Still alive, still at home (T-minus four weeks) ... just stepped away from the Internet for an embarrassingly long while. Have been meaning to update my LJ, with high priority matched only by equipment shopping and training, for nearly all of it. Goes to show, the top of my to-do list really isn't a happy place to be.
In an attempt to make this post slightly less content-free, here's something I cobbled together from the magnetic poetry set on our cabinet (overflow from our fridge) earlier today while eating snacks-in-lieu-of-lunch:Oh gentle dream, adore the look
Which, nearing thee, haunts
And that gaze, find wild if not cherish'd
Somehow, that seems premonitory (the adjective form of "premonition"; a useful word, if odd-sounding to American ears -- I picked it up from Bill Bryson
today) of my upcoming trip. I'm not sure whether this is because my subconscious is inserting the trail into everything that I do, or because my conscious is interpreting it in everything I see.
So much to write. So much to write. In the meantime, big gear expedition tomorrow with kadyg