Whenever I come back from a trip, I feel as if I have a traveling trunk packed to bursting. I fall asleep dreaming about opening the latches, throwing the hood back, and pulling things out.
Of course, my physical trunk is a suitcase now, not like the wonderful trunks in books when I was little. The kind that always got sent back to a nephew or niece from an uncle traveling in colonial India or Africa or Asia and were full of magic masks and the scent of sandalwood.
But there’s the trunk of my mind, too. It’s like magic to come back with all these stories and experiences, so vivid they come out in my dreams at night and mix, sometimes to strange effect.
(The other night, for example, I dreamed I was traipsing through an endless American mall, trying and trying to find a good glacier. And all I could find was Haagen-Daz and Baskin-Robbins. More on glaciers in another post.)
So I have lots of stories to tell and pictures to share, and I promise I’ll tell them! I just don’t know who to pick first? The story of the chocolate or shall I tease Laume some more :)? Gypsy Purple‘s story of gypsy miracles? Roof tiles for Michelle? Or all the other ones I haven’t even mentioned yet?
Here’s the full photo of the items above, a little bit of my treasure chest. Other than my own books–which were up there to remind me to send the film agent extra copies for this POSSIBLE (these things are always slim, slim possibilities even when talked about) TV series thing and which proved a better backdrop than previously used baby blankets–can you identify the other nine items? Some of them are easy, of course!