Last month, we popped down to Portland for the weekend, with our pal Chrissy in tow. We’d been meaning to head down to PDX together for a while – our friend Skye had moved back out west after living in Baltimore for the last two years. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d all been…
I have a confession of sorts. It might be that last week, Rand and I zipped back to Europe, and went to Dublin for the second time in six months, and then to London for the umpteenth time since I started this blog. – I know some of you are reading that and thinking, “Girl, no.…
Warning: before writing this post, I spent waaaaay too long listening to NPR, after which I devoured some poetry, and then chased the whole thing with a few swings of prose. The result is … whatever the heck is going on below. It has nothing to do with travel. Sorry. Rand and I have a…
On the drive to Bushman’s Kloof from Cape Town, our bus overheated.
I occasionally wonder if I’m alone in the things I find humorous. I’ve laughed – often hysterically – at stuff that other people don’t seem to find funny. – I usually figure that those other people are in bad moods, have lousy senses of humor, or are plagued with that affliction of sanity that I…
– I have found that there are times when I am traveling with a group that someone needs to use the bathroom. That’s probably not all that surprising, huh? You are probably thinking, “Um, yes, that happens to all of us, genius.” But I’d hope that your takeaway is that I am real and approachable and relatable…
I swear, whoever put these up was just trying to spoil all my fun … –
– There are moments of my life that are so perfect, so ridiculously wonderful, that eloquence fails me. You’d think that those would be the times when words would come most easily. But when you are surrounded by poetry, it is incredibly hard to create more of it. You simply look around, stupefied, and think,…
– I’m a bit of an organizational freak. Some of you, especially those who have spent any amount of time on my blog, may find that hard to believe. I seem to flit from one location to the next, and the narrative of my travels soon becomes convoluted. I dart around like a homing pigeon…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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