Hunting and Gathering

I leave for Coleraine, Northern Ireland in five days. Until then, I am picking up bits and pieces from the floor -- scraps of paper, photographs, trinkets and treasures I cannot live without -- to pack away into my suitcase. I haven't done official Momma-approved packing yet, but here is what I will not leave without (for now):
-moleskine notebook and sketchbook complete with all my jumbled thoughts and doodlings from 2008
-new green journal (thanks, Kat/Cha-Cha/Aunt Tere/Uncle Matt/Andrew)
-"peace, love, and happiness" bracelet from the Momma person
-polaroid camera
-pens, oil pastels, arty stuff, blah blah
-mood ring

Okay, so I haven't got much yet.

I am also searching out old and new friends to say goodbyes. It will only be three months. Three months is a trimester. It's the estimated recovery time for ankle surgery. It's a quarter year. Really, three months is nothing at all, but considering that I've never spent more than six weeks away from home, three months is a mountain.

I welcome the climb. After a summer in Chapel Hill peppered with adventures, and a brief fall sprinkled with confusion (but mostly peppered with spilled table salt from Spanky's), I could use a change. Actually, now I could use a total transplant, and here it comes.