Yes, yes, I am terribly behind, but here is the story of the rest of my weekend in Chicago...
We woke up bright and early on Saturday to a shockingly warm day (it was at least ten degrees above zero). After a delightful breakfast, we jumped on the El (where we spotted some cool knitwear)
and found ourselves at the Art Institute.
Now I hear tell there's some big painting by a French fellow who was enamored of polka dots,
but I was transfixed by the exhibit of miniature rooms (the Thorne miniatures) which so cleverly and so minutely display the history of interior design from the 17th century through the twentieth:
All at the scale of one foot = one inch. (I had to include the above room, even though the photo isn't the greatest, because it included a spinning wheel, complete with fluff.)
Then we drank deeply of the paintings (yeah, yeah, I love the Impressionists and Post-Impressionists, so sue me for being conventional):
There was plenty more eye-candy at the Institute and Franklin makes a marvelous tour guide.
Then we were off to Loopy Yarns, for a party in honor of President Obama, during which we sorted and counted chemo caps that Knitters for Obama knit and crocheted in honor of the President's late grandmother.
The caps were given to the University of Chicago cancer unit for their patients.
We continued on through Chicago, seeing sights like the water tower,
and finished with a visit to the American Girl flagship store, so I could take some photos and pick up a little something for Miss Thang.
I was shocked to see that there was a beauty parlor for the dolls
and a cafe and doll hospital and all sorts of things designed to charm the heart of an American Girl doll owner, (including this weirdo guy who made funny faces at the dolls).
Somewhere along the way we went by Wrigley
(I expected there to be free Doublemint in baskets by the gate or something, but no, this is just a myth) and we had a lovely dinner with Minjo and VeryBadDogs (from Ravelry) at an Asian restaurant that was way too cool for school (it was so cool we weren't sure they'd seat us since they made clear to us that we just weren't achieving their level of coolness). Then Franklin and I knat, and he even finished his gorgeous twisted-stitch hat
and we went to sleep and had brunch in the morning with more Rav-friends, and then I was off to the airport and back to Philadelphia. Phew. I was left with so many wonderful images in my head:
Now, of course I know some of you (Anne Marie from Philly) will want to know what, er, transpired between Dolores and me. I shall tell you only this; when I arrived, this:
was waiting for me on my bed. As for the rest? Well, gentle readers, Chicago is like Las Vegas in one important respect: What happens there, stays there.