Ok, so I am starting...STARTING this blog on December 3rd. We returned from our Ithaca and Chicago trip in fuckin' JUNE. I titled this blog and logged it as a draft on June 24th, and it's just been blank this entire time. But let's get down the details of the day!
This was our last full day in Ithaca. We were set to leave the next day early in the morning, with my dad and Caryn staying at the AirBnB until checkout time. Me and Derek and the kiddos left early the next morning, so we knew this day was going to be our last hurrah in my sweet, wonderful, beautiful home town.
And we were ill prepared for the things I had hoped to do. It was kind of a crappy day, weather wise, and we had been expecting that. At least I had been expecting that. I check the weather like it's my fucking religion, more so when we're out of town. So I wanted us to spend this day doing apple cider tours, brewery tours, and local eateries. But breweries and cider tours needed to be booked in advance, boo. So those were almost entirely a bust.
It didn't stop us from finding other things to do! First up on the agenda: Lively Run Dairy
Look at that little cutie!!! It was raining and kinda cold out, but Rhyann, Alex, and I didn't let that stop us from hamming it up for the goats, chatting at them and marveling at them and generally expressing our delight that they existed in front of us. Rhyann fed one of the baby goats a weed from the fence, and Alex and I headed inside so we could feed the throng of adult goats. I thought I took more videos of us feeding them, but I guess I only have the one:
I lied! I moved all of my videos into a folder dedicated to the Ithaca trip! Hooray for forward thinking! I'm uploading them right now to add, even though really, it's just me cooing at a lamb, and then all of us sans Alex feeding the goats (she was deeply disinterested in feeding the goats). I will be adding them in here, obviously, for posterity.
When we went inside to the actual dairy itself, they were advertising goat yoga:
I don't feel like either of them look very happy. We ordered our cheese flight (two of them!) and headed upstairs to enjoy them together. Again, sans Alex. She was not interested in trying the goat cheeses o the local jams and honeys. Her loss! They were all fantastic. In a fashion truly unlike me, I didn't take any photos of our cheese flights. I really thought I did, but there is no trace of any such photos, on my phone OR on my computer.
The upstairs was pretty great, full of really old books. My dad was delighted by these two gems:
He spent a great deal of time checking them out, he didn't really want to put them away, but he had to. Because there were cheeses to eat. And holy shit, were the cheeses amazing. They ranged in texture, hard to soft, and ranged in age from super young and fresh to...I think about a year? Which reminds me, I'm going to take a tiny break for some truly yummy aged havarti Derek and I bought yesterday.
Delicious.
After the dairy farm, we went to drop off the kiddos back at the AirBnB so us adults could go to a winery for boozes. On the way home, we finally stopped in to the place that had been advertising hand spun, hand dyed yarn with a hand made sign (that I never managed to get a photo of). And what we found absolutely delighted us:
Look at all of those gorgeous, amazing yarns!! These obviously had yet to be balled up...I bet there's a term for that. I tried to look it up, but this isn't the kind of thing my brain is wanting to deep dive for, and after five minutes of semi-fruitless searching (I found other great terms I can use for a little it later in this very blog!), I've decided I'll just call it balling, hanking, or skeining. Depending on the shape. Anyway. They were still just free form yarn rings, left to dry after dyeing TWENTY YEARS BEFORE HAND. So they were a little stiff. And a little musty. But still, amazing.
We went and asked the woman who lived there and was selling all of these yarns how much they were. She told us ten dollars for anything we wanted in the entire place. We were incredulous. And then we took advantage and cleaned house. I bought several loose yarn rings, Rhyann bought some for their sister, and I believe Rhyann also bought themself a little shrug.
I bought that blue and purple scarf!
Look at these yarns!!!!!
I wanted to make sure I got the name of the company so I could maybe do a deep dive into it, see what I could find out. If I had had more time in Ithaca, I would have asked the lady we spoke to if I could spend and hour or two with her, to interview her and photograph her, so I could have something more personal on my blog. She was such a little love, I adored her. And her cat.
There were all of these great infographic mailers that told the story of each yarn, she had them for every color scheme and every yarn weight available.
I think I spent about 50 bucks, it was all the cash I had on me, and I think Rhyann spent about thirty of their own money, and Derek and I covered another twenty for them.
Then we took the kids home for real, and Derek, myself, my dad, and Caryn set out for Six Mile Creek Winery and Distillery to have an adult's day out.
Looks kinda haunted and lackluster, in the ugly light of a cold, rainy day.
It's quite the gorgeous...GORGE-ous...view.
There's my dad and Derek, sitting down to have a wine flight. I believe it was four small glasses per flight? Maybe three, maybe six? It's been so long I can't really recall.
What I can recall was that only ONE was palatable. They were all VERY young, very much not good. My dad enjoyed a few, I think he might have even purchased a bottle to take home.
Speaking of bottles...
I do not trust a rose that's that...blushy. It reminded me of the awful fruit wines from the St. James winery here in Missouri. But something Derek and I DID pick up?
Three bottles of their grape made vodka. To my knowledge, I had never had grape made vodka. We bought three bottles: two to make limoncello, one for just drinking.
And speaking of limoncello, both Caryn AND my traitor husband ordered a shot of their limoncello. Derek said it tasted just like a lemon drop, and it's great for a commercial audience, but that mine was way better. Caryn said it was alright, but couldn't remember mine well enough to compare. Then Caryn tried their arancello. I decided to make some arancello when I got back to Missouri. It is sinfully delicious, and similarly dangerous as my limoncello. It doesn't taste like booze, it just tastes like citrus-y delight.
