We are sitting in a cafe in Füssen, eating a way-too-sweet (but still delicious) merengata dessert when it happens. The screen on my new camera flashes “memory card full” and then goes to black. I can’t take any more photos. “What the hell?” I yell, and then, for reasons that are still confusing to…
I have a mustache. – I’ve mostly come to terms with this. I’ve had it for the better part of twenty years, and like my weird toe (which we will not be discussing) or my amazing European nose, it is very much a part of me. But every now and then, I get the crazy idea…
I’ve been thinking a lot about Malaysia Airlines flight 370 which went missing days ago. I suppose everyone has. It’s strange and sad, and right now it’s an open-ended mystery, which I think must be excruciating for the family members of the 239 people who were on board. I honestly can’t imagine anything worse that not knowing.…
Isn’t it kind of amazing how we occasionally forget that we’re all people? It happens all the time. We crowd into elevators, we cut people off in traffic, we curse at actors on TV when they’re wearing that new JCrew top that we couldn’t afford (okay, maybe I’m the only one that does that last…
I’m not afraid of snakes. Someone in our little Palm Springs Vacation Party (Trademark pending) was, though. And so this conversation took place on our way to explore the Salton Sea, but I’m omitting attributions in order to protect the innocent.
There has been a lot of talk lately about Rand’s facial hair. And not just by me. Other folks have been blogging about it, too. He started growing it out after Thanksgiving, just to see what it would look like. And it looked pretty much the same as it always did – a bit shaggier…
Rand is growing out his beard. – I know, I know. This is supposed to be a travel blog, right? And for the most part, my husband’s facial hair plays very little role in our travel, much less yours. Goodness, what if it did, though. That would be one crazy-ass superpower, would it not? Me:…
There are no roses in Palm Springs. At least, none that we saw. So if we couldn’t stop and smell those, there was only one thing left to do: – We had to pause and contemplate the cacti. (Note: Rand is growing out his facial hair and having way too much fun doing it.)
(No, wait. Nevermind. We totally don’t.) – Despite being thirty-cough-cough-hack, Rand and I live our lives like we are perpetually in our twenties. We stay up late, we sleep in, we make cookies at 10pm and watch cartoons while they bake, our home gradually smelling more and more like vanilla. Actually, I don’t think people in…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
In Hardback, e-book, and audiobook from these booksellers:
