The escapade


Those of you who watch American television cannot hope to escape commercials. There is one for a town in Nevada, which has a quote that is much over-used.

That would be. “What happens in ***** stays in *****”

Personally, I have never been to that town, and I don’t have the desire to go there. Yet, I have had a mischievous excursion lately.

I have no way to verify this, but I do know that in one certain casino not too far away from here, a woman (myself) sat down and worked on a pair of Anna Makarovna socks. I began the heel turning process, and enjoyed a syrupy sweet cup of coffee.

I also came out a few bucks ahead at the games. I did have fun, but I am not a “crowdy” type of person. Quite a few folks were lucky that they didn’t get jabbed with a knitting needle. But I had fun.

We left for ***** at 2. On the way there, we discussed many things, and came to the distinct conclusion that those who drive us nuts will be nameless for the purposes of our trip.

During the journey, we drove quiet country roads. We saw many harvested fields, and not a lick of snow. (Remarkably rare for January)

We enjoyed ourselves immensely. I was amazed at the size of the complex. It was a resort, spa, convention center, hotel, casino. They had a buffet, live artists, shops, all kinds of perks and the games.

If we had decided to stay the night, we could have had opportunity to see big name Country Artists, and a couple of local artists. We did not stay.

The building was clean and beautiful. Yet I did not want to stay there too long.

You see the noise pollution was horrible. I just could not hear. After awhile, I went to this little café in the complex, and had a bit of a knit. The coffee was horrible, too thick, and way too sweet. But it worked. I picked up the gusset stitches on Anna Makarovna, and had a good time.

Yet, the most fun, more fun than games or anything else, was watching people. There were folks of all sizes, shapes, and ages. Folks from all walks of life. The guards were so interesting as well. Young, sweet, but they meant business. You had to be of age to get in, and they made sure of it. I got a laugh out of one guard, of whom I inquired the best and safest place for a bit of a knit.

Nelson Knit-out in the ParkI doubt he had ever been asked that particular question before.

Money was won, lost, and the lights were beautiful. And one pair of socks had the gusset stitches picked up.

Now, why did we go? What was our purpose? Why did I bring a knitting bag? (Surely the only knitting bag there.)

We were celebrating my hysterectomy. “The parting of the red sea.” Officially and at the ripe old age of 39, I have entered menopause. I had fun, my friend had a good time, and all is well.

a.k.

ps, since I only “get to a casino” every 10 years or so, I’m not worried about getting back to the “games” before my 49th birthday. However, I do have a pair of socks to get knit.

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