So I'm out running around today with Brigid & Co. because somebody was having a birthday. Our mission, should we choose to accept it, was to put Mongolian BBQ in our tummies, and then find a certain woodworking store.
The first part of the mission went off without a hitch. With lunch taken care of, we headed back to the Truck of Doom and consulted Google Maps for final approach instructions to Woodcraft.
The computer, as computers are wont to do, plotted a route that had us convinced it was crazy.
As a digression, today I was wearing one of my favorite shirts from Engrish.com. Because of its color, I tend to accessorize with my p-t.com ball cap and the cheap-o orange-on-black Casio watch* that I bought for the specific purpose of someday using it to troll known horology nerd ToddG.
At one point the road, which looks like it's going to turn into somebody's driveway at any moment, is meandering in a completely uncertain direction and I moaned "Of all the days to not wear my real watch! It has a compass!" whereupon I was reassured that the Truck of Doom had one as well.
In the end, we found the store, tucked away on a practically access-free access road.
And it was magical, full of eldritch engines for the crafting of wonderful things†.
*Because they're all orange, see? It's the closest I come these days to attempting to match my clothing to any kind of coherent color scheme.
I wish Bobbi had been able to come, although the two of us think different things in tool stores: Bobbi will be admiring some esoteric two-handed reverse-bevel dovetail chisel and talking aloud to herself of all the wonderful things she could build with it, and I'll be next to her and hefting the slightly larger model, muttering "Man, you could really **** somebody up with one of these things..."