New Year...new city...new life! That's what I decided yesterday. But its been pretty cold and miserable in our new city. Baltimore offered an exciting view of the barren, but snow free landscape when we first moved here a few weeks ago, but then quickly decided that perhaps we were too excited and dropped a few feet of snow on us. So, back to staring at a frigid wasteland.
Dramatic? I think not. I can't say I've met but a handful of people who actually enjoy the cold. But they all live in Texas, so I think they need to come and visit me for the entire Winter next year. We'll see how much they enjoy themselves when there is no sign of sexy for three months and you consider it foreplay when you are shedding layers of clothing.
Oh yes...back to the new year, new city, new life.
I've decided Baltimore is going to be OUR city. We haven't had one since we left San Antonio, but then I didn't really fully appreciate SA because we had had a bad run of whatever you want to call it. So here in Baltimore, we have no end date in sight; in fact, I requested a three year plus timeframe, simply to relax for a while in one spot. Being a Gypsy is fun...but sometimes you just need a place to put in some roots. Maybe plant a few flowers. And go vegetarian - but it's a new city, new year, and new life - so they don't need to know that I used to be a meat eating fiend in a previous life.
The new life part - this is what I'm MOST excited about!! After years of trying to get healthy and reading all the wrong information, a quick trip to New York and chatting with the right person finally put me into perspective. I picked up the book, Eat to Live - and my life has changed. Never will I be able to go back to the low carb, high protein or low fat diets. Eating a vegetarian or vegan diet will be the main lifestyle I promote from now on!! I feel great!! I'm sleeping better (I'm almost caffeine free) and I limit my wine drinking to one glass a few times a week. I can't say that everyone in the house is on board, but they have increased their vegetable and fruit consumption so I'm not complaining. The only person that is experiencing the full brunt on the new lifestyle is Mike. But he escapes to work every day.
We won't be this strict forever, but I am just trying to get a handle and detox from the years of abuse we put our bodies through. That's all. And most people won't hear much about it from me, except those I really care about.
So if you've already heard from me, know you are loved!!
Tales of an American Gypsy
Tidbits from a wandering soul
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Knowing when Good Bye is Near
I'm getting ready to leave on one of my whirlwind weekends. Leaving today will be one of the hardest things that I've had to do in a very long time.
This morning, I shared my last moment of solitude with our sweet Lola. This was my last morning coffee while she snored majestically at my side. This was the last morning that I came downstairs to her beautiful, brown eyes peering patiently at me from her kennel. This was the last breakfast I was able to feed her, the last walk I could take her on. She's been my daily companion and just a darn good dog for the last 11 years.
It is never long enough.
There is no turning back the clock to get this morning back, nor the many days we've spent together outdoors chasing squirrels. There will be no more evenings on the back deck watching the ducks dive bomb the pond or the small birds stare wonderingly at Mike's shiny bald head. No more dog hair to sweep up because she sheds more hair than she has on her body. The tumors that have been apart of her life for the last five years have finally made their internal presence known. It's not pretty and it's quite heartbreaking to watch a loved one, whether human or furry, have a full blown seizure and not know whether or not that gasp for air is the final one.
The kids have handled this week with dignity and understanding. When Lola seized a few days ago for the 3rd time, Sev and Miranda kept it together and made her as comfortable as possible - they even timed it. They kept their hands on her the whole time and spoke to her with all the love that has grown for the last eleven years. Though she's no longer a pup, she has been our "baby girl" and I can't possibly think that we could ever replace her with another.
Mike and I spent the evening out back yesterday reminiscing about the special times we've had with our girl. Is it bad that we can't remember any particular moments because they were all pretty fantastic? Lola wasn't a jumper, a licker (OK, she licked the air around you), a chewer, or a biter. She was; she IS such a good dog.
Mike will care for her through her last days as part of our earthly family. On Saturday, she will join her heavenly family and finally be whole again. She may still snore though. And that's OK. As long as they have ear plugs. Or a white noise maker. Maybe the whole Hallelujah chorus could drowned it out.
