The Crash and the Fall Out

Fall came in with a bang. Literally.

September 8, first day back to school, Jim was in an accident with my car. No one was hurt. The other vehicle was a truck and Jim was the only person in my car. He was badly bruised and shaken but no worse. My car, however, will not recover.

All week I've been telling Jim how delighted I am that the car got crumpled because it protected him beautifully. It's only a car, my husband is irreplaceable. I've been fondly reminiscing about the good times we've had in that car. It feels like this vehicle did me one last good service. I'm almost in mourning for my first, practically-new car.

It was a 2002 Intrepid that we've had for six years. At this ripe age its chief accomplishment was that it was paid for. We suspect that the insurance company will write it off, but I am currently in a state of limbo as to what vehicle I will be driving next. I do have a rental for now and it has no charge mileage on it, so after a stressful week I felt I deserved a trip to the Kitchener-Waterloo Knitter's Fair.

I met up with LisaRae and off we went into the blue horizon. The Fair has such a festival atmosphere and we saw a ton of London knitters there. I thought I'd take in the free classes, but I was seduced by the two ballrooms of vendors.

Over my last summer vacation I had browsed through three different yarn stores without buying a thing, so I thought I'd be safe to go to the fair. I really have no need of more yarn. It's been my mantra "I don't need more yarn." But I claim fall out of stress because I fell.

At first, I only bought a Chibi, a pattern, and some Lantern Moon DPNs, all on sale. But by the end of the day I was pacing feverishly through both ball rooms looking for the Headwater Wool booth where I'd stashed the glorious red lace weight behind some greeny-yellow. In my search, I passed the Yarn Harlot twice, and I never even thought to kinnear her. Of course I wouldn't stop to say Hi because she's famous now and we Canadians leave our celebrities alone. We feel sorry for the poor dears.

(A co-worker told me a story, about how he and his wife had spotted Rick Mercer in a restaurant while on vacation. They asked his waitress and she confirmed Rick's identity. I wanted to know if they'd got an autograph and my co-worker said, "Well no, the man was having lunch.")

I'm sorry I didn't get any pictures for you all, except here's a picture of my sin:

And the red that I snatched out of Lisa's hands when I saw her coming towards me with it. I hope I haven't traumatized her too badly, because she was an awesome companion to take to the fair. She likes linen and cotton and I like wool.

Really, I promise, I'm not going to buy more yarn.


Aw cripes, I just remembered that alpaca I bought at the Harrow Fair. Isn't there a cure for this disease?