So what about all those trips you took in August and September, Kat™? Are you ever going to tell us about those, huh?
Here it is in picture format. This of this as the National Geographic version of my travels, minus the gorgeous landscapes and bare-breasted natives.
Camnesia struck in Ithaca with gayle, but when I was looking at the photos for this post I noticed that I had captured her in the mirror at far left. Hi, gayle!
Me ‘n’ Becky in Wayneburg after gorging ourselves — not really, we were both quite sane about it — on barbecue.
It wouldn’t be a proper photo of Kym and me without wine, would it?
I have kicked myself any number of times since returning home because I didn’t get a photo of Kat and me. We had a great time over infamous Pittsburgh-style pastrami sandwiches — cole slaw and fries inside the sandwich. I never knew what a great eating town Pittsburgh is.
On the trip east, Smokey had made all our motel reservations, but I never got quite organized enough to give him dates and cities for the knitblogger portion of the trip. I did not do nearly as well when I made my own reservations. I forget which city this was — maybe Pittsburg? maybe Ithaca? — but while my room was quite comfortable, the motel had clearly seen better days.
At the legendary Moosewood Restaurant in Ithaca.
This might be the same motel featured above. The gentleman in the blue shirt was perusing and tweaking the security cam footage the entire time I was checking in. He was watching it as though it were an Academy Award-winning movie. When I sneaked this photo, the guy in the yellow striped shirt heard the click of my camera and said, “Did you just take a picture?” I lied and said no, that it was a game on my phone. Kinnear failure. Deceitful Kat™.
I don’t remember which city this gorgeous planter was in, but I took the photo because it was outside a McDonalds — not usually the place one expects to find horticultural excellent.
Okay, that’s enough from the east coast trip. On to the subsequent regional trips.
50th reunion of the class I went to school with until 9th grade. It was a graduating class of 27 in 1967; 21 graduates came to the reunion, plus three that, like me, had moved before graduation. It was delightful to see them all again after so many years. I hope to get together with several of the women at one of their semi-regular coffee klatches.
From above. That’s my best friend from h.s. and I. We are both named Kathy (although her parents made the tragic error of naming her Kathleen instead of Kathryn), our birthdays are one day apart, and we share the same cynical attitude about everything. Although she tries to appear gruff, she is the one of the kindest and most generous people on the planet. Hi, Kathy! I think you didn’t want your picture taken. Please forgive me for posting it on the internet in front of everyone. (You can hit me later.)