This is my eulogy for the very best of dogs that taught us how to be the very best of owners.
Mini happy (I think?) update:
Our flight was delayed tonight so, God willing, I actually GET one more morning with my gal. It's a silver lining even if it is really, REALLY small...
This morning, I shared my last moment of solitude with our sweet Lola. This was my last morning coffee while she snored majestically at my side. This was the last morning that I came downstairs to her beautiful, brown eyes peering patiently at me from her kennel. This was the last breakfast I was able to feed her, the last walk I could take her on. She's been my daily companion and just a darn good dog for the last 11 years.
It is never long enough.
There is no turning back the clock to get this morning back, nor the many days we've spent together outdoors chasing squirrels. There will be no more evenings on the back deck watching the ducks dive bomb the pond or the small birds stare wonderingly at Mike's shiny bald head. No more dog hair to sweep up because she sheds more hair than she has on her body. The tumors that have been apart of her life for the last five years have finally made their internal presence known. It's not pretty and it's quite heartbreaking to watch a loved one, whether human or furry, have a full blown seizure and not know whether or not that gasp for air is the final one.
The kids have handled this week with dignity and understanding. When Lola seized a few days ago for the 3rd time, Sev and Miranda kept it together and made her as comfortable as possible - they even timed it. They kept their hands on her the whole time and spoke to her with all the love that has grown for the last eleven years. Though she's no longer a pup, she has been our "baby girl" and I can't possibly think that we could ever replace her with another.
Mike and I spent the evening out back yesterday reminiscing about the special times we've had with our girl. Is it bad that we can't remember any particular moments because they were all pretty fantastic? Lola wasn't a jumper, a licker (OK, she licked the air around you), a chewer, or a biter. She was; she IS such a good dog.
Mike will care for her through her last days as part of our earthly family. On Saturday, she will join her heavenly family and finally be whole again. She may still snore though. And that's OK. As long as they have ear plugs. Or a white noise maker. Maybe the whole Hallelujah chorus could drowned it out.
This is my eulogy for the very best of dogs that taught us how to be the very best of owners.
Mini happy (I think?) update:
Our flight was delayed tonight so, God willing, I actually GET one more morning with my gal. It's a silver lining even if it is really, REALLY small...
Monday, April 29, 2013
The Elusive Art of Balance
Everybody wants it. We see it on TV, in movies, read about it in books (well, maybe not all the time in books), and envy our friends and family members that seem to have it all. What is this IT that no one can seem to obtain? Quite simply put, it's balance.
Cue the orange juice commericial - a sparkling clean house, nutritious food on the table, Mom's make up on, kids are dressed, laughter all around as Dad snags a quick kiss from Mom...and she just smiles and waves.
What type of pressure does that place on the Moms of today? We pretty much figure we can't do it all, so we end up on meds or head to a shrink to tell us that we just need to accept the place that we are in at this particular point of our lives. (Insert quick note I am shrink and med free. I'm too stubborn to have someone tell me how to fix things and too frugal to pay for meds.)
Yet here I am, throwing a quick blog post together - I mean, dinner is done, dishes are washed, kids are occupied...anyone walking into the house at this very moment would probably envy ME! ME, the one who didn't manage to get her make up on, glossed over the "S" word (schoolwork), and our bed sheets still haven't made it back on the bed (it's laundry day, too), all while I'm trying to talk the eldest out of a dog that he doesn't need!
I suppose we all put on this amazing act when we walk out of the house. Or should. OK, let's say you don't. I think I'm up to 75% confidence, 50% of the time. There is still this part of me that wants to hide under a ball cap with the big shades...JUST so NO ONE looks at me!! I am a walking, talking, "faking it BIG time" unbalanced person. Not freaky unbalanced, but edging towards major nerdy and existing inside a very scrambled brain.
