|A fancy hubcap.|
Tomorrow morning well before the crack of dawn I will walk out of the chateau, get on an airplane and fly to a place 3,000 miles away. I won't be back for a week. The weird part is: I'm looking forward to it.
It's weird because I dislike traveling for a number of reasons, especially by air. Earlier in life I had my fair share of hideous travel-at-the-holidays experiences. I might have vowed to never travel at the holidays again, I can't remember, though it's easy to remember how I was at that time in my life - obstreperous, prone to issuing proclamations, pointing and gesticulating. Good lord. I had so much energy then.
Here ye, here ye: the vow is broken. I'm assembling piles of stuff to take with me, thinking and rethinking what I'll need, smiling.
I'm leaving a day earlier than the worst of the holiday travel rush, returning a day after the chaos of the extended weekend - I hope. Last year when I went to Kansas City I timed my visit to fall between T-day and Christmas. My travel part of it was so uneventful, I can't even remember it. All my memories are of my wonderful visit with my sister. This is my hope and prayer for the trip to Oregon. May it be so.
Some people are at ease when they travel, some people love to travel. I am not among them, but I am among those who love to feast, relax, and celebrate in the company of nears and dears. I haven't seen my sister in years. One of my mottos since turning 60 is, What am I waiting for?
Indeed! I love my sister and her family, I love the mountains. Perhaps I won't love the plane ride but I will prevail. L'chaim, y'all. L'chaim.
|I don't really have room inside for plants, but just before the Arctic cold front arrived in DC, my rose begonias bloomed. I couldn't leave them to their fate outdoors. They're lovely!|