I have been reluctant to come to this page. Partly, I have let blogging slip so much that this doesn't really feel like my space anymore, and partly because of the enormity of trying to describe my recent adventures. But I have missed this, and so I will just begin.
I mentioned in passing registering for Squam, and then the trip took on a life of its own. I decided to ride the wave of making it into a true adventure, as it seemed such a pity not to see some longed-for sights when I was so close. So Boston, Portland in Maine and Brooke's were added, and a complicated itinerary emerged.
In the lead-up, I kept telling myself I could cancel, and I really felt comfortable with the prospect of shutting the whole thing down at any point. This helped so much with the inner certainty that I could do it, crazily enough, and gave me hope that I could handle anything that came my way on the actual trip.
These weeks since I came home have been full of processing all that occurred. Almost every day, a new memory has drifted to the fore that I had completely forgotten about in the haze of transporting myself safely. I can feel that this isn't half done yet, the reliving of it all, and the prospect of these pearls stretching out into the weeks and months ahead fills me with pride. It's magic, the fact that I had the courage to give myself this and that I successfully did it.
For now, I want to record a memory from each leg of the journey.
In Boston, when I went out for dinner the first evening, I was completely exhilarated at the prospect of eating salad at a local restaurant. It's something completely simple, that I would take for granted at home, yet the blush of travel made every house interesting, every person fascinating and every ray of sunlight cherished.
At Squam, I felt as though I had come home. Everyone had a love of wool coming off them in waves and as I sat on the porch the first evening with my cabinmates, I realised I belonged here, furiously knitting and chattering.
My drive from Portland to Squam was one of the most amazing parts of my trip. I got a lift from a generous Squam attendee, and we travelled these wide country roads, through small towns completely composed of wood. The lawns surrounding every building seemed endless and gave me such a feeling of possiblity.
Brooke's was completely surreal, being so familiar with her photos. I spent a lot of time reading, as there was a bookcase full of treasures in my room. Lounging on the couch in the cool, as the sun blazed outside, felt so luxurious.