When we originally planned the Largest Ball of Twine day, it was to make fun of an old trip to Jamestown, NY, when we went to the Lucy Museum for Frank’s birthday.

At the time, my friend, Bobby, said we drove the nine hours, looking for the largest ball of twine, and the name has stuck.

But the search for a seemingly insignificant or individually-interesting-yet-in-an-obscure-place item is the most important part of the journey.

Today, I am reminded it has nothing to do with the destination itself.

We got off the Mass Pike this morning, on route to Pittsfield, but “pitt stopped” in Lee first where i bought an original watercolor for $30 and picked up crystals–everything from joyous ones to some to help others mourn.

Pittsfield itself was enjoyable, a town of a surprisingly high number of art galleries containing wonderful paintings, photographs, and pottery.

Even the side exertions to a glass blower–many dollars later–and a vineyard with apple cider donuts was a treat.

But the real ball of twine was the laughter and the companionship of Bobby, and another friend, Barbara.  The miles we had clocked in the past, and the space between the last trip and this one, and the current energy of the day all intertwined and formed its own destination.  We could have traveled around the block for five hours and had just as much fun.  A lesson to be reminded of over and over.