Ran Away, Part 2
Published On: September 18, 2012

You know those days where everything just seems to line up and work?  Lots of stuff gets done without any feeling of being rushed or frantic?  Yeah, somehow we managed to have a whole weekend like that.  I’ll do the abbreviated version here.  (Why? Because it’s my website and I totally use it for shameless reminders of where I went when and oh what was that cool restaurant and when did we visit those folks and a whole list of other things.  That’s why.  I totally encourage you to go find a more interesting corner of the internet today if needs be.)

Friday we rolled out of town and headed to Ithaca.  We stopped off at The Brewerie in Erie for dinner.  We’d been meaning to stop in there for ages, but somehow only ever managed to be in town on Sundays, and they’re closed Sundays.  Yummy beer (embarrassingly enough, I liked the watermelon one, which sounds terribly unlikely, but is nonetheless true), good food.  Totally worth driving away from the highway to get to (we seem to go through Erie on the way to other places a lot, and often want to get lunch/dinner and never quite managed to find a place we liked…now we’ve fixed that, so long as we’re not through on Sunday).

Then it was on to The Haunt (I would link but the site plays loud advertisements, it’s easy to find if you need it) for the show.  Jukebox the Ghost was fabulous as always (pretend I inserted a moving and inspiring speech here about how you should go see them, then arrange to go see them, mkay?).  That let out late (or I’m old…I totally wouldn’t discount the old possibility), so it was off to bed.

The next day we figured we’d hit a few of our favorite purveyors of adult beverages.  We’ve been coming here since we were first um…old enough to drink.  Our first stop was Bellwether.  They do amazing and have a resident loaner kitten.  We stocked up on provisions, and headed out again.

On the way to our next stop, boy spotted a sign:

I, I had totally missed the sign (I was busy knitting you see).  A conversation ensued.  It went something like this.

The Boy: You like Schaefer Yarn, don’t you.

Me: Yes, yes indeed I do (this then followed by a brief discourse on their yummy yarns and the projects I’d undertaken therewith).

The Boy: They’re around here, aren’t they?

Me: Yup, hence the alarming size of the bags of yarn that leap into the car when we visit the yarn stores in these parts.

The Boy: Wanna go?

Then came a blur wherein I said I didn’t think it was the sort of place one could just go visit, he mentioned the wee sign, I spluttered incoherent mumblings of joy, and he pointed the car in the right direction.  Which is where we’ll pick up the tale next time.  For while the weekend was streamlined and efficient, it seems my account of it is neither, and I fear I may have rambled on too long.

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