Oh, I've got most of the routine down. That's helped me balance. I have kids to do the dishes, we have the coffee pot programmed the night before, and the dogs go out three times (cough, cough, 10) times a day. Mike gets breakfast, lunch, and dinner every single day...some days I jokingly refer to myself as a kept woman. I make sure that everyone gets some "alone" time - especially me. I read so much that I am still locked within the pages of a great novel days after I've completed it.
I don't know, I guess that deep down I understand that no one has it all. Every person I meet is a writhing, whirling, mass of passion and angst that just hides it really well under that cup of coffee and newspaper.
Cue the orange juice commericial - a sparkling clean house, nutritious food on the table, Mom's make up on, kids are dressed, laughter all around as Dad snags a quick kiss from Mom...and she just smiles and waves.
What type of pressure does that place on the Moms of today? We pretty much figure we can't do it all, so we end up on meds or head to a shrink to tell us that we just need to accept the place that we are in at this particular point of our lives. (Insert quick note I am shrink and med free. I'm too stubborn to have someone tell me how to fix things and too frugal to pay for meds.)
Yet here I am, throwing a quick blog post together - I mean, dinner is done, dishes are washed, kids are occupied...anyone walking into the house at this very moment would probably envy ME! ME, the one who didn't manage to get her make up on, glossed over the "S" word (schoolwork), and our bed sheets still haven't made it back on the bed (it's laundry day, too), all while I'm trying to talk the eldest out of a dog that he doesn't need!
I suppose we all put on this amazing act when we walk out of the house. Or should. OK, let's say you don't. I think I'm up to 75% confidence, 50% of the time. There is still this part of me that wants to hide under a ball cap with the big shades...JUST so NO ONE looks at me!! I am a walking, talking, "faking it BIG time" unbalanced person. Not freaky unbalanced, but edging towards major nerdy and existing inside a very scrambled brain.
Oh, I've got most of the routine down. That's helped me balance. I have kids to do the dishes, we have the coffee pot programmed the night before, and the dogs go out three times (cough, cough, 10) times a day. Mike gets breakfast, lunch, and dinner every single day...some days I jokingly refer to myself as a kept woman. I make sure that everyone gets some "alone" time - especially me. I read so much that I am still locked within the pages of a great novel days after I've completed it.
I don't know, I guess that deep down I understand that no one has it all. Every person I meet is a writhing, whirling, mass of passion and angst that just hides it really well under that cup of coffee and newspaper.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Breaking Bad Habits
I've acquired a lot of bad habits through the years. Not as bad as some people, but maybe worse than others. Some habits weren't too hard to break, but maybe it just took some growing up. For instance, I have been able to leave to partying to the younger generation. I don't have the desire to eat fast food like I did in the past which was a horrible habit that developed in my early 20's and last through my mid 30's. The Dr. Pepper craving has pretty much disappeared the last few years and for that, I'm grateful. I do love me some Dr. Pepper!!
I read a great book about our habits and learned that it takes 21 days to make or break a habit. It isn't easy, but nothing in life comes easy, does it? Since the new year, I've been focusing on good sleep habits because sleep is where we heal. And if we aren't sleeping good, our body can't heal itself. With heart disease and cancer rates still on the rise, the best I thought I could do was start at home with my own habits. Thus, no more Dr. Pepper, fast food, copious amounts of alcohol, and late nights.
This month, I've been working diligently on trying to get my coffee addiction under control. Yes, I understand that caffeine affects everyone differently. I was having 2-3 LARGE cups of coffee laden with REAL sugar and cream daily. Not the fake creamer, but organic half and half. But during all this "practicing good sleep habits," I was sleeping terribly! I didn't blame the coffee at first...I knew I wasn't exercising as much and I was sitting around reading because its too cold to do anything else. When I'd go to sleep, my back and legs would hurt something fierce, so I'd just pop a few ibuprofen every other night or every night depending on my pain level.
Can't stay young and healthy that way!!
Several years ago, I glanced through an alternative medical book regarding the effects of caffeine on our body, specifically our muscles. I cannot remember the name of