Wednesday, we visited two yarn stores, Gauge and the Knitting Nest. Gauge is smallish and nice with a basic selection of yarns. The Knitting Nest is located in a larger, airy space with tons of wonderful natural lighting. The owner was friendly and helpful -- and there was plenty to look at. We ate dinner at a fabulous (and inexpensive) Mediterranean restaurant called Marakesh. It's on Congress, about a block from the capitol. Yum, yum, yum.
We retreated to the hotel to knit -- which is required when you drive three hours to another city for the sole purpose of visiting yarn stores. Two notes: We stayed in room 908, and we didn't have any alcohol at all.
I did make a trip to the ice machine but got a bit worried on the way back because I wasn't sure about the room number. It didn't help that my key didn't work in the door of 908. I knocked, certain that an angry, hairy man in a bathrobe would open the door and yell at me, but it was just Stephanie.
I did make a trip to the ice machine but got a bit worried on the way back because I wasn't sure about the room number. It didn't help that my key didn't work in the door of 908. I knocked, certain that an angry, hairy man in a bathrobe would open the door and yell at me, but it was just Stephanie.
Interlude:
Just so you don't get bored because I don't have pictures of the places we visited, here's the yarn I purchased while in Austin:
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| Undyed merino wool for spinning (8 oz) |
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| Habu yarn (greener than in the picture) made of silk and finely spun stainless steel. I have grey merino that I'll combine with this to make a scarf. |
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| Two sock yarns to make a fair isle scarf. Pattern by Kieran Foley. |
Return to the Vault
In any case, yesterday morning, Stephanie went to work out and took the good key with her. I ventured downstairs to check out the outdoor pool and decided I wanted to swim. On my way back upstairs, I stopped at the front desk and asked for a new key. The woman asked what room, and I said "308." Name on the account? I gave her a name -- nope, not it. I thought for a while and realized I was in room 908. The woman was not impressed.
New key in hand, I went upstairs to change and headed back downstairs to take a huge, splashy jump into the pool. Unfortunately, I first had to use my keycard to open the gate in the (matching) metal fence. The directions for entering the pool area were very clear: Insert card, turn handle, pull gate. So, that's what I did. Nothing happened. I tried again.
Do you remember this Far Side comic?
Well, a hotel employee walked past and told me I could just reach over and open the gate from the inside. Again, I turned the handle and pulled. Hard. Nothing happened. The guy leaned over and--Ta da!--the gate flew open. Why could he do it and not me? He pulled on the gate......I pulled on the fence.
But wait! The story continues. I splashed around in the pool, dried off, and headed to the restaurant to order breakfast. I read the paper, did most of a crossword, and enjoyed a humongous omelet. The waiter brought the check, and I wrote down my room number. Room 908, right?
Before we checked out, I made a final run downstairs to check email and look up directions to a quilt shop (The Quilt Store -- fabulous, bright, cheery fabrics) and check email. I also returned the ice machine on the ninth floor. When I went back to the room, I saw room 910 and assumed I was in front of 908. I slid my keycard into the lock and saw a flashing red light. I tried again. Nothing. I thought, "Really, why can't this hotel make workable keycards?" The answer is that the hotel's guest was trying to enter room 912. Ay ya yai.
Of course, I immediately told Stephanie what I had done, and she laughed in disbelief. We agreed that I do need a longer summer vacation, possibly involving my being locked into my bedroom. We then went downstairs to check the bill and make sure everything was in order. Interestingly enough, no breakfast had been charged to the account. There were now two people behind the counter: the woman who had made me a new key and an extremely tall man. The man dashed into the restaurant to check the receipts. The woman looked at me and said, "You thought you were in room 308 earlier...."
Yep. I did. And when I signed the breakfast bill, I wrote down that I was staying in 308. Whoever stayed in that room had double the breakfast charges. The woman behind the counter was still unimpressed with me, I was giggling, and Stephanie kept reassuring the man that she had never walked on a bill. At least not until she used her credit card to reserve a room that I was sharing with her!
