Monday, Monday

First "normal" day after the hols, ie 'imself went back to work having decided that he might just live this time, and I allowed myself another lie-in and then had a few tasks set.
The major one being the twice-yearly Sort-Out of Clothes. If I had another room, or more cupboards....I would be so happy. but as it is, I have to do a seasonal change-over twice a year, and I absolutely hate it. I always know that as soon as I do it, the weather will revert (not quite so certain of that this year....) and I will need something packed away. Then, I look at all the limp rags hanging there in vibrant shades of brown, grey, black, navy and aubergine, and think - blech. However, on the odd occasions I do go mad and purchase something in a pastel or bright colour, I usually regret it afterward. So- there I am thinking that I do most surely wish that I could just bin the lot and Go Shopping...But sanity (!!??) always prevails and I don't. Well, actually, I might just pop in to my favourite place in Manchester on Saturday as we will be right there. Anyhow, it's done, there's a pile of stuff to get rid of and another that I might just put on eBay - some of it is quite nice and also quite unworn, some of those purchases, you know.

And it is grey, grey, grey - and raining. Sigh.

Final holiday report installment. After SOAR, we went to spend a night with an old friend and his second, American wife at their new B&B establishment. Very nice, and well-done. But ohygawd, it's going to kill their marriage if they (he) aren't careful. Playing an affable mine host from the old country as contribution to everything that needs to be done is not cutting it. Especially as it was all his idea anyway.

After that, we nearly killed off our marriage, by a massive miscommunication, but have somehow survived. Way too long a drive up to near the edge of the Catskills, ending up in a rather sad little town that did not cater to many foreign transients. The motel was ok, but when I say that supper that night was a Filet o' fish from McDonalds (whatever that was, it was unidentifiable as anything other than rather thick wallpaper paste)...Need I say more? The next day found us again at one another's throats until we reached a rather nice little place called, I believe, Phoenicia, where I seem to remember wailing pathetically that I needed a nice bowl of home-made soup. Whereupon my beloved in desperation dragged me in to the nearest cafe which had - just that, and a wonderful toasted cheese sarnie and I recovered and so did he and we seem to have lived to tell the tale.

That night, we fetched up in an absolutely charming motel in Woodstock, which is another nice place, although not well-endowed with eateries either, at least out of season it isn't. But it has a nice yarn shop, and a fabulous bead shop. And not too far away a pleasant little State park, with easy walking trails. And the sun shone and it was lovely.
More political conversations at both these places, probably not surprisingly! I did start to wonder if this was one of the reasons why this trip had had a bit of an edge to it - not far enough away from "real life"?

For our last night, we drove down to Connecticut to finally, finally fulfill our ambition of visiting Bloodroot. I don't really want to say too much in what is after all a public forum about a private visit. Except that it was wonderful, interesting, an oasis, a refuge, and that the welcome and the hospitality we received were terrific. I wish there were more places like it in the world.

And now we are home.

gw