Road Trip 2010

It's been quite an interesting few days in the life of Faith (and any of the poor people who have to put up with me. Sorry Mom!) Not all bad, but all somehow steeped in emotion.

First, Mom and I took an extra day on our way to Pittsburgh (my home for the summer) to visit a very special area of the world.

Ok, yes, it's Ohio. Maybe not that exciting to you. But in my life it is very important. I was born in Ohio. Zanesville to be exact. And I've never been back. It's only two and a half or so hours away from Pittsburgh, so it was the perfect opportunity. I was so little when we moved that I have no memory of the area other than vague impressions of a quilt and being carried down stairs that could be faint infant impressions or fabricated memories from stories.

(Mom calls this my European shot. Squinting courtesy of early morning sunlight)

In any case, we found the town to be both the same and changed from how Mom remembered it. The hospital had changed names.

But the house I was brought home to was still the same (2 miles off of any paved roads and in the middle of state game lands).

We even found the site of my first acting role. My parents were in a production of Carousel (Dad, of course, was Billy Bigilow and Mom was in the chorus) in Coshocton. I guess my natural acting ability was recognized early on.

Our last stop in our mini tour was Dresden, the official town of my first year of life.

It is also the home of Longaberger baskets. The town is a little basket obsessed. I ended up buying a little pin at a shop on the way out of town. It's a basket, of course, and made by a company in town.

(yes, that's a real house next to that basket)

(Who says your trash can't be stylish too)

We took many more pictures, but I'm sure your browser would rather I took some sort of pity on it. Mom helped me move into my summer sublet yesterday and today we did last minute errands before she left. So of course, we found the local yarn shop.

This is just one small part of the shop. The place was huge. I touched so much yarn, it was amazing. And Rochelle, the woman who was running the store, was so nice to us. I think she sensed the panic Mom and I both had just beneath the surface (nothing blog worthy, just over all scary) and immediately took me under her wing. She gave me coffee and showed me around, understanding that I literally have no yarn money but reassuring me that I can come any time they are open to sit on the couch and knit. As my aunt told my mom, somehow you can always find nice people in yarn shops. I'm fairly certain that I'll be sacrificing some food money and hanging out here as much as I can.

And now I really must get back to this sock. Though I have another shawl that needs my attention.

Remember: Knitting needles are for knitting. And skewering dried fruit when you spill the bag making giant trail mix to pass the time in construction.