Shampoo should not smell like motor oil. Even if it is free.

We quickly settled into our hotel (I always let my dear husband make the travel plans; he picks places that I would have ruled out as way too expensive...) and between the indoor pool, the dinner-plate-sized shower head and the room service breakfast (just coffee and one bakery basket; don't want to have to dig into those college funds to pay for breakfast), the kids had the time of their lives.

I have been expounding to Tom my theory that this was a hotel designed by men for men. To wit:

• the decor is entirely in taupe and brown -- not a splash of color anywhere;
• everything is rectangular and angular -- no curves;
• mirrors everywhere (only men are conceited enough to want to watch themselves take a dump)
• coffee table book devoted to duck decoys
• proliferation of Sharpie art
  

(this is a large wall installation that cannot be anything other than a fabric panel scribbled upon with Sharpies)

• and yes, shampoo that smells like motor oil.
  

Not complaining, mind you -- it's a very, very luxurious place and we had a blast. (We have been debating whether the newfangled shower without a shower door is also male-centric, my theory being that women feel vulnerable in the shower and like an enclosed space, whereas Tom thinks that Janet Leigh's shower door didn't do her much good.)

I have not been to Washington, D.C. since the early 90s, when I was sent here for some kind of document review back in my lawyer days. It's really fun to see the city through fresh eyes, and through the eyes of my kids.

Day 1 (which was only a half-day after driving and checking in and having lunch) was a trip to one end of the Mall to enjoy the sunshine and see some of the monuments:







The above two shots are the relatively new (2004?) World War II monument. We were a little skeptical of it until we got to it and walked around. By the time we'd read the very moving quotations from that time, seen the battlefield names carved into stone, and looked at the friezes showing the struggles faced by ordinary Americans,



we decided we quite liked it. That is Rosie the Riveter above; yes, I did earnestly search the friezes to see if there were any women knitting socks or helmet liners, but alas, this did not seem to be included anywhere. (I mean, really, is the Charleston more culturally significant to the war effort than knitting? I think not.)

I found the Vietnam War Memorial especially moving. It's interesting to think about how controversial the memorial was considered initially, and how integral a part of the Mall it feels now. Seeing each name etched in the dark wall is incredibly solemn, and seeing other people around you experience it, like the man taking a rubbing here
made me nearly blubber out loud.





Our second day began at the Air & Space Museum





but it was very, very crowded and probably a little too old for the twins. They were more excited about the McDonald's in the museum (sigh):



We then walked the Mall some more, heading toward the Capitol:

and made an unexpected detour into the Botanical Garden that was off to the side near the Capitol. Miss Thang enjoyed posing (here, she is vogueing in the cactus room):





More swimming and a delicious dinner of Thai food helped us recharge.

Today was our last day. We headed over to the Smithsonian again, to the American History Museum. The twins lasted for a while, long enough to see some of the cultural treasures, like the adorable dollhouse:


Kermit the Frog:




and the ruby slippers from the Wizard of Oz, and the Seinfeld puffy shirt, and of course the Steven Colbert portrait:

We circled back to see the White House

(although, sadly, there was no Obama sighting), and then, after our drive home, we were reunited with The Bun:


All in all, a memorable and enjoyable trip, although we are all glad to be home.

Home again

We are back home, buried in piles of laundry and messiness, but it does feel good to sleep in my own bed again. The kids caught some kind of sore throat thing toward the end of the week, and I think even they were ready to be home once more.

I've got a zillion things to catch up on, but one thing I did actually make some progress on was a sweater that's been accepted for KnitScene. I'm very excited about it, because this is a design I've been playing around with for a while and I think it's going to be a fun, fairly quick knit -- and one that newbie knitters will enjoy because it produces a professional-looking result yet is easy to knit.

I've got lots and lots of dyeing to do, too, and I've got some roving soaking so I can do a spinner's update later this week.

So for now, I will leave you with the last batch of vacation photos:

Goat (for Mindy) from the Cape May Zoo.


Some kind of cavy (relative of the guinea pig), maybe a mara?


Cleome from the zoo.


Little Miss poses.


The Slowskys.




Alpaca cushing.



N. waits for lunch.



The now-traditional kite-flying.




Father -n- son.



Ravelry on the beach.

More beauty

Before we left for home the day after our splendiferous visit to WEBS, Elvis and I made a slight detour to the Magic Wings butterfly conservatory.



Wow.



Magic Wings is a large greenhouse full of tropical plants (and feeders, like the one below that looks like a strawberry daiquiri).


Butterflies have the run of the place.



They dive-bomb you, they sometimes perch on your clothes, they flit and flutter everywhere around you.



And they come in every color and size.



Do not be fooled by this guy (below); this is not a photo of a leaf, but rather the butterfly's protective coloring on the underside of its wings so that when it perches, it will be unnoticed by predators.



If I hadn't seen the butterfly land, it certainly would have fooled me. Here's another butterfly's camouflage, including "eyespots" which are supposed to fool predators into thinking that the butterfly is an animal with multiple scary eyes. (This guy was bright blue inside but he didn't settle down long enough for us to photograph his colorful side.)


