For a knitter who rarely moves beyond the confines of her own hometown, I think about going someplace, anyplace quite often. I just like to go, go, go. I was just glancing at the New York weekend breaks on DialAFlight.com, and thinking, “how could a weekend possibly be long enough?” It would take me at least a week to do all the things I’d like to do in New York!

So, what would I do in New York? I’d
~see a Broadway Show
~climb the Statue of Liberty
~eat a hot dog on the street
~go to a concert at Carnegie Hall (I’d sing there if they’d let me, just to hear what I’d sound like in such a magnificent place)
~walk in Central Park
~shop on Fifth Avenue
~people watch in Times Square
~visit the Guggenheim
~go to the top of the Empire State Building
~if it were winter, I’d go skating at Rockefeller Center
~and of course, I’d have to finally meet Carla in real life

How in the world could I do all that in a weekend? At a minimum, I’d need a week, because I’d want to take my time and enjoy it; to linger over the sights and sounds and smells until they became mine. That takes time, you know. Just as it takes time to move the sticks over and over and make the string into a garment, it takes time to make a place part of yourself. And what’s the point of going otherwise? If it’s not worth leaving a part of yourself, and bringing part of it back with you, what’s the point in going at all?

flights to Johannesburg
flights to Canada