When last I left you, I’d been grudgingly allowed to check into my hotel, despite my scandalous lack of male supervision. Determined to confirm the desk clerk’s low opinion of me, I went right back out a little while later (at night, alone, oh the horrors) and headed to my friend’s house. The rest of the evening will remain cloaked in mystery. I can’t actually describe it and so must leave it to your imagination (though I regret to inform you there were no pillow fights, sorry).
There are only few bits of the next day discretion allows me to recount. The first is our visit to Rae’s Yarn Boutique. It is a charming little store, and most of us walked out with with a few goodies to augment our stashes. I, somehow, didn’t buy yarn. I bought fiber. It will be turning into a project somewhere down the line, and I’ll tell you more about it then. The second is our visit to Fork in the Road for lunch. If you’re in Lansing, I highly recommend it (get the tater tots, you can thank me later). The last is my discovery of a perry (that’s like cider, but made with pears instead of apples) by a company called Uncle John’s Fruit House Winery. I saw it on the shelf but was put off by the cartoonish packaging (shallow, I know, but true). But then I tried some and saw the error of my ways. I note this so I can remember to buy more next time I’m in the area (why yes, I do use the blog as a combination journal/calendar/reminder system, why ever do you ask).
Saturday evening and Sunday morning must again go undescribed. We’ll pick back up on Sunday afternoon. I had a bit of time to kill after the festivities, so I headed over to Woven Art. On the way there, I noticed the car was…growling. That’s really the only word for it–a low, constant growling that got louder when I turned the wheel. After a brief phone consultation with The Boy, I checked the power steering fluid, and behold, it was low. I filled it up and the growling stopped. Somewhat reassured, I continued on to the store and procured goodies. Everything was well when I returned to the car, so I did a bit more exploring (game store, book store, dinner) and turned in for the evening.
Before heading out the next morning, I checked the power steering fluid again. It was nearly empty. Strong language followed. But it seemed like it only leaked out when the car sat unused for a while, and I needed to get home. After another phone consultation with The Boy, I decided to get extra power steering fluid and stop frequently to check the level. This was convenient, as Ann Arbor is more or less on the way home, and there were a few things I wanted to check out there. It would be a lovely place tend to the car. I started by heading to Busy Hands (they have no website). They are, alas, closed on Mondays (which I would have known…had they had a website). I clung, limpet-like, to the window and gazed longingly at the yarn. It waved to me in a friendly fashion, but my aversion to crime kept us apart. I consoled myself with lunch across the street at Jolly Pumpkin. This was a very effective technique. Further consolation was had when I realized that there was both a chocolate shop and a used book store just up the block. Thus revived, I continued on my way.
While I was busy bolstering my spirits, the car had been busy leaking–leaking faster. The rate of drip meant that I got to stop at every blasted rest stop along the Ohio turnpike. To make this more fun, the weather turned dramatically nasty and pelted me with heavy snow and gusty winds. It was keen. Loads of fun. Not at all nerve wracking. In any case, I made it safely home. It turned out I needed a new steering rack. I’m not quite sure what a steering rack is, but I gather it is important and you don’t want it taking a holiday as you’re zipping down the highway.
Despite the car’s sudden homicidal streak, the trip was a rousing success. I think I’ll play hooky a bit more often.