No big surprise, eh? You all know how I love my martinis. But I’m going to tell you the story behind my martinis. And then I’m going to tell you how to make a martini just like I do.

Okay, flashback. January, 2004. I read a book called The Dewey Decimal System of Love by Josephine Carr. The book tells the story of a quirky librarian who sets her eye on the conductor of an orchestra. And drinks Dirty Grey Goose Martinis. Up until this point in my life I had never had a martini. I can’t abide the taste of gin and I didn’t know you could make one from vodka. By halfway through the book I had researched exactly how to make a martini like the ones the librarian in the book was drinking. And by the end of the book I was drinking a martini along with her.

Here’s my recipe:
3 oz Grey Goose Vodka
1/8 oz Vermouth
1/2 oz olive juice
2 olives

Put all ingredients except the olives in cocktail shaker with lots of ice. Shake vigorously. Pour into chilled martini glass and add the olives. Drink. Relax.

I’ll be having one or two this weekend. I will not be sharing with the cat.

The following comes directly from The Amazing Lace blog:

Challege #3: The Poetry Challenge

Your challenge: One poem, written by, for, or about your lace teammate posted to your blog (or photohosting account) by midnight EDT (UTC -4:00), July 2.

Hmmm. Poetry? They want me to be deep? Well, alright.

There once was a shawl knit of cotton
The pattern was called Lotus Blossom
The knitting went fast
Only two weeks had passed
And my teammate now points to my bottom

(you can see more photos of the shawl here)

Think that evokes enough deep sentiment and emotion?

Here’s something you may not know about me. I have a hard time with reentry. It doesn’t matter if I’ve been gone overnight or for several days, I tend to flame on reentry. Just ask Dale. It doesn’t matter that I’ve missed my family and can’t wait to see them again. If the counters aren’t wiped and the floors aren’t swept, I’m going to bitch about it. And if the mail has been left to pile up for 5 days? And the dishwasher is full of dirty dishes because no one ran it
while I was gone? And the laundry’s piled up and the lawn needs to be mowed (and these aren’t even my jobs anyway), I’m really going to bitch about it. Let’s just say that the first night home was a little rough.

Granted, I was feeling the let down of a wonderful trip coming to an end, but things improved as the week went on. It helped matters that Dale and I spent a few days together focusing on the things that make it nice to live in Massachusetts.

Like lobster rolls.

And streams I can stick my feet in without having cramps because the water is too cold.

And a husband who is sweet enough to bring me flowers when he picks me up at the airport. And wear the t-shirt I brought him from Utah the very next day. And not complain when I don’t write him a birthday post on his birthday because I had to finish telling everyone about my trip. (It would be cool if you all actually wished Dale a happy 55th birthday today, even though yesterday was his birthday. Thanks, gang.)

Things like seeing the roof of my library and the sky from my topless Jeep.

And enjoying a granddaughter’s first birthday party.

I guess it’s not so bad to live in Massachusetts. Not to go all Dorothy on you, but there really is no place like home.

Are you tired of my western adventures yet? I hope not! But if you are, take heart, this is the last post about my trip. Waaaah.

We arrived back at Margene’s on Sunday evening about 5 to find Smith waiting for us. He prepared a delicious meal with Anaheim peppers to start, followed by grilled salmon, Yukon gold potatoes, and a medley of broccoli and asparagus. I know you guys all think Dale is a keeper, and I agree. But Smith? He’s pretty okay, too. After all our traveling it felt good to be “home” and just chat and relax over dinner and wine. It was a wonderful evening on their patio!

In the morning we headed to the infamous Silver Fork Lodge for breakfast. I already showed you a picture of my delicious meal but you didn’t see this one of the three of us on the deck. With our Trekking socks, of course. And there were violet green swallows and a couple of prairie dogs, too.

After fortifying ourselves we headed up the mountain to Silver Lake, the site of so many of Margene’s gorgeous photos. It was like stepping into the computer and having Margene’s blog come alive!

Even after seeing it myself, I find it hard to believe it was real. It’s just too beautiful! There were birds and ducks and wildflowers everywhere! And of course, mountains! Margene is right when she says that back East we don’t have mountains, we have bumps.

And, while I didn’t see a moose, I did see moose tracks.

All too soon it was time to bring Birdsong to the airport. But that still left Margene and I with a few hours to kill before my flight. So, I was given the grand tour of Salt Lake City, including a yarn shop, the library and Temple Square.

Just as we were driving back to the airport, Smith called and said that terminal one had been closed down due to a suspicious package. When Margene and I arrived at the terminal there were lines and weary travelers and cancelled flights. For a brief moment it looked as though my stay in Salt Lake City might be prolonged. But things turned around quickly and I made it through security and on my flight with time to spare.

Before I knew it I was being greeted at the airport by Dale. I’m pretty sure he missed me. And that’s not a bad thing to come home to.

