In which our heroine drives over 1,055 miles in two days, collects 7 pressed pennies, knits a purse, visits a town called Turkeyville, calls a dance, loses her voice, grades 42 quizzes while driving 70 mph down the highway, and finally pours herself a giant vodka and cranberry before collapsing into a gibbering state on the floor.
Oh, and there was souvenir yarn:
From Threadbear in Lansing, MI. In Mardi Gras colors, because there's never enough Mardi Gras knitting.
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Do you knit and drive at the same time or was someone else manning the wheel? (!) I knit in traffic jams, I think that may be one sign of a burgeoning addict. They should put warnings on yarn labels like they do on cigarette packs. Sounds like you lead a very full life!
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