As we exited the front doors of the hotel, the man behind the counter yelled, "Remember, don't drink and drive!" You, of course, know that I had had no alcohol at all.
All I could stay to Stephanie as we got into the car was this: "Are you glad your son was a student in my class for a year?
In my defense, it's still summer vacation until Monday, Aug. 8 at 8:00 a.m. The kids don't come back until the 18th. I have time to get myself sorted out.
Note: I did consume alcohol in the form of Dried Cherry and Pecan Bread Pudding with Bourbon Cream Sauce later in the day. Try it yourself at the South Congress Cafe, which serves delicious foods during brunch and dinner. I also had a goat cheese salad, but Stephanie and I both discussed the temptation of Carrot Cake French Toast.
In any case, yesterday morning, Stephanie went to work out and took the good key with her. I ventured downstairs to check out the outdoor pool and decided I wanted to swim. On my way back upstairs, I stopped at the front desk and asked for a new key. The woman asked what room, and I said "308." Name on the account? I gave her a name -- nope, not it. I thought for a while and realized I was in room 908. The woman was not impressed.
New key in hand, I went upstairs to change and headed back downstairs to take a huge, splashy jump into the pool. Unfortunately, I first had to use my keycard to open the gate in the (matching) metal fence. The directions for entering the pool area were very clear: Insert card, turn handle, pull gate. So, that's what I did. Nothing happened. I tried again.
Do you remember this Far Side comic?
Well, a hotel employee walked past and told me I could just reach over and open the gate from the inside. Again, I turned the handle and pulled. Hard. Nothing happened. The guy leaned over and--Ta da!--the gate flew open. Why could he do it and not me? He pulled on the gate......I pulled on the fence.
But wait! The story continues. I splashed around in the pool, dried off, and headed to the restaurant to order breakfast. I read the paper, did most of a crossword, and enjoyed a humongous omelet. The waiter brought the check, and I wrote down my room number. Room 908, right?
Before we checked out, I made a final run downstairs to check email and look up directions to a quilt shop (The Quilt Store -- fabulous, bright, cheery fabrics) and check email. I also returned the ice machine on the ninth floor. When I went back to the room, I saw room 910 and assumed I was in front of 908. I slid my keycard into the lock and saw a flashing red light. I tried again. Nothing. I thought, "Really, why can't this hotel make workable keycards?" The answer is that the hotel's guest was trying to enter room 912. Ay ya yai.
Of course, I immediately told Stephanie what I had done, and she laughed in disbelief. We agreed that I do need a longer summer vacation, possibly involving my being locked into my bedroom. We then went downstairs to check the bill and make sure everything was in order. Interestingly enough, no breakfast had been charged to the account. There were now two people behind the counter: the woman who had made me a new key and an extremely tall man. The man dashed into the restaurant to check the receipts. The woman looked at me and said, "You thought you were in room 308 earlier...."
Yep. I did. And when I signed the breakfast bill, I wrote down that I was staying in 308. Whoever stayed in that room had double the breakfast charges. The woman behind the counter was still unimpressed with me, I was giggling, and Stephanie kept reassuring the man that she had never walked on a bill. At least not until she used her credit card to reserve a room that I was sharing with her!
As we exited the front doors of the hotel, the man behind the counter yelled, "Remember, don't drink and drive!" You, of course, know that I had had no alcohol at all.
All I could stay to Stephanie as we got into the car was this: "Are you glad your son was a student in my class for a year?
In my defense, it's still summer vacation until Monday, Aug. 8 at 8:00 a.m. The kids don't come back until the 18th. I have time to get myself sorted out.
Note: I did consume alcohol in the form of Dried Cherry and Pecan Bread Pudding with Bourbon Cream Sauce later in the day. Try it yourself at the South Congress Cafe, which serves delicious foods during brunch and dinner. I also had a goat cheese salad, but Stephanie and I both discussed the temptation of Carrot Cake French Toast.
1 comment:
I've had the Carrot Cake French Toast. Oh so good!!
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