Last May, I arrived in Paris with one suitcase large enough to transport Jimmy Hoffa’s body, a smaller and more practical backpack for everything which didn’t fit in the suitcase, and an even smaller–but highly impractical–computer backpack. (Impractical only because… Read More ›
I’m confused. When people hear about our lives, they feel compelled to impart a bit of wisdom– like this pearl from a new acquaintance: “Whatever you do, don’t drop dead in Europe. My friend did that and his wife had… Read More ›
For a while I called us nomads until my son said, “That sounds weird mom. Don’t say that.” And I must admit, even to me it sounded a bit too Karen Blixen meets Maasai warrior. Now I say, “We’re full… Read More ›
Before we moved about, our friends (and family for that matter) were strewn across the United States. We didn’t see them frequently, and we didn’t obsess over it. Yet, on the road, we feel we are losing touch with people…. Read More ›
In the last few weeks, I feel as though I have been thrown off the back of a raft and into the swell. Every chance I have to poke my head above water, I gasp in as much air as… Read More ›
The World In Between 