This is what I saw at the fair:
That bag at the left? The gray one? In real life, it was the most beautiful shimmery silver, I wanted to roll in it. I loved fondling the fibers, touching the still-greasy fleece. By the way? Fleece in the grease isn't nearly as nasty as it sounds. I lovedlovedloved the feel of it on my hands.
We also saw some of these:
Forgive the crappy photos - I was using DH's camera and wasn't terribly used to it yet.
There was a picnic at SIL's house, during which The Bug got to run with his cousins, play with toys that weren't his, and ride on Uncle D's motorbike. He loved it. I have the picture in my head (but the camera wasn't handy) and his little mouth open wide in a squeal of joy is one of those things that I hope will flash through my head in my last moments. If it does I can die happy (though not anytime soon, I hope).
Later DH borrowed his sister's Harley and went off with Uncle D for a ride, and the Bug and I went to the river.
I looked for a knitting spot.
Great view, but no place to sit.
Lots of shade, but too far from the river.
Beautiful spot, but too hot in the sun.
Ahhhh, just right.
The Bug slept for the better part of three hours while I wandered and knit. It was heaven.
That evening was dinner on the porch at Uncle J's. The Bug couldn't get enough of the grass. Cousin C showed him how to roll down the hill.
He didn't quite get the concept of the "down the hill" part, and would just roll from side to side in the grass at the bottom.
He ran more in those few days than I think he's done in his whole little life. The trip home was a nightmare of turbulence, bad storms and missed flights, but mostly, we had loads of fun.
Later, there will be fiberotica. (Thanks, Juno, for that great word.)
AND, just WAIT till you see my sockpal package. You will be positively green with envy. :-)