After Six Mile Creek, my dad and I, knowing it was our last day in Ithaca, wanted to go to Deibler Drive. It's the street I remember the most. It was the third and final place I lived in with both of my parents, and I have so many memories of it. Like my dad telling me someone was buried at the front of the property. Lo and behold, this was not one of my dad's exaggerations to scare his child, this is very, very true:
BOOM, BITCHES! That's a dead person's final resting place. However, the story doesn't necessarily jive with the dates on the grave. If you zoom in, it looks like it says GORDON DEIBLER 1906 - 1978. When I was little, my dad told me that it was the son of the Deiblers, who owned the building we lived in...I think they might have owned the entire street, actually...that was buried there. My dad told me he was struck by lightning on his honeymoon, and his parents brought him back to be with them, burying him close by. But...I do not think that's actually the case.
I think that's Gordon Deibler SENIOR there. I checked the gaveyards in Ithaca/Freeville, and I found the graves of David (the son who, until recently, I assumed was buried at the beginning of the street I grew up on), Gordon Junior, and the waiting burial site of Doreen, the wife of Gordon Junior and the mother of David. I cannot find a grave for Gordon Senior, and I can't find an obituary for David OR Gordon senior. Wild. I think I'll be upset if there isn't SOMEONE'S dead body at the beginning of my old street. 
There she is! The little place I've been dying to take someone to see since I started dating. I've always wanted to take someone to my home. Like a horny little salmon or some shit.
The door on the far left was ours. Somewhere in this yard is a 24k gold earring in the shape of Minnie Mouse that I buried playing PIRATES with my next door neighbor, and which made my mother so angry that she forced me to dig up the entire yard, but the earring was never to be seen again.
Here's a little video of my old home. I wish we had been able to go inside. I really thought about asking my dad and Derek to go up and knock on the door, and ask if we could take a peek inside, but that's how a horror movie should start. So I passed on the idea. I regret it, though. I remember that house as easily as I remember what my room circa now looks like.
After Deibler, we went back to the AirBnB, dropped off my dad and Caryn, picked up Rhyann, and headed back to the yarn barn. Derek and I pulled more cash so I could buy more stuff, and Rhyann wanted to pick up another thing or two, so we headed back. And this time we really investigated.
Look at this! Freshly dyed, but not yet woven! Or milled! Or whichever word is appropriate here! It's still clearly very unprocessed, aside from the dyeing. Which I assumed incorrectly was done AFTER the yarn was...you know...yarned up.
Without any other characteristic features, my spousal unit looks like a little old lady, ready to play some bridge with her nosy neighbor Loretta. They talk a lot of shit about each other, but they also make each other casseroles and enjoy tea several times a week, along with their highly competitive card game nights. Tell me you can't see it.
So all of the machines I've looked at for textile production are mass scale, and I'm having a hard time finding what these things are. My best guess is this is a dyeing machine.
Especially looking at the front, with all of the yarn card names on it.
This is a heavy duty spinning jenny, but not heavy duty enough to be the kind in a textile factory. Still heavy duty, though. You can tell because it isn't made of wood, it's made of...not wood. The hard stuff. Steel, maybe.
Yarn cards!
Revolution, but make it YARN FASHION.
I don't even recall why I took this photo, but I'm leaving it in because I felt it was worth taking at the time.
They won a ribbon!! From the Interlaken Historical Society!!!
Initially, we found a little note on here with a 100 dollar bill from a previous visitor, stating the yarns they bought, and thanking the woman who advertised her wares. We brought that money to the woman after we paid for our purchases. She never would have seen that money.
A yarn ball winder! Honestly, Derek and I should have bought one of THESE for ten bucks, because winding them by hand has proven time consuming and frustrating.
Here are all of the yarns I bought, aren't they gorgeous??
Here is the scarf, which is currently sitting on my headboard, waiting to be worn with my amazing bomber jacket (A trend I've held a love for for the last 11 years):
Here is the sweater that I bought, initially priced at 150 (and worth every penny, the needle work on this is AMAZING) and purchased by me for 10 bucks:
Derek really loved these. They're fingerling weight, and he's really struggling finding anybody that knows how to knit that would be willing to knit him something out of this for next to no money. I have no practice with fingerling weight, but knowing what I know about it, I can't say I blame him.
We've looked these yarns up and have considered selling them all, as they're being sold for about 45 bucks a hank...I guess these are primo yarns? I love knitting, but I rarely do it because I'm always so busy with school, and in the downtime I get from it, I'm either travelling or unwinding (as is the case during winter break. It's only four weeks instead of 16, so I don't engage with much other than video games and maybe the occasional book). I would love to make something with these, have an Ithaca/Interlaken blanket, but we'll see.
After the yarn barn, we had to go to Wegmans. One last time. Derek wanted to pick up a bunch of beer he doesn't have access to where we live:
Impressively, we still have about half of each of these beers. I think the Lakeside Lager might have actually been fully consumed, but there is still a LOT of this left. I thought for sure he would guzzle it all fairly immediately, but he's been really good at spacing out his enjoyment.
And that was pretty much it for the night.
Derek and I got into a fight because Derek likes to needle, and my dad got in on the action and I wound up screaming at Derek and my dad, like, full throttle. It was pretty shitty of them to gang up on me like that, but it was all fine in the morning. I packed my suitcase that night, and Derek and I got ready to leave bright and early in the morning to take the kiddos to Chicago.
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