We were entranced by the place and would have stayed much longer if we didn't have a long drive ahead of us.


I had never seen butterflies with translucent wings like some of them had -- and I never imagined being able to take such close-up shots of these unusual creatures. If you are in the South Deerfield, MA area, it's definitely worth a stop.

Oh yes, we met Akbar the tropical bird, too, as well as a turtle, quail chicks and some skinks. You'll be pleased to know, however, that there were no skanks.


Present company excepted, of course.

Exceeded expectations

Not to brag or anything, but I've been to a few yarn shops in my time. I've been to every Stitches for the last decade. I worked at a yarn shop for five years. I sell yarn out of my house! And so when I tell you, nay admonish you, that you simply must go to WEBS, you must believe me.

My expectations were high, I'll admit it. So when I drove up to that cheery blue awning, I was a little nervous. Could a yarn shop possibly live up to all the hype? I mean, this place has "www.yarn.com" as its URL. Would I be disappointed?


I didn't have to worry. For inside was the biggest, most amazing yarn shop I've ever been in. Ever. When I tell you that WEBS has everything, I mean everything: from Araucania to Zitron with everything in between. It is truly a knitter's nirvana.

The first thing I saw was a lovely table (with fresh flowers!) with Knit So Fine beautifully displayed on it.


I was distracted from the huge selection of yarns in the front room by some of the kindest, warmest people that ever graced a yarn shop, like Karen and Cirilla (did I spell it right? it's such a pretty name to go with that gorgeous face) and Gail (we're going to talk dye) and I even got to meet Pixie the crochet goddess, of webcast fame.

They plied us with popsicles (what we Philadelphians call "wadder ice") and lemonade and chilled spring water, and didn't make fun of me at all when I spent fifteen minutes looking around me with wide eyes, blubbering incoherently in shock and awe. But I had been forewarned by my crack research team to go straight for Teh Back Room, so as soon as I regained the power of intelligible speech, I asked Karen if she'd pretty-please take me there.

I'd heard, you see, that there are grocery store shopping carts (what old-school Philadelphians call "coaches") in Teh Back Room and quite honestly, I thought people were just joshing me (you know, like when you tell someone that the word "gullible" isn't in the dictionary?).



There are shopping carts in Teh Back Room.

Gentle readers, I filled mine.



My able assistant Elvis, who did a bang-up job of reading the map the whole way (saved me about twenty bucks' worth of gas in wrong turns, too) helped me traverse the aisles. You can't imagine what it's like. You look up one aisle,



and it's all Adrienne Vittadini closeouts (did I miss the announcement that they are no more?) in those luscious subtle colors they do did so well. Across from you are discontinued colors of some amazing yarn, say Berroco Pure Merino (you were right about that one, Franklin, it's a great yarn). Then something catches your eye and it's some fab Rowan yarn that you can't live without. Then, of course, I simply had to throw in a couple skeins of Nashua Superwash for the homeless veterans (you know how much I love my country).



It was insane.

Elvis, who is not the seasoned yarn shopper that I am, retired to the couch area to eat homemade brownies (thanks, Carol!).



I then tried to work my way through the front part of the store, but it was really just too much, even for me. I managed to snag some pattern books that I'd been ogling -- the new Elsebeth Lavold, Norah Gaughan No. 3 and Noro Joy were among them -- and then I met Hyphenated Carol's posse.



Kris and blogless Sara (no 'H') were fun and I've loved Carol for a while now, and I greatly, greatly appreciated that they drove all the way from Boston to see me. I also made a new friend, Knitting Dragon, who was on a massive road trip of his own:



And I got to meet Some Bunnys Love who is a Ravelry pal. (FYI, Mr. Some Bunnys Love: she did the right thing in bringing all the bunny photos. I loved them!)

Karen gave me the full tour (yes, WEBS is so big there are entire WINGS in addition to the store and Teh Back Room) and did everything but teach me the secret WEBS employee handshake (maybe next time?). I quite love Karen. I gave her three hugs before I left and I still think I owe her about two or three more hugs.

So when I tell you that you simply must go upstairs right now, pack a little bag (only a little one; you want to make sure there's lots of room in the trunk for all the yarn you're going to bring home) and pull out the atlas and find the fastest route to Northampton, MA, I'm not kidding. Even if you live in Togo or lower east Anchorage and you think you don't need to go to the real shop, because WEBS has a kick-ass website, let me tell you a little secret: there's stuff in the shop that is not on the website.

It's true.


Even Elvis wants to come back. After some amazing ice cream in charming Northampton, a dip in the outdoor pool AND the indoor pool



and several quarters in the Austin Powers pinball machine later,



he was in heaven, too. The next morning, I found Elvis filling out the hotel "How was your stay?" postcard. Where it said "How likely will you stay in this hotel again?" he had checked "Very likely."


Something tells me Elvis and I will be making that drive again real soon...

Thanks, Kathy and all the WEBS folks, for such a special visit! And thanks to the folks who came to the booksigning, too! Y'all rock.