Not So Welcome

One of the fun outings I had this summer was attending Stitches Midwest, just outside of Chicago with members of my knitting group.  I referred to this event with friends and family as a "yarn convention" because it seemed easier for them to understand.  There were classes on various techniques available to take, but basically, we were there to shop.  And shop I did.  I was overwhelmed by all the yarn that surrounded me.  Beautiful yarn.  Lucious yarn.  Soft yarn.  Yarn that was hand dyed, yarn that was hand spun, yarn that was calling my name gently with its siren song.  And then there were all the knitting accessories: things to store your needles in, buttons, pattern holders, lint rollers, yarn stashers.  I wandered around like a country bumpkin who is spending her first day in the big city - wide eyed and a little lost - but knowing that her world will never be the same. 

But enough about yarn.  Because the real story here is about the fabulous weekend spent with my delightful yarn sisters in a lovely home in Hinsdale, Illinois, a suburb of Chicago.  Originally we were going to stay in the hotel attached to the convention center but then we were offered the home of Linda's son.  The family was out of town and they said we could stay.  And the home was absolutely lovely...and in a neighborhood I would never be welcome to live in.  It made the weekend absolutely fantastic!  We sat around and talked and LAUGHED and just enjoyed ourselves immensely as only a whacky bunch of knitters can do. 

I drove up with Linda on Thursday, arriving before the rest of the group, meaning I could have first pick of the bedrooms.  Now several weeks earlier Linda had mentioned that she had informed her youngest grandson, Neil, that her friends were going to be staying at their house and that someone would be sleeping in his bed.  His reply: "I don't like anyone sleeping in my bed."  Linda told him it would be fine.

So when we arrive Linda tells me to head upstairs and that I can choose from either Neil or Paul's (her oldest grandson) bedrooms.  When I entered the first bedroom I immediately knew that it was Neil's.  I laughed out loud, put my stuff in Paul's room and headed back downstairs.  I told Linda, "I think I'll be staying in Paul's room.  You should check out Neil's.  I think he was serious about not wanting anyone to sleep in his bed." 

This is what welcomed us:

A tiny army of soldiers was lined up pointing at the bed. 

The bed was being guarded by Imperial Walkers and you can see that the bed was covered with difficult to move Lego armies.

Here is another shot of the perfect semicircle of soldiers aimed at the bed.

A hill of canons and snipers.

Clearly, Neil had put a great deal of thought and energy into "welcoming" the lucky knitter to his room.  I can't imagine how long it must have taken him to line up all those little soldiers and to create this fortress of protection in his space!  All in all, it's quite subtle wouldn't you say?