A couple of aborted trips to Boston and several almost-planned weekends in NYC have led me to my current state of agitated, wanderlust-laden entrapment, wherein I feel the pull and push of getting away – anywhere away – growing stronger and stronger. An all-too-brief excursion to the Cape went a small way towards alleviating this, but I need greater distance, newer pastures, and better hotel rooms. The allure of travel hangs in the coming weeks, when the spring kicks in properly. Until then I will bide my time, trying to stay occupied with gardening and home improvement, hoping it will be enough. I fear I’m growing bored – and I need new inspiration. In the garden and in the family room. Or in some hotel far, far away…
