intr.v. han·kered, han·ker·ing, han·kers
To have a strong, often restless desire.
-American Heritage dictionary
It's August in Salamanca.
And I've got a hankering to be somewhere else, a coast maybe. Somewhere. Out celebrating August with the rest of Spain's population.
Lately, I've had a hankering to write in Spanish. A story, an article. A journal. Something. It's a stubborn hankering.
A fabulous pottery exhibit in Caja Duero's gallery off the Plaza de los Bandos has me hankering to play with clay again. Right here at the kitchen table, coiling, if that's how it has to be for now.
I haven't yet mentioned this to the fine clients who pay the rent, but I've got one hell of a hankering to do the Camino de Santiago this fall. Start to finish.
And a sail. A sail. Oh, am I hankering to head out for a sail.
I have a hankering to see three tiny Americans I've barely met since they showed up to live with friends of mine, their parents. That might just be a hankering to make up long, detailed monster stories and head out to the park to climb foot high boulders and howl like we've just conquered Everest.
I've got a hankering to see Asturias and Galicia's Costa de la Muerte. Today.
I'll be back to blog, I promise. Soon as I figure out what to do with all these hankerings.
Labels: me musing