Or, I should say, cars, trains and boats.

I asked #1 Son to give me a ride to the train station yesterday morning. Like many teenagers, he’s chronically late, so I planned for an early start. Counting backwards on my fingers and figuring in rush-hour traffic, I thought that leaving at 7:30 should get me to the station with plenty of time to spare before the train left at 8:45. It seemed like a good plan. I like a little bit of leeway and don’t mind waiting. I had yarn and needles in my purse.

At 7:20, we were both ready to go. All I needed to do was feed the cats. Let me just feed the cats and then we’ll go, I said. I can feed the cats in 90 seconds flat. Feeding accomplished, I turned and saw #1 Son — eating a bowl of cereal and drinking a cup of coffee, both poured since the cat feeding started.

Son feeding was not in the schedule at that time. It should have already been accomplished.

Let’s go, please I said. Note the polite delivery.

I’ll admit that it didn’t take him very long to eat. We headed out to his car, where he loaded my bag into an already crammed back end (it’s a station wagon).

Just a sec He said. I want to grab a couple of things. I waited. He came back with a few things he’d pilfered from the house and put them in the back seat. Just one more load he said.

I looked at the clock. I cast on a pair of socks and started knitting.

He came back with an item that in no way would fit into the car given the number of items already in residence. Not a chance. He started juggling things around trying to get it to fit. I didn’t fit. I knit faster.

Maybe you could come back for that later, I said. We’re running a little late.

He wasn’t too happy about that. But he put the thing in the garage and got in the car. We started off. I knit.

He got on the freeway.

It’s rush hour, I said helpfully. Maybe a different route would be faster?

You’ll be fine. You worry too much.

The clock spun towards 8:15. I knit. 8:20. Increase row. 8:25. Knit. Knit. Knit. 8:30.

I started sweating. Just a little.

I don’t think we’re going to make it.

You’ll be fine. You worry too much.

We pulled up in front of the station at (I’m not kidding, here) 8:44. #1 Son grabbed my bag while I ran into the station yelling Seattle train! Seattle train!

I had my reservation, but not my ticket. The man at the ticket counter radioed the train one more! and frantically got my ticket ready. sign here… and here… now RUN!

I grabbed my bag from #1 Son, yelled kiss kiss, I love you! over my shoulder, and RAN!

Down here, down here! The conductor yelled. He opened a door for me, put out the little step, and told me to just sit at a table (it was the dining car) and he’d sort me out later. (But will there be a sorting hat? I wanted to ask.)

No sooner had I sat down than the train left the station. Whew.

And this, of course, almost guaranteed that the Victoria Clipper would be running late. It was 2-1/2 hours late. I don’t ever remember that happening before. But, I’m pleased to report that, after standing (standing) in line for 2-1/2 hours, my feet didn’t hurt. So the new shoes I got for this trip were worth the price!

I was supposed to have a “view room.” The room I was booked into had a view… of the roof. I called the front desk and asked if there was a room available on a higher floor. There was. It’s all the way at the top, and I can see everything forever.

And, as I sat on my balcony sipping tea and watching the lights on the inner harbor, the reason for the day’s close calls and weird connections became abundantly clear as I watched an enormous full moon rise over Victoria.

The socks I started in the car? I frogged them out on the train. It was pretty obvious that I wasn’t paying much attention to what I was doing!

And now I’m off to do a little sight seeing and shopping.

Thanks for the good wishes ya’ll left in the comments. There will be pictures when I get back, but I don’t have any way to download them from my camera right now.