This concludes the recap of my trip. It was a fabulous, wonderful time. I had loads of fun and made some new friends to boot.

Thanks for everything, Margene! I still believe in the magic of Estes Park.

Are you ready to finally relive my Estes Park Wool Market experience with me? It was terrific! I wasn’t kidding when I said that Margene was the first one through the door to the wool building. And she made a beeline for the Plain and Fancy yarn spun and dyed by her friend Grace. I also purchased some of this yarn – but for Martha, not for myself. Once done with that task, Stephanie and I started wandering around and looking at fiber.

It was fun seeing new vendors and different yarns and fibers. Everyone was friendly and the booths were full of people but not so crowded that you couldn’t browse. Honestly, though, I was pretty selective about purchases since I knew whatever I bought would have to come home in a suitcase with me. I did find some beautiful indigo dyed corriedale, which reminds me of the blue sky of Utah and some natural Suri alpaca, which reminds me of the brown of Wyoming.

Everything else, though, I was able to resist. And I thought I was done shopping. Then I stumbled over a Corriedale Bond X fleece. I had put it down and walked away and would have been okay with that if I hadn’t bumped into Snow and Kristi right then. I dragged them back to the booth to show them this amazing fleece.

And as I stood there explaining what was so great about it (the color, the crimp, the cleanliness, the softness) I realized that I would be a fool if I left it behind. What?!? Look at this!

You would have bought it, too.

Next thing I knew it was time for lunch. And, while there were food booths available, the thought of a sit-down cafe out of the dust and wind was just too tempting to pass by. The car was a little crowded but, That Margene. She adapts to any situation.

Good thing the car ride didn’t hurt her back. She needed to sit up straight when she tried out the wheels at the Bountiful booth. Yup.

Margene at a spinning wheel. Anyone want to start taking bets on how long it is before she makes a purchase? Speaking of purchases, that’s Michaele looking on so intently. She succombed about an hour later. heh.

After spinning, it was time to visit the animals. Here’s where the big difference in New England wool festivals and Western wool festivals became apparent.

The alpacas! They have a whole tent full of alpacas and alpaca fleeces.

It was amazing. I took this picture just for Laurie.

Those are all alpaca fleeces and there were at least 4 times more than what you see here. Swoon.

The sheep and goats were of the typical variety so after visiting with them we headed back to our condo for some beer relaxation. And the rest of Saturday was just that – relaxation!

And pictures with new friends.

That’s me and Stephanie. We sort of bonded over the whole fleece purchasing experience.

Once the photo ops were over, I plunked myself on a couch between Snow and Miriam and we all chatted and swapped stories and shared our purchases. There were jokes told and advice given and the fellowship of that gathering was fantastic. Bakerina provided us with a fabulous dinner of Shepherd’s Pie, salad and home made strawberry/peach pie. And I taught my Colorado and Utah friends what the term “packy run” means. It’s a trip to the liquor store, in case you didn’t know. I imagine the phrase is sweeping through the West even as you read this.

After so much talk and beer and food I couldn’t keep my eyes open. We headed for bed to rest up for the long drive back to Utah on Sunday. And, rather than bore you with more descriptions of the brown-ness of Wyoming, I’ll just say that the ride home to Utah was less eventful than the ride out to Colorado. We didn’t even get lost. We did, however, see this magnificent creature.

I can’t possibly top that with more words. You’ll have to wait until Monday to hear about the final day of my trip. Have a wonderful weekend, everybody!

So Margene would have made a great drill sergeant. The woman can get a wack of knitters moving like nobody’s business and she had Birdsong and I out the door on Friday morning by 6:00 AM. Which, considering real time for me, wasn’t all that bad. We picked up Ann and swapped some luggage around with Utah bloggers and were on our way.

Here’s what I learned on my trip through Wyoming and Colorado:

~Wyoming is very, very brown. Occasionally there is green but it’s mostly brownish green. Oh, and there are antelope.

~There are no decent road signs in Colorado. Kristi suggested that the locals were the ones who removed the signs just to screw with the tourists. It worked and we got lost. One thing, though, that’s helpful. In Colorado, when you’re driving on a paved road? And it turns to a dirt road? They have a sign that reads “Pavement Ends.” Here in Massachusetts, we just sort of let you figure that one out on your own.

~Margene is an excellent driver. She only occasionally drives through someone’s back yard, between a fence and a telephone pole, over some dirt and a sidewalk, to get to the road she wants to be on. Really, this only happened once in an 8 hour drive.

~Bloggers are the same wherever you go! I met long time virtual friends Snow, Stephanie and Miriam as well as newer friends and it was all good. Just warm and accepting and comfortable. I’m sure the candy I brought from home had nothing to do with how nice everyone was to me.

~Beer in Colorado looks different than beer in Massachusetts. I’d love to see what they do with an ice cream cone.

~Stephanie is very generous with her wheel. Not only did she set it up for me to spin but she even brought me fiber. I think Lennie and Lucy would get along famously should they ever have the chance to meet.

