Even though we were only at their place for 24 hours, it took us a crazy amount of time to get there and back. GC and I love road trips but we spend almost as much time in restaurants and ditches and forests and meadows and dirt roads as we do in the car. And sometimes we’re so exhausted we have to pull over to the side of the road and have ourselves a little snooze. (I don’t like to fall asleep when GC’s driving because I secretly suspect he’s a hard-core narcoleptic, so I stay awake to keep him awake so we don’t crash and die.)The GPS estimated it should take us four hours and fifteen minutes to drive from Lindsay to Ottawa. it took us seven and a half hours. That’s partly because we found three geocaches along the way. The first one was on a cliff behind the Windy Ridge Conservation Area, near Lindsay. The second one was a toughie in a forest on the banks of the Crowe River – it took us an hour and a half. The third one was a slam-dunk at the Silver Lake rest area (I highly recommend it as a place to stop and eat your picnic lunch, but try to avoid using the washrooms. I refuse to go into the details; just take my word for it. Please.)
I did a fair amount of knitting in the car, but I’m not very happy with the results. I bought two skeins of a luxury variegated yarn (Araucania Ruca Multy) to make a baby sweater. I did one front using one skein and the other front using the other skein. One is much pinker while the other is much bluer. At first I tried to convince myself it was all in my imagination.
“Do these look okay to you?” I asked GC. He glanced from the road to the two sweater fronts on my lap. I swear, he only looked for about half a second before looking back to the road.
“They look like completely different colours,” he said helpfully.
So much for that. If a man can see it in half a second, it’s not all in my head. Not that there’s anything wrong with men, but they seem to have fairly primitive powers of colour differentiation. I’m not a whole lot better. Both my sisters can spend five minutes describing a colour, whereas I run out of things to say after the name of the colour and one or two adjectives. “A fairly bright red” is about my limit. But my sisters can wax eloquent about the undertones and flecks and mid-ranges and seasons and temperatures and crispness and depth and texture of a colour.Anyway. It wasn’t all in my head. The two fronts are different colours. Maybe it’ll be less noticeable when I get the frill done. And the sleeves. (I did the back using both skeins, so any differences between the colours would be absorbed and evened out….but I didn’t want to be carrying two skeins up the fronts, with all the increases and decreases. Too sloppy.)
Duncan is so happy I’m home again. He licked my face for about fifteen minutes, while simultaneously purring, as I tried to fall asleep last night. And this morning he joined me in the shower. My old dog, Sam, used to join me in the shower from time to time too, whenever there was a thunderstorm, but Duncan does it every day. I’ve rented a bath chair temporarily because sometimes when my back is really bad I can’t stand long enough to take a whole shower. I never get to use the bath chair because Duncan likes to lie on it while I’m showering. He doesn’t even care that he gets damp.