New York- Part II

Asking someone if you can come” visit” is actually a strange proposition, except with your parents and your grandparents.  I can’t figure out why they always want to see my crazy butt, but they do.  God Bless ‘em.

But for the rest of your family and friends, it can be awkward.  It’s actually one of the few situations where you invite yourself to someone’s home or personal space.  And you are not only expecting just to see them but also sleep, eat, shower and pee in their space.   This also puts the askee in a strange position, too.  What if they don’t really like you as much as you think they do? I guess they can always say their out of town at that time.  Over the years, I’ve called friends and family to say” I’m going to be in your area, do you want a houseguest?”    I’ve been pretty fortunate, no one has said no. 

Then, there is the issue of how long.  A weekend is a good stint of time.  But I always wonder if I will stink like catfish after 3 days. Or is the saying goldfish?  As long as they have a shower, I try not to…stink that is.

The last issue is housekeeping etiquette.  This one gets me.  Obviously, I clean up after myself and I try to do a little more. I mean this is free room and board.  There should be a little payback.  But if you do all the dishes in the sink are you sending the message that they are a slob. Or do they appreciate it?  Also the sheet issue, do you make the bed or strip the sheets on your last morning?  They always tell you to leave it, but do they really mean it?

So back to my NY story… By the way Deanna had no dishes in the sink.   She didn’t even let me buy her dinner as payback.

When I originally asked Deanna my “Hey I’m in your area, do you want a houseguest?” question.  Her response was “Yes, but that is the weekend of the Sheep & Wool Festival.  Do you want to go?” To which my response was “That sounds awesome”.   When I told a couple of other people about this, they give me a strange look and a snicker.

Let me give you a little background.  Deanna taught me how to knit.  She still knits.  I suck at it but I appreciate it all the same.  Now, the picture I’ve painted of her to this point – savvy, cute New Yorker is not consistent with a typical knitter.    So let me just say, she taught me to knit in a bar at the Plaza at 4:30 on a Friday.  She is one of those cool knitters. She rarely has to look down.  Her fingers just move like they have a mind of their own.  She looks kinda cool knitting in a bar.  I, on the other hand, am not a cool knitter.  I’ve got the needles up next to my face, probably with my tongue hanging out, trying to figure out what I just did wrong.

So on Sunday, we went to the Sheep & Wool Festival.  It was about a 2 hour drive north of the city in a town called Rhinebeck.  And much to my surprise and delight… There were sheep. There was wool.  And there were surprisingly hot men there.  The first guy was shearing the sheep.  Kinda sexy.  Then, there were guys showing sheep and there was a guy working with the sheep and the kids.  We are talking sexy calendar-looking guys.  I was in sheep heaven.   And of course, there was really soft pretty wool and yarns. 

After the festival, we went to a nice little French restaurant.  Being the Midwestern girl that I am, I ordered the Osso Bucco .  With all that livestock around, I had worked up an awesome appetite.

Up next- Bumpkin rides the bus!