This Sunday started our first Sunday of the church hunt. Having searched in Fort Wayne for a church where we felt like we belonged gave us a chance to try out different congregations. I was really hoping to find a group of welcoming people to make the sting of missing home a little less painful. The church was promising and I won’t go into length but it wasn’t a fit for us. Communion is a sacred time but I could hardly contain my laughter because in my church handout in bold was written, “Please partake in communion by taking a piece of gluten-free bread.” We will continue the search.

The Sunday continued with me having a hankering for a little crafting. Having packed my sewing machine in deep storage so as to focus on relocating in Seattle and adjusting to a new job I found myself having missing my newfound hobby. Online I located what seemed to be a “quaint” sewing shop near Pike Street where the ferry terminal was located. I knew Steven’s excitement over taking a ferry would allow him to overlook the agony of going to a fabric shop. As we approached the city block this side of town had a very different feel; the kind of anything goes sort of feel. According to the GPS we had found the store but I had trouble locating it because of the glowing sign next door. Still excited I leapt out of the car and through the front door of Stitches. A man behind the counter was gluing googly eyes on a giant peacock feather and smiled at me when I entered. As a former elementary art teacher I can appreciate the fun of googly eyes but I cannot think of a project that would involve a peacock feather. Keeping to myself I ventured further in with Steven in tow behind. After a brief glance at bolts of fabrics I saw rows of sewing patterns. As I flipped through I noticed many different underwear styles for men and women. It is about this time in a fabric store that I brace myself for groans coming from Steven. I thought I heard a chuckle. I decided to ask the guy working about the class schedule. Excitedly he explained the small class sizes and pointed up to the wall where a bag and a pair of undies were hanging demonstrating what the classes taught. I stayed long enough to not be rude, muttered something about “ooh wow… I’ll have to check my schedule and call back” and left the store completely deflated to the muffled snickers of Steven. I am starting to learn how websites can really oversell a company. Now in a grumpy mood I put on my best happy face because Steven had been non stop talking about taking a ferry ride. We drove to where we should park and spent the next twenty minutes or so circling around looking for a parking spot before giving up for a parking garage. I stayed outside the car while Steven went to the kiosk to get the ticket. Apparently my frantic screams and hand waving was not enough to hurry the process as it took sometime for Steven to return with the ticket. As soon as the ticket was on the windshield I bolted for the exit. It was the smelliest garage ever. I could describe the smell but won’t. I am definitely found out this isn’t the cleanest city. It is all about being green but picking up after oneself is a different story. We made it to the terminal, bought our tickets, and were standing in the departure line when out of the blue Steven said, “I am really tired, these tickets are good for a month. Why don’t we go home and watch the Olympics?” I couldn’t have agreed more. It was a long and painful day of feeling out of place and figuring things out. The ferry ride could wait another day.