blankets, wintry-wishes, and your memory as a travel bag

Hello old friend.
I've neglected you since coming home.

With the shift in season has come a shift in mood, a desire to hibernate like a bear underneath a pile of familiar blankets from my childhood.

Incidentally, I've developed an uncommon attraction to photos of warm blankets, as well.

s o u r c e

Pre-wintry-wants aside, things have been pleasantly busy: seeing friends and family, visiting old haunts, getting comfortable with driving again (after a two-year hiatus), replacing clothing and shoes that fell apart in Europe, selling out the etsy stock and creating new, teaching Isaac, mountain runs and blanket-making (yes, I am also making a blanket), and planning out and waiting on news for the new year (and where we'll go next).

I am excited about the idea of having a home again, after weeks (months!) of travel and hotels and b&b's and friendly basements. At the same time, I am drawn to this quote (as always):

Own only what you can always carry with you: know languages, know countries, know people. Let your memory be your travel bag.  
- Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn




No matter where we end up, I will always be a nomad at heart. With many travel plans in the making, waiting.

By the way ...
If you owned only what you could carry ...
What would you own?