Stitchy McYarnpants

Confessions of a husband-neglecting, cat-shooing, yarn-hoarding knitaholic. But in a good way.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Welp. I’m back.

I’m back from a fantastic European vacation and I couldn’t be more despondent. I’ve been walking around with the imprint of a keyboard on my forehead all day, not from falling asleep on my laptop, but from banging my head on it. Why am I in an office with fluorescent lighting and a dismal view of rain-soaked highway when I could be frolicking in the sunny countryside of southern Spain, basking in a sweeping landscape that’s dotted with olive trees as far as the eye can see? Granted, it’s very hilly there, and with all that frolicking comes wheezing and gasping for air due to my complete and utter lack of physical fitness. But once freed from the bondage of office life, I’d be a fine specimen, wouldn’t I? Sitting on one’s arse and staring at a computer screen all day does not exactly prepare one for such mysterious wonders like “fresh air” and “strenuous walks”, does it?

But I’ll focus on the positives of being back. It was good to get home after such a long time away. I missed Jon and the cats and everyone at home. It’s always fun to come back from vacation to rediscover the life you left behind for a short while. You know how when you’ve been away, even the most familiar sights seems new and a little different? Yeah. I could have sworn our house had a functional porch and front stairs when I left. And I have no recollection of that bright red sign on the front door that says "DANGEROUS BUIDLING" on it. But it looks like I was mistaken, for this is what we were greeted by upon our homecoming.





Huh. It’s so funny, I don’t remember leaving rubble and a smattering of car parts in our front yard when we headed off to the airport. And I sure as heck don’t recall placing a large clump of our porch’s foundation on top of our Bathtub Mary statue.



Must be the jet lag. Either that or a carload of drunken teenagers in a Lincoln! Yep, it seems that although we live one house away from a stop sign, stopping was not on the agenda. Going fast enough to destroy a cement and stone foundation while 50 feet from a stop sign, now that’s more like it! Here are some photos of the night in question, without the safety drawbridge a contractor had to put up. Note the giant slabs of brick, slate and concrete which have been pushed aside like novelty foam rocks from the souvenir shop at Carlsbad Caverns. Take time to admire the regal columns of the porch as they swing like a couple of loose teeth in a toddler’s gaping maw. We may not have ancient ruins like they do in Spain, but we’ve got perfectly good modern ruins right here at home, thank you very much.





Actually, we were aware that the accident had taken place, so it wasn’t a total shock, but still, there's nothing like coming home and finding your front yarn cordoned off by yellow tape. I had spoken to Jon on the second day of vacation (my birthday, coincidentally), and he told us all about it. Earlier that day, I fell during one of those sunny, hilly walks and gave myself a black eye. My sunglasses hit me in the face on impact with the pavement. But because it was my birthday, the innkeepers gave us all some sparkling wine, and despite the days’ events, it was a great birthday.

I sent you all a postcard, which Melanie was kind enough to post. If you haven’t seen it yet, check it out! Also, take a look at her work-in-progress. It’s one hell of a craft project. Full of demony goodness!

More on the actual vacation later, I just wanted to pop in, say hi and hit you with a little drama to get your attention. In a day or two, I'll give you the more tranquil version of our vacation in Spain and how it's citizens and architecture were affected by the Spanish Inquisition. But it went a little something like this: Halleluiah! WHUMP! SMASH! BOOM! AAAAAARGH!!!

But seriously, I did have a great time and I'll share my photos once I'm done uploading and labeling them.

*I should add that no one was hurt in the great Car vs. House debacle, although our neighbor who happened to be walking up the street had to leap into some bushes to escape being hit and she got scraped up a little.