a rose is a rose

After more than a year of uncertainty, medical concerns and treatments, things are much better and Ron's doctors are encouraged. So while he regroups before the next round of appointments in Albuquerque in early November, I am taking the opportunity to give myself a long sabbatical from caregiving and creative inertia and am heading east for an extended stay. This has been an exhausting year for everyone and since now there's an open window, I'm jumping out of it! (figuratively, not literally). My granddaughter's old Bert (he emerged from a dusty box when she and Dante visited recently) is sitting on the bookshelf and represents how I feel at this time.

But Bert usually keeps a positive attitude and, taking my cue, I'm packing and getting ready to leave on the midnight flight to New York tomorrow. Will see friends and family before heading to a hideaway. The challenge is packing (is there room for one more sweater?). And figuring out how to stuff one more ball of yarn into the smallish suitcase. I dislike huge heavy luggage and try to avoid it even if it means I have to leave lots of clothes behind and wear pretty much the same things for several weeks. Of course that means blacks and browns and items that can be dressed up or down. But the yarn. How much do I bring, where will I buy more if needed? For me color reigns supreme in sock yarns -- the wilder and brighter the better. I'm currently working on the second sock in this pair which I intend to keep for myself (unless someone looks longingly and asks nicely).

It's another wonderful Opal sock yarn from the Le Petit Prince collection (The Rose of the Little Prince) and it reminds me of summer and watermelon, sunsets and...roses.

Part of my escape involves continued work on my other GIOs (guilt inducing objects) also known as manuscripts. My publisher has given me three months to get a completed/edited manuscript to her (or else) and I intend to meet that challenge. Meanwhile, I look forward to autumn in the northeast. It's been years since I experienced that seasonal transition in the tri-state area. And it seems there's already a plan afoot to pick apples on Sunday with a 3 1/2 year old.