I remember meeting Tink...

Dear Tink,
Can you forgive me? It's been two weeks since the last post about my trip, and I still haven't got to the driving force behind our drive - meeting you!

I remember the drive from Launceston up towards your place, watching the signposts and taking a wide variety of photos of landscape, sheep and spring lambs, a variety which is united by their blurriness...


I remember driving up the main street of your town, going over the bridges and then spotting your house, and the enormous gasp of envy as we took in its magnificence...

I remember marvelling at our good fortune in finding such a nice B&B so close to the home of the soon-to-be-in-person friend from blogland...


I remember the next morning, after a leisurely breakfast, we assembled the children, the brownies, and the vitally important knitting bags, and wound our way down, and along, and found ourselves at your place..

I remember feeling at home the moment I walked in your kitchen (which by the way is MUCH cleaner and tidier than mine), finding you making bikkies and negotiating with children (the one activity being the cause of the other)..

I remember your pleased surprise when my son gave you the bag he made for you, his first ever machine sewing effort, and you made him so happy when you told him it would be your sock-knitting bag...


I remember talking, and tea and coffee, bikkies and brownies, and laughing, playing show-and-tell with our WIPs, and coveting your Cat Bordhi books, and using my Powers for Good by putting back the Cherry Tree Hill and Jitterbug you showed me...

I remember strolling around your garden admiring the giant camellia trees and commiserating with you on the evils of grassy weeds...


I remember the kids running around outside, climbing trees, calling for someone to push them on the swing, dashing inside again to play with toys or find some lost item that they needed right now...

I remember the awesome ham and cheese muffins you threw together for lunch, and the fruit salad that followed...

I remember seeing the glory of your stash, and touching things like Rowan Tweed for the first time, and using my Powers for Good by putting them back...

I remember the Knit Picks needles and discussing the merits of wood, casein and metal, and dpns versus circulars...

I remember meeting your charming step-mum, who joined the MOMD in distracting the children while we got on with the really important stuff (socks and dishcloths)...


I remember discussing patterns and designers and yarn substitutions and broadband accounts and the wonders of the knitblogosphere...

I remember you whipping up dinner for everyone, and handing me the most enormous glass of wine, and my sorrow at having to leave so early in the evening...

I remember stopping in to say goodbye the next day, and leaving two hours later, with a bag of cuttings from your garden, an armful of prezzies for the kids, and a wonderful feeling of joyful satisfaction at having affirmed our online friendship in person...

I remember the twisted German cast-on you taught me as I began the Stormy Rainbows Broadripple socks with our cuppas on Sunday, and I used it to cast on my Mermaid sock when I got home again, and I bless the stretch as I try on these two socks...

And I love the photo we took to remember our weekend by:


Thank you for such a wonderful time, and I hope we can have even half as much fun when you come to visit us,
Love,
Kate
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