Travel
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Where I’ve Been: Ireland Edition
What’s the German word for expressing profound sorrow for having disappeared for two years, only to appear out of the blue at the start of August 2020 to wave hello, announce a pregnancy, and regale one’s audience with stories of (somewhat) recent adventures? Linguists of the world, get back to me, would you? The answer to the question of where I’ve been is both simple and multidimensional. But then, what in life cannot likewise be summed up in such a manner? As Whitman said, we do indeed contain multitudes. In fact, the entire poem from which that quote was boosted is perhaps fitting for this moment. Song of Myself, 51…
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Have Truck, Will Travel
I had a dream as a young teenager. It went like this: (1) Buy a used, purple pickup truck. (2) Travel the world. I think this dream first kicked in around my 13th or 14th year. I can’t quite remember where it originated, or why I landed on a pickup truck instead of an RV, Volkswagen van, or some Steinbeck-approved vehicle, but it persisted even as I crossed the threshold into my thirties. For more than half my life I’ve carried this dream around, and though I’ve grown up (mostly…I still eat an inordinate number of chicken fingers), began my career, got married, started a business, and had the privilege…
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A recent trip to Boston
At the beginning of April I followed Dan out to Boston; him for a business trip, me for a walking trip. Plus, his work travels overlapped my birthday, so it was sort of a birthday trip, too. After a late arrival in the rain, I spent the next 36 hours letting my feet find their way around this sweet city, wandering into used bookstores (of course), coffee shops (naturally), and pastry shops (a no-brainer really). It couldn’t have been a better way to kick off another year on this fine planet.
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Michelangelo tried to destroy his early drafts; it didn’t work
Back in December, Daniel and I spent a week with his folks on the east coast. We mostly kicked it around his childhood home and sweet little hometown, catching up with his family and friends. But on one particular day of our visit, we ventured into the big city: New York. Our mission: To meet up with Michelangelo at the Met. A few general notes: Periodically throughout the day, it was very rainy in the city, and walking around the packed corridors of such a bustling metropolis with umbrellas in hand is a particular kind of exercise in sharing one’s space with the rest of humanity. The only way to…
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Living in a greenhouse
If I were to live in a greenhouse, I would have fresh flowers in my home every day. Guests would enter through my weathered — but still entirely proper — yellow-painted front door, and be greeted by such an abundance of greenery that they would be happily taken aback. I would offer them honey-sweetened dandelion tea, and show off my still-developing coffee plant, explaining it would be at least five years before there were any beans of which to speak. We would agree that coffee is almost always preferable, but that the dandelion tea was still quite nice.
