Drank the last of our Thanksgiving leftovers and tricked my family into an all-day yarn boondoggle.
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I'll start with the leftovers, as the boondoggle requires much explanation and you may bail before getting to the drink.
Pear- Lemon-Sage Martinis
Because why let the last of the fresh herbs go to waste...
In the bottom of each glass add a squirt of lemon and a sage leaf and muddle.
In a jigger (this makes two): 4 oz spiced pear vodka (regular pear would work), 1.5 oz vermouth and two drops of lemon bitters, plus 4-5 ice cubes. Shake. Pour over the sage and lemon juice and add a strip of lemon zest.
If you make yourself one, you may have the patience to read the rest of this blog post. Or not.
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See, I've been dying to get to Harrisville Designs, way the fuck up in NH, and there just isn't enough time in a school day to get there and back before pickup. It finally dawned on me that the only way I was getting up there was to plan a day and convince my family that it was going to be a day with a little fun for all.
I went on the internet and planned such a day. It started with an awesome diner lunch (we love diners), and included a quaint town to explore, a gorgeous hike, a post-hike pie stop at a second diner, and maybe a little bit of yarn. Just a side stop for it on this otherwise great day, right?
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Lunch at the world's shiniest diner was great. Maya had homemade pot pie and Craig had a meatloaf sandwich.
Everyone loved this joint and it was kind of awesome. The bathroom doors were old coke machines you could open. Very cool.
The next stop was Harrisville, which was billed on some of the websites I checked as a quaint village. The drive is long and beautiful, but loooong. You drive up and the first thing you see is the mill, so we stopped, fought each other for first into the bathroom, and went in for a bit. It's a gorgeous shop, and the yarns are addictive, so we may have been there for about an hour.
Then it was time for the exploring, which didn't go as planned. Quaint villages are supposed to have shops and a sidewalk and maybe a bookstore, right? Not this one. It's a yarn shop and a general store. Both of which are awesome, but people, that's IT. Walking along the main road was a little death defying, so exploring on foot was out. My family was not pleased with me and cried foul.
This here photo sums it up. Pretty, yes. Entertaining? Not so much.
We took a lot of pictures and walked around the mill buildings, and then I bribed them with amazing cookies from the general store.
However, I did find what I wanted: The perfect red tweed. Plus yarn for colorwork mittens for everyone, as they got carried away in the colors and I did owe them for their troubles. The orange/blue/pink is Maya, and the blue/purple/green is Zoe. The other's mine.
While in the shop, I met a knitter buying yarn to make Allegheny! How funny is that? Maya was floored that I was recognized by a stranger in a yarn shop, and my status has gone from totally dorky to maybe a little bit cool in the big one's eyes. So, nice knitter from NH, if you are reading this, I thank you for my newly earned pre-teen respect and hope you enjoy your Allegheny!
Here was the haul.
We drove a little and finally gave up on finding trails for hiking or spots to explore on foot, and as it was getting late, we drove back towards Boston. And even though everyone was in a good mood, they were fully aware that we'd done nothing all day but eat, drive and buy yarn. So I was happy to see this sign on the way back.
There was skeeball and air hockey and we won lots of stupid little tickets you can redeem for crap.
You don't grow up in New Jersey without a love for skeeball. Talent's another story, but we do love to play.
Maya kicked my ass at air hockey and Zoe got glowy bracelets with her tickets.
The second diner was close by, so it was time for pie. The pies were good.
We did wander around this town for a little bit, admiring the rural New Hampshire style holiday cheer.
We actually had a great time, even though my well laid hiking and exploring plans all fell through. But I have a feeling they aren't going to believe me the next time I bill a great family outing that may just involve a yarn detour.
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