- Wonderfalls. Why didn’t anyone tell me about this show? I’m watching the repeats on the new Logo channel and lovin’ em.
- I know myself pretty well. Like tonight, when I was packing, I was putting clothes into my take-everywhere canvas travel carry-on. When I unzipped a small compartment, I felt a rustle. It was a note. A small, folded up piece of white paper. I carefully unfolded it, expecting to find an old address tag. Instead, it said in my own handwriting, "Do not use this pocket until you wash out the melted Cadbury Creme Egg." I would NEVER have remembered that melted egg.
- Pickathon. I’m going. Fabulous line-up, camping out, bluegrass, and no worries other than bringing no chairs. I’m inordinately annoyed with myself that I didn’t pack Lala’s car with chairs, because after three days of knitting sitting on the ground, I’m going to be a big whiny effin grouch. But oh, well. Lala and friends drove up yesterday, and I’m on an early flight today, so by the time you read this, I’ll be in Portland, looking for a ride from a friend of a friend who’s going to pick me up either at the airport or somewhere in Portland after I call her when I land. I don’t normally travel this sloppily, but it’s kind of liberating. We’re only staying a couple of days for the festival and then driving at high rates of speed back down the west coast to get Lala to work on Monday, so I’m not packing much more than some tank tops and a bunch of yarn. Can’t wait.
Y’all have a great weekend, and I’ll catch up on email when I get home.
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