I keep referring to the past few days as "the weekend," although they were not. When we got home yesterday we regrouped and then met our friends Bonnie and Ron for dinner. They had flown into Newark en route to France and were flying out today, so we met them at their hotel and went out for paella in Newark's Ironbound section.
Getting to the hotel was such a nightmare of convoluted turns and "you can see it but you can't get to it" maneuvers that I am finally ready for the dreaded GPS. More dreaded, however, is trying to find one's way around New Jersey: land of no road signs and many death-defying highways like Route 1&9. Yes, that is 1 AND 9. There is also a route 9, although I don't think I've ever come across the phantom route 1. It must be someplace else.
Then, there is Route 22, where the left lane is the slow lane and where my car was once totaled while I was stopped at a red light. I no longer drive on that road.
While I have been throwing fabric at the wall today, to no avail, Heather Dubreuil, who took my class in Canada, has been busy making art with the fabric she printed. She cheered me immensely by sending me some pictures: here are two of the pieces she created with her gelatin prints.