Squam Art Workshops

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This time last week I was getting ready to wake up early the next morning to travel to Squam Lake in New Hampshire for the Squam Art Workshops. Andrea and Cheryl and I were the flying half of the Canadian contingent. We woke up at OMG-WTF-WERE-WE-THINKING o’clock in the morning to catch the Porter Airlines flight that NO ONE flies. Which got us into Boston and in our rental car shortly after rush hour.

Squam 2011

Quick drive up I-93 and we were registered and lying on the dock with our feet in the water in no time.

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Cheryl, a little excited.
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Andrea's natural state of being

It was an incredible few days. We lived here:

Squam 2011

Jonatha sang.

Squam 2011

(I was way too shy to be all fan-girly and tell her how long I’ve loved her music and how I first heard Bruce Cockburn talk about her on the radio when I lived in New Hampshire, ran out and bought Plumb and have spent the past 16 years stalking the folk section of every record store I go into — while shoving yarn into her hand.  Sigh.)

I learned that I hate to sew.  I love fabric and thread and all things fibre.  I love the finished product.  But the actually sitting down at the machine and sewing?  Not my thing.

Gudrun ensured that I will NEVER have to sew in a sleeve again, and that there is no excuse for me not to have well-fitting sleeve caps or sleeves that are ridiculously long.

Squam 2011

Cat blew my mind open.

Squam 2011

Doesn’t look like much, I know, but there is so much learning and discovery in those little stitches. (Yes Cat, I recorded everything I did!)

There were blurry knitters…

Squam 2011

And not so blurry ones.

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Megan sold yarn at the Marketplace.

Squam 2011

Natalie sold her patterns and some of our yarn…and tried very hard not to notice me taking photos of her booth.

Squam 2011

There was colour inspiration.

Squam 2011

Squam 2011

And then it was time to leave. On our way back, we decided to take a whirlwind side trip to Portsmouth NH, where I lived for 2 years.

Squam 2011

My little town has grown up.

Squam 2011

Nineteen minutes in Portsmouth, and then it was time to hit the airport.

So, you know how you need to be at the airport 2 hours ahead of time for international flights? Well, we fully intended to be. We left Portsmouth a little late, I fully admit. But not that late. And nothing could have prepared us for the perfect storm of a disaster that was graduation weekend in Boston. Combined with lane closures on the highway. Mixed in with regular weekend traffic. But I really think it was the ambulance wailing up behind us and the subsequent harried shuffling of cars that declared we were in big trouble.

We were going to miss our flight.

Seriously. It was a conspiracy. Someone is going to write a sitcom about the rental car shuttle bus. That stopped at EVERY. SINGLE. STOP. whether it needed to or not. And really? We got the TRAINING shuttle? With the trainee driver, who was also learning english.

Head. Desk.

Cue the German mother and son with 10. Yes, you heard that right TEN pieces of luggage. Including hockey sticks. And a saxophone. That explosion you heard round the world? That was Andrea having an aneurysm.

Which explains what happened next. Andrea, running up to the counter frantically waving her arms insisting that she needed to get to BOSTON NOW. Yes. Boston. The city we were currently in. Not Toronto, where our families and lives were waiting for us.

Whatever she said next, worked. The lovely Dionne from Porter Airlines got us on our flight, and seemed slightly confused that we were so happy about it. The Homeland Security guy even laughed as we quickly told him our story on our way through the body scan machines at security. Heck, we even had time to do some last minute souvenir shopping before getting on the plane.

Squam 2011

Also: almost missing your flight means you get your beer first.

Squam 2011

By the way, Cheryl, Andrea and I swore a blood oath not to ever EVER tell you we missed our plane. Taking that secret to the grave.

Not missing our flight, after arriving at the airport 35 minutes before takeoff? No chance in hell we’re keeping THAT a secret!


6 thoughts on “Squam Art Workshops

  1. Best flying story I’ve heard in a long time. My dad has a good one about missing the ferry from Vancouver Island back to Vancouver and having to check into a hotel with 2 women and no luggage. 🙂

  2. Looks like a great trip Kim..love the photo of the house near the bottom. Its the same colour as the Don’t hurt the Money I think.

  3. AHHHH!!!! My Trip back to North Bay was just as scary! It included nearly making the earlier flight to NB from TO but not. Then waiting 5 1/2 hours in the airport to find out yes they did squeeze me on to the earlier flight even though they said they didn’t. Finally, because I was techinically booked on the earlier flight, they didn’t have me checked in on the LAST FLIGHT OF THE NIGHT so the gate attendant had to literally flag down they plane while they sorted it out. Yeah, door closed, starting to leave and she made them stop so I could get on. I did get my luggage though surprozingly enough! Glad to know I was not the only distressed traveller in the air!

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