Trains, Plains* and Automobiles

One more post about travelling with Henry. If you look closely, you'll see the knitting content.

On May 12th, I set out, with green monster in tow, for New Brunswick, again. I had been home for two nights. I had enough time to spend one evening vegging and the other, madly washing all my clothes, ensuring that the boy had enough clean undies to get him through the weekend. I didn't spend any time at all with my boy, except for those 6 hours a night when he gets home from work, crawls into bed and falls fast asleep.

Henry and I boarded the train. It was his first trip on the train, it was my first in about 12 years. I had forgotten that train rides are so enjoyable. I settled into a seat with Henry, my packed lunch and my CLAPOTIS (do I need to link that? I'm writing in HTML here, gang, I really don't want to do the linking). I had 4.5 hours of time all to myself. I proceeded to knit up a storm, breaking only to eat and to read a magazine. I had already made significant progress during my trip to the Miramichi, but these hours made a huge difference:

Henry spent most of his time on the train like this:

*Ok, ok, these aren't plains, they are the Tantramar marshes.

He was silent and awestruck for most of the train ride. When he finally started talking, he vividly described a wild fantasy about packing up his kerchief, tying it to a stick and hopping trains from here to British Columbia. I told him that there was a tiny hitch in his plans: He's too short to hop on a train.

We rode the train from Halifax to Moncton, where my cousin picked us up. My cousin's name happens to be the same as Mr. Happy's, but I've always called him Andy. Introductions were made as Andy hadn't met Henry. We went over to Uncle Timmie's, as I was starving after the train ride. Henry ordered a double-double.

We had arranged for a brief meet up with Becca and Troy. Henry has decided that Becca is the best thing since the ball-winder and swift combo. He spent his time at Uncle Timmie's slugging down his coffee and vying for her affection whilst fending off Troy.

Before Henry started real trouble, we decided it was time to go. We bid a fond farewell to Becca and Troy, then Henry, Andy and I hopped in the car and headed off for Woodstock. It had been a long time since Andy and I had been on a road trip together. It was really nice to get to spend some time with him.

Henry wasn't long finding the candy:

That's me, trying to hold him back. It was no use, though. He had already spotted the foam teeth. Here he is, as Andy said, "Henry is acting the fool."

(Lynne? What was that you said about him not having a face?)

It wasn't long after this photo was taken that we stopped on the side of the road for Henry to throw up. I think it was a combo of the motion of the train, the coffee at Uncle Timmie's and the candy. I cleaned him up and fastened him into the back seat. He quickly fell asleep.

It isn't a proper road trip unless someone makes an arse of themselves.