Rand and I have been planning out the year’s travel – or parts of it, anyway (There are a number of trips for which we can never plan. They come up last minute, usually in the early hours of the morning, when Rand will shout from his office something along the lines of “I need to…
Southern Oregon is idyllic. – It’s also the site of one of the most horrific things I’ve ever seen in my entire life (note: on the grand scale of things, this isn’t saying much. My life is a cakewalk, minus the walk).
Folks, what I’m about to tell you may not apply to very many of you – it’s the sort of niche, uber-specific travel advice that only a few of you will benefit from, but I still think it’s worth sharing. For those of you who to whom it doesn’t apply, I hope you will at…
1. Cut-out decoration of a German man, Ashland Elks Lodge Oktoberfest. – 2. Contemplative statue, Lithia Park. –
I have a lot of friends who make white van jokes. I mean, we all do, don’t we? Laugh about the nondescript white van that’s lurking around our neighborhood, though in the back of our minds we keep an eye on it, because if some kid disappears, it’s the first thing we’re telling the police.…
Rand and I were walking near Lithia Park in Ashland a few weeks back, when we saw this. It is an entirely black bee. A quick internet search revealed that what we saw wasn’t entirely that unusual. Depending on species and abnormalities, bees can be entirely black, brown, or sometimes even have tones of red.…
I want to say thank you to everyone who, either on the blog, in person, or via email, expressed their sympathies about our fiasco at the Plaza Inn and Suites in Ashland. Your sympathies were much appreciated, but as I look through the pictures, I wonder if all the attention you’ve given me is undeserved.…
I’ve been alluding to the experience of which I’m about to tell you for a while now. And I’d put it off for the last few weeks, because, frankly, I was waiting for it to become funny. After all, nearly everything awful and travel-related becomes hilarious after enough time, right? Like when my friend’s luggage…
I’ve been carrying this one with me for a while. Wondering if I should write about it, but mostly hoping I would forget about it. Because this, dear friends, was the Dick Move that started it all. It happened years ago, during an otherwise almost-perfect trip. And when I think of all the others that…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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