Yesterday began with a little tiny tree stitching. Her name is "Aster", a wintery word that means star.
After breakfast we started off for Oregon. It was a cold, but mostly clear day.
Bright sunshine made seeing stitches easier on this "Queen of the Night" purple yarn.
A quick stop at Powell's is always swell. They had very clear protocols and arrows to follow, and with only a few people in the store my fifteen minutes there felt very safe. Only six of the rooms were open, but they were the right ones for me (children's, literature and new arrivals).
Another stop just outside of our home town was at Bob's Red Mill for a 25 lb. bag (much cheaper this way) of the oats that I eat six days a week. (K makes bacon waffles on Saturdays, a tradition from his father.)
(A bit of hometown history... Bob's used to be in the town, but it rebuilt next door after an arson fire in 1988. Dad and my brother were two of the fire fighters that tried to save the mill. Everything was destroyed except the mill stones... "Almost indestructible to begin with, the stones were saved when hundreds of pounds of stored grain fell on them from the second floor during the fire and snuffed out the flames, keeping them from shattering in the heat, as well as preserving the gears that turned them.")
At K's sister's, we were met with a cozy set-up on her front porch- comfortable chairs, blankets, heater, the tv trays from their childhood, etc. and plenty of social distancing. It was fun to knit while covered with an afghan crocheted by their grandma. (She was a wonderful strong woman.)
K's sister loves to entertain and is an amazing cook. We were happy to oblige! Homemade pot pies with the best crust (made with the new to me ingredient of vodka).
After three hours of good food and company, we said our goodbyes among the twinkle lights and candles, and drove the three hours back home to Seattle. I suppose it might seem silly to spend more time driving than at the destination, but it was worth it.
