Savage River?

Last weekend, we made a quick three day getaway to Savage River State Forest in Western Maryland. We took the dog, and he had a great time frolicking in the not-so-savage headwaters of the river. We hiked and read and talked and generally enjoyed our time without tv and computers.

This photo was actually taken when we were on our way out, pup leashed up and ready to load into the car. I left my camera behind in our cabin when we went hiking, but it's probably for the best. The camera can never capture the dappled sunlight through the trees quite the way I remember it.

And so [I'm] back, from outer space*

I really didn't mean to be gone from this space for so long-- after blogging for a while, three weeks' absence seems like a big thing. But I do have a good excuse. I went to London to visit my industrious husband, who has been working there on and off for several months.

I was only in London for eight nights, but the week before I left was spent worrying about leaving. Getting the house perfectly clean and all my clothes in order, sure, but also living with a general low-level anxiety about the whole trip. I'm not the best international traveller I know (that award would go to Brian, or perhaps to my friend Lura, who seems mostly okay with the three planes that it takes her to get to a small town in Mexico, but I digress).

I'm always happy with any trip that I've taken after I arrive at home, with photos and memories of all the wonderful things that I did. And I even get into a pretty good groove after about a week in any location, once I'm comfortable with my options for transportation and dining. This trip was pretty golden, though, with mostly beautiful weather (save for the pouring rain on my first day in town) and lots of great opportunities.

Remind me to tell you about the young women at the preview for Sotheby's spring Impressionist sale (which we got to see thanks to our lovely friend Ann) who couldn't choose between the two Picassos up for auction. Or about Jeff Goldblum and Kevin Spacey in Speed-the-Plow at the Old Vic. Among so many other great memories.

I didn't buy a single thing on this trip. I think I like it better that way. I did get some great photos, though. A few of the usual attractions, like the one of Westminster Abbey above, and approximately 687 of my day at Regent's Park. See below-- how gorgeous was that day?

I came home to an exhausted puppy (he went to a new 'cageless' boarding place) who had somehow misplaced both his collar tags and some of the skin on top of his nose (see below, and please ignore the random turquoise post-it-- don't know how that got there). He's spending today sleeping it off.

I'll be back tomorrow with some crafting content-- knitting is a good coping mechanism for the 'general low-level anxiety' mentioned above.

* On a side note, the title for this post is (obviously) from Gloria Gaynor's group dance function staple "I Will Survive," which seems to pop up at every wedding I've ever attended. When Brian and I got married, I tried to keep the (very wonderful) band from playing it-- I think it's the only song that I asked them not to play. I just think a song about recovering from a breakup doesn't really send the message that you want at a wedding. But then when I was in the house changing out of my dress and into my travelling clothes, what did I hear out the bedroom window (?), but this song, being played down below in the tent. Along with 150 raucous people enjoying the song and dancing manically. So maybe this particular breakup vibe is okay as long as it keeps the party going. Who knows.