It's funny how when one is driving, the pavement feels perfectly smooth, but just try to slip a US1 needle into a yarn-over while riding in the same car on the same road. Every stitch becomes a little challenge. I'm sure my gauge is suffering. Then add a book-on-tape (Last Picture Show, by Larry McMurtry) and I'm left hoping I am following the lace chart correctly. The Embossed Leaves socks look okay, ready for the toes, but I'm afraid to inspect them too closely.
When not on the road, we are being tourists. Crossing the border into Canada made me oddly anxious. We were doing fine until the customs guy asked "Yah cah?" Excuse me? "YAH CAH?" Blank look on my face. "IS THAT YAH CAH?" Oh! Yes! Yes it is. He let us go, as I am obviously too dumb to be a terrorist.
Then came the search for accommodations. I had a coupon for the Radisson but they had no more two-bed rooms.
I tried the Marriott but could not talk them down to an affordable price. We ended up at the Holiday Inn, with this view from our room.
And that was okay, even though we had to watch the fireworks in the reflection of the windows across the way. After all, you get what you pay for.
The next day, the question was how many more pictures could I take of moving water. The answer is somewhere around 100. Don't worry - I'm not going to force you to view them all. Through the magic of photo stitchery, here are about 14 shots, reduced to two panoramic views.
The top of Horseshoe Falls:
The American Falls on the left, Horseshoe Falls on the right:
After a while, I tired of misty photographs. One of the things I enjoy about being a tourist is watching the other tourists. The variety of dress and Babel of languages and accents just add to the fun.
One woman wore a hat that looked crocheted, but I didn't have the nerve to ask for a photo. Nor did I get a chance to snap a pic of the T-shirt that read "I may be fat, but my cock is huge" or the one that advertised WhatMormonsDontTell.com. It's a wild, wonderful, strange world out there.