Tuesday, November 09, 2004

No Scones and a Hair-Raising Trip

On Friday morning, I was awakened by a strange noise that sounded like an old fashioned alarm clock or the fire alarm in my elementary school. In my half-awake state I asked my husband “what’s that noise?” In response, he jumped out of bed and answered the phone. It was 7am. The phone never rings that early.

It was my manager. We were supposed to leave that afternoon for the weekend. We were training people on Saturday and Sunday. Those of you familiar with Nova Scotia and Cape Breton Island know that when there is a bad storm, the Canso causeway between the mainland and the island is often closed, or traffic is escorted over the causeway. Apparently, the storm that was passing over us had led to escorted causeway crossings the day before. She wanted to leave early so that if we couldn’t get across we would have time to cancel the training sessions.

I crawled out of bed, threw my clothes and other essentials (i.e. knitting) into my bag, kissed my hubby goodbye and headed off into the rainy, blustery weather. Oh, but before I left, I had to cancel my breakfast date with the Holy Trinity. That was a huge disappointment. I really wanted to see my grandmother again. And I really wanted to have her and my great-aunties over for breakfast.

Despite the manager’s protests, we went the “long” way to Sydney and stopped at Baadeck Yarns. It’s a nice shop. Lots of samples. Very friendly. Very cozy. Bought some yarn. Actually, I bought the same yarn I had been tempted to buy at my LYS, Tangled Skeins. I used the yarn store as the excuse for going the “long” way and I had to justify it by purchasing something! Apparently it wasn’t enough that going the “long” way has a nice new highway as opposed to the “short” way with its nasty, winding, single-lane roads. Truth is, she’s a horrible driver and I didn’t feel like tempting fate on an already treacherous day.

Of course, on the way home, we went the “short” way. She was very chatty so I don’t think she realized that I was quiet because I was scared speechless AND knitless. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I was so scared I couldn’t even knit. I’ve never been so relieved to drive the last leg of a trip. I love my manager and she’s a great traveling companion, and even though we have this totally great, totally whacko say-whatever-you’re-thinking relationship, I can’t bring myself to say what I’m thinking when she’s driving. I know she feels confident of her driving abilities but I really want to blurt out “Holy Rusted Metal, Batman, where the heck did you learn to drive? From watching the Speed Racer?”
Knitting? I can’t even think about the knitting I did on the weekend. I think I’ve got PTSD from the drive. Do you think the eye twitch will be permanent?

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