Fancy fishing

Long ago, when we were living in the old house, Mr. Gadget built a sewing table for me in the basement. The top was a solid door and along both sides were a total of ten drawers. It was a beautiful thing, and so useful--especially during a time when I was sewing large appliqued banners. I filled the drawers with all sorts of crafty things and, as per my usual, I wasn't very organized about it.

Zoom up to the present time. It took me quite a while to clean out that disorganized mess during the moving preparations. But I was sure the sewing table would be a nice selling feature and quite attractive to potential buyers. That, along with Toad's House, would surely be a draw.

Now I find out that Mr. New Owner is a fisherman. A bass fisherman. He plans to fill my old sewing table with fishing gear. I can only hope when he ventures out on his first fishing trip--you know, one of those testosterone-laden affairs--he doesn't open up his tackle box and find gold sequins among his lures...

So today the sun finally came out and Mr. Gadget and I deemed it a nice enough day for a car ride. We headed north--13 miles to be exact--to the old hotel that will be the site of my next craft fair.

Carol, our usually trusty GPS, took us right there--well, sort of. She can be a real tease. But now I know where it is, so I won't have to rely on unreliable Carol on doll delivery day. Although, I have to say I've kinda missed her authoritative voice--having not heard it since our trek to Wichita last spring.

The hotel is currently in the process of being restored. Many years ago there were quite a number of these railroad hotels in the northeast, located along the rail routes. You can see how close the tracks are to the building. It was a good thing too because back then no one had wheels on their suitcases. And I can only imagine how distressed travelers were not being able to call family, friends, and passing acquaintances on their cell phones to tell them, "we just landed and are taxing to the gate"....or whatever the equivalent is in train-speak.I think there's a good chance this old place is haunted. It just has that look. When I uploaded my pictures, I fully expected to see an orb or two. There could very well have been some otherworldly inhabitants inside who we missed because we arrived before visiting hours. I wonder, could it possibly be the ghost of lost luggage and his equally frightening sidekick the ghost of overweight baggage?