Spending a couple of weeks at my son's house in Quincy, just south of Boston. A visit I try to make annually, ever since my other son helped me begin to recover from travel phobias in 2011. Shaun really opened the world for me the day he said, "Mom, you need to go to Boston and visit Ian. And I will help you get there. All you have to do is agree to go." And I did agree. And I even made a sidetrip to Worcester and spent a weekend doing a private intensive in Saori weaving. Ever since, I have gone on at least two trips each year, sometimes pushing past my comfort zone and gaining new experience.
This year, I don't have any comfort zone challenges in mind. I've had a difficult summer dealing with another old phobia - dental. The wonderful dentist who helped me heal from that lifelong issue died suddenly last year, and I had not yet had a chance to get comfortable with the dentist who took over the practice when I lost a huge filling and had to deal with more dental work than I've had in twelve years - a root canal and crown - and it took ages to get scheduled to have the work done, probably because the tooth wasn't giving me any pain, and there was no sign of infection. I lost the filling in the first days of June and it was mid-September when I had the final appointment.
So while I understand that it was probably quite normal for me to have some echo of my old phobia, some ramped-up anxiety, that anxiety was an undertone that sounded through my whole summer. I have been quite unhappy.
And now, I'm in no mood for envelope-pushing. So I'm sitting here in my son's house, trying to sort myself a bit, renew my joie de vivre. I intended to think of this as a time to write (which I'm really not doing much of) and I also brought a nice selection of finer yarns to do some specific weaving/crochet/knitting explorations (which I am doing.) All in the company of my first-born Ian and his wife Lisa and my granddog Moochie.
There's a nice screened-in front porch where I've been journaling in the early morning.
This is my carry-on suitcase. All that yarn was compactly packed in two slim packing cubes. I've turned it into my portable studio and I love it so much (the accessibility of my yarn and tools, the ability to just close the lid and stow it away) that I'm wondering about doing something like this at home.
And then there's Moochie, a funny little chug (chihuahua pug), keeping me company.