~Margene is a great planner. She pored over the detailed map and schedule of the wool market while other people only looked on. Perhaps this is why she was the first one through the door of the wool building on Saturday morning.

And I’ll tell you all about that and the rest of the Estes Wool Market details tomorrow!

I’ve had blog posts floating around in my head for days, trying to organize my thoughts and stories from my trip west. But, honestly, how do you get all of that into a post or two? I know I can’t. Please be patient as I work my way through my memories and photographs of this wonderful trip.

So, to start. I flew from Providence to Chicago. I looked for Oprah during my brief layover but I didn’t see her. Damn. I left Chicago behind and flew to Salt Lake City. I had a window seat and was able to snap a sky photo for Sandy.

See that? It’s the sky from above the sky. Pretty slick, eh?

Once in the airport I spotted Margene. Everything good thing you’ve ever imagined about Margene? All true. And then some. Really. After less than 5 minutes I felt like I’d known her my whole life. And our friendship just grew from that point. So cool. Anyway, enough gushing about Ms. SL, UT. We hung around the airport for a bit and before long Birdsong arrived. Again, instant friend. This blogging thing sure is cool.

Can you guess where we stopped first? Ummm. Yeah, it was a yarn shop. Forget Temple Square or Salt Lake or any tourist destinations. We were bloggers on a mission because Birdsong needed Trekking. I might have slipped and bought a skein or two of sock yarn myself.

From the yarn shop we headed to Margene and Smith’s warm and welcoming condo.

I met Moxie and Murphy and we chatted until Smith came home and then all went to dinner. At dinner we met up with Susan and Camille, a friend of Margene and Smith’s. Great food and possibly great conversation. I’m not sure because the folk guitars were too loud for me to hear much of what was said. I did figure out that Susan is charming and smart and funny. And that was enough for me.

Friday morning, up at the butt-crack of dawn to drive to Colorado.

To be continued . . .

That is a picture of Monday morning’s breakfast with Margene and Birdsong at Silver Fork Lodge. Huevos Rancheros isn’t generally on the menu here at home. Sigh.

The trip was fabulous and I promise to tell you all about. But right now? I need to sleep.

As I may have mentioned last week, today is our 9th wedding anniversary. I certainly can’t top last year’s post and I don’t want to bore you with another wedding photo so I’m showing you a different one.

This is my favorite picture ever of Dale and I. We are at the top of Mt. Battie and that’s Camden Harbor in the distance on the right. It was taken while we were on our honeymoon. We rented a house right on the water in Belfast, Maine and had a fabulous time. We gorged ourselves on lobster and scenery and relaxation.

Happy Anniversary, Dale. It’s been an amazing 9 years and I can’t wait to see what’s up around the bend.

Okay, enough of the mushy stuff.

I’m off on my little trip out west. The Everyday Cardigan and Lotus Blossom Shawl are both finished and going along for the ride. Thanks for all the well wishes! Please allow me to leave you with this song in your head because I haven’t been able to get it out of mine.

See you all on Tuesday!

As you know by now, on Thursday I’m heading to Colorado for Estes Wool Market. Well, Estes Wool Market via Salt Lake City and Margene. I’m so excited I can hardly stand it! New sites! New bloggers! New vendors! But you know what’s not new to me? Estes Park itself. I’ve been there before. Yes, indeed, world traveler that I am, I’m going back to one of the few places out west that I’ve already visited. There will be a few differences on this trip, though. Please indulge me as I share a photographic essay of my trip to Estes Park in 1980.

Back in 1980 I went with my church youth group to join up with other church youth groups from around the country to attend a camp called CHIC or Covenant High Congress. There were 2500 campers in Estes Park that week! And, this is an event held only every four years and you have to be a high school student to go – hence, you only get to experience this once. There were huge get togethers with singing and praying and mattress races. I kind of doubt we’ll have mattress races this time but that’s me up there, riding the mattress with a mountain backdrop.

My hair was a LOT longer then than it is now.

In 1980, I wore a pink cowboy hat. Sad, but true. I promise to leave the pink cowboy hat safely in Massachusetts this time. I think I’ll bring a finished Everyday Cardigan instead.

In 1980 I also wore yellow pants. Thankfully, I don’t have any yellow pants to wear on this trip. You want to know the saddest part about this picture? Everyone else is wearing jeans, right? My mother wouldn’t let me wear jeans on the plane. She told me I had to be dressed appropriately and jeans were inappropriate. Hence, yellow pants. It’s a good thing these were church kids or I would have been eaten alive.

Honestly, though, the best part about my previous visit to Estes was hanging out with my girlfriends. One of my roommates at this camp was my best friend from first grade until sixth grade, when she moved to Alaska. Seeing her at Estes Park was the highlight of my week. I made new friends, too. I left thinking that Estes Park is a magical place where friendships blossom.

Somehow, I think, I’m going to believe that after this visit, too.