the same - not so much.

But at least I am home. I hugged the windshield/driver's side door of my car when I saw it again.

I hope the floods go down rapidly. And I hope service is properly restored before my planned Memorial Day travel. Or that travel will not be happening.

Hooray.

I called the automated Amtrak number to check on train status - I have about a 2 h 30 min. drive to the station so if it's waaaaaay late it's a good thing to know. I told them "Fort Worth" as the station I was checking on because (a) the train should be a lot closer to Fort Worth right now than it is to Mineola and (b) sometimes the automated system doesn't "understand" the smaller town-names. (They once thought "Mineola" was "Minneapolis").

Well, the automated voice said, "Due to a service disruption on the line, I am transferring you to an agent."

My heart sank. What that would mean is either the train was hours upon hours late - like, it would pull in to Mineola at 3 am instead of 5 pm - or that it had to be cancelled altogether, and even IF I could get a roomette in a later train, it would be tomorrow at the earliest.

I breathed deeply, reminded myself quickly that no matter how bad it was, it was NOT the agent's fault, if he or she could magically fix it, they would, and I needed to be nice to him or her even if I was going to start to cry.

Well, I got a lady agent, explained the situation. "I don't see any disruption at Mineola, but let me check" she said.

I sat and listened to a few moment's worth of The Cars' "It's Magic" (Haven't heard that since high school, I think). She came back.

"Ma'am...they're taking passengers off at Fort Worth and turning the train around. It will be on time at Mineola."

What a wonderful thing to hear. Apparently the service disruption will not affect me, and although I feel bad for the people who are stuck in the Arizona desert or who are being bused from Killeen, I'm very happy that I can hop in my car around 2:30, start driving, and look forward to a nice dinner on the train and a nice quiet compartment to read in.

So I thanked the lady for taking the trouble to check, wished her a good day...and now I'm ready to go on vacation.

I'm packed.

I'm trying to grade some papers so I will not have to take them with me. (I will still have to do my taxes and read two large-ish books, and review and rewrite and submit an abstract for some summer meetings).

But oh, how I need this break.

I have several unfinished projects I'd like to "clear out" - the Sweet Tooth socks (turned the heel for the second sock last night!). And the Snicket socks (working on the cuff of the second one). And the blue "Child's French Sock" (heel of first sock has been turned).

I also would like to finish the current Clapotis; I'm close to the "last" section, so it may get done. And for good measure, I threw the long-stalled "Cozy" in my bag, thinking I might be motivated to finish it.

I also took a couple potential new projects (which I might never start, but whatever. I'm not known for packing light and I tend to take far more books and far more projects than I can complete on vacation, but part of the pleasure of anticipating vacation is thinking of ALL the free time you will have).

I want to do the "undulating ribs socks" in that "Favorite Socks Book" (from my beloved Interweave) using some Shibui Sock! in a colorway called "Pebble" (soft browns and a pale grey-blue; I think it will be ideal for that pattern). I also tossed a skein of Austermann Step (Colorway "Coffee" - dark brown, red-brown, and black stripes) for a second pair of "retro-rib socks" (Also from that Favorite Socks Book, which I will reiterate is an excellent book to own if you like making socks, lots of interesting patterns in there).

And I'm taking the humpback whale amigurumi pattern. I will probably break down and make this one over break because it just makes me happy to make toys.

As for books, I have some book I'd never heard of before on women naturalists (I don't remember the exact title) that one of my students chose for Directed Readings, and Finding Darwin's God (which I approved as being "scientific....enough" sort of grudgingly after a skim through, but I wanted to read it myself, so maybe that's justification enough for saying it's OK. And heck, it probably does contain enough science and not too much opinion). And I have a couple of Hamish MacBeth mysteries (a series my mom's talked about enjoying but which I haven't read yet). And Pickwick Papers, which I'm still slowly working on.

Some more travelogue.

I managed to get about a day on either end of the meetings to visit my parents. I was very fortunate in that the Sugar Creek Arts Festival was going on during the Saturday I was in Normal - I love going to it (I went just about every year that I lived there).

This year, it was HUGE - they increased the number of vendors and expanded onto campus. It was hot but it was a lot of fun and it was really nice. I bought a few little things - a couple of funky pendants (one made from an antique Victorian button. The other pendant - it was one of those picture-sandwiched-between-glass things, she had lots and lots that were mostly made from bits photocopied out of OOP children's nature books, or old "scrap" cuttings. I got her card but I can't find it now - she has an Etsy shop - I'm trying to find it to link to it because her stuff was so great [it was hard for me to choose just one pendant]. Most of the things had a "nature" theme, as far as I remember. I think the shop's name - not the seller's name, hers was different - had Ramona or Rosemary or something like it in it. Her pieces were pretty reasonable; I paid $20 for mine.)

The trip to Chicago was generally pretty hectic - getting there, wrangling with taxis, managing in a town where I don't really know the geography.

I did go to the Field Museum, as I said. We got in free to the "general exhibits" (some of which, sadly, seemed a bit worn - I suppose generations of schoolkids coming through leads to letters falling off of signs and things like that). There were also a couple special exhibits that were an extra admission. By sheer good luck, they had the Darwin exhibit that had been at the Museum of Natural History (the big one, in NYC) last year. It was $7 to get in but well worth it. Oh, I knew a lot of the stuff already but it was still neat to see certain things - a cartoon a classmate of Darwin's had drawn, showing him riding a giant beetle, with the caption, "Go it, Charlie!" (I thought that would have made an excellent t-shirt, as would have Darwin's first tentative sketch of a "tree of life," to which he had appended the words, "I think..." on the top of it. But I suppose either licensing of those images wasn't possible, or perhaps what I think makes an excellent t-shirt is not what most of the masses would agree upon). They also had some of his equipment and samples. I don't know, maybe it's just me, but I think it's cool to be able to go to a museum and see stuff like Darwin's actual rock hammer that he used when he was a student. (I think it's the same tendency that makes me like using "historical" patterns, I can kind of imagine a bridge over all that time).

So, it was fun. As I said before I got totally dumped on by rain coming back to the hotel (and the paper bag of stuff I got in the gift shop totally melted; the book I bought is all swelled now from getting wet. Luckily the stuffed-toy smilodon I bought didn't get ruined by the water. Yes, I am maintaining my conference-tradition of finding a small (sometimes not so small) stuffie from the place I visit.)

I saw more people than I realized at the meetings - I ran into one guy I had gone to grad school with who had been in a different lab (and I had totally forgot he was a plant guy). He's at one of the small colleges in northern Illinois now, so it was convenient for him to go to the meetings. It was good to see him and catch up.

(I will observe - if I may be a bit vain - both of the chaps I saw that I went to grad school with are considerably greyer than I am. And I think each of them was a year or two younger than I. I'd like to credit "clean living" but I wonder if maybe people who get their hair cut short a lot just go grey faster - I almost never get my hair cut.)

I got some decent free-stuff - a little clock from the Noble Foundation (which is actually close to me and I made a point to talk to the lady at the table - she pulled the clock out from under the table, I guess she was keeping them back for other than just casual visitors - and told me to put it on my desk to remind me of them if I ever had a student who wanted a job there.). Lots of pens. A blue plastic maraca (probably the weirdest piece of swag I've picked up) advertising next year's meetings in Mexico (almost certainly won't go, but the woman manning the table encouraged me to take one). And it was just fun talking with the people at the displays - I suppose it gets boring sitting there, especially if you're not a bookseller.

As for meeting-meetings, other than my own session, I went to one on seed biology (I was proud of myself that I understood the metabolic pathways being discussed but I got a bit lost in some of the genetic analysis). I also sat through a long session on Great Lakes botany that was really pretty interesting (and that made me a bit "homesick" for Michigan, even if I never really lived in the parts of Michigan being discussed). And went to a session on prairie (that was where I met my old "mates" from grad school). I probably skipped more sessions than I SHOULD, but as an ecologist, I have a little bit of a hard time getting really excited over the details of lumping vs. splitting taxonomic groups (I tend to be a "lumper," myself - if it looks like it belongs in the species, I group it with the species - and I will continue to do that until they invent a hand-held DNA analyzer that will tell you the differences between two sister species in the field. And I think I'm probably justified in my "lumping" considering that I mainly look at ecological FUNCTION and generally when the phenotype's the same, the function's similar). And I don't understand a lot of the genetics-analysis stuff, at least once it gets beyond Southern blots and that kind of thing. So I decided that it was probably preferable to take a couple of hours each day for a sort of pseudo-vacation, rather than sitting in a dark room being confused (or infuriated, in the case of the pickier "splitters")

I also skipped most of the posters, but they had them in a basement, and they had them all crowded in. I have a hard time looking at posters when they're all crowded and it seems a lot of meetings do that. (I did see one neat one looking at the vegetation on the old coquina-shell limestone walls making up the fort in St. Augustine, Florida.)

And then, Wednesday, the whole big cattle call in Union Station to get on the train home. (That's where I saw most of the really execrable not-able-to-form-a-fair-line behavior. And I also had the misfortune to wind up sitting in a car with a large number of people who had been at a conference for people involved in a particular party-format home-based business, and they were very LOUD and they kept the "networking" going in the train car.)

And I had another day and a half or so visiting my parents. The biggest thing I did was to finish the Waving Lace socks (picture to come later). I also finished the first of a pair of "simple socks" using a Trekking that's almost more variegated than self-striping.

I also got to the yarn shop (well, twice - once on the trip up and once on the trip back). I get kind of sad when I read about people on Knitter's Review talking about yarn shops who have 'snobby' or rude or unhelpful owners - luckily the lady who runs Ewe Knit is VERY friendly and cordial and welcoming. She knew I had been giving a paper - and even remembered from an earlier conversation what the topic was - and she asked me about how it went. (Makes me want to buy stuff from her. And I do. I got some Second Time Cotton in a burgundy-ish purple for yet another Sitcom Chic. And a couple balls of something called "Shire Silk" for an openwork "dressy" scarf. [I just love the name "Shire Silk." Spun by hobbits, I suppose?]).

I also went to my favorite quilt shop up there (Treadle II). My dad insisted on paying for the fabric I bought and told me to buy whatever I wanted. (Oddly, when I know someone else is footing the bill, I buy LESS than I might otherwise - I guess I don't like to feel like I'm taking advantage.)

The yarn came back with me in my suitcase but the fabric - and a couple of the books I finished reading while on the train, along with the hugacious program-and-abstracts from the meeting - are on their way to me in the mail.

I'm back.

I'll write more later (I'm supposed to be doing a Sunday School lesson, on one of the Minor Prophets that I know little about, and about whom there's not a whole lot of commentary on the web).

The trip was generally pretty good. I didn't have any hecklers - actually, didn't really get any questions. I don't know if that was because my talk was clear or if people just weren't that interested in the topic.

I am reminded of why I don't live in a big city. True, there are a lot of cultural opportunities, but there are just too many people in too large groups. And too many people who are doing the "La, la, la, I am the only one that matters" thing. (Seriously. Chicago - you need to talk to your residents about behavior in lines. "No Cuts" is as good a rule when you are over 10 as it is when you are under 10.)

I did get out and do a few things - went to the Field Museum Monday afternoon (and got totally poured on coming back; a thunderstorm came out of nowhere and I had walked there from my hotel). Spent part of Tuesday afternoon just wandering around the Loop - walked up as far as Wacker on Michigan and then went into the Macy's-that-used-to-be-Marshall-Field's on the way back. Was shocked and dismayed at both the styles and the prices of the clothes. (Hint: brace yourselves for a 70s resurgence, and not necessarily in a good way). Bought some stuff at the Chicago Architecture Institute (or whatever it's called). Realized too late that Tuesdays were a "free" day at the Art Institute.

It took me a good day to readjust to being in crowds that large. I felt very much like the Country Mouse at first, and felt very threatened by the sheer mass of humanity. It wore off after a little while, but I still think I prefer living in a lower-density area.

Bought a lot of books, and unlike the mistakes I made in the past, I arranged to have them delivered through the mail rather than requesting the display copy "so I can read it on the way back." (which never actually happens). Got some free junk from places, mostly pens, but a few cooler items. Ate a cracker with Vegemite that the lady from CSIRO was handing out as an enticement to visit her booth (CSIRO is the Australian agriculture/botany agency).

Went to - oh gosh, was it called Moonstruck? A chocolate cafe. But didn't eat chocolate - got an iced chai because it was hot and I had been walking and I mainly needed to sit for a while. (But the chai was good too).

Saw the "Bean," but just from a distance - by that time on Tuesday it was threatening rain and I didn't want to get soaked again.

The Chicago River, I'm sorry to report, makes parts of the Loop smell like poo, at least on a warm summer day.

Heard a lot of talks - saw more people than I realized I knew there. Have a few research/resource ideas I'm thinking about.

Not looking forward to getting my Mastercard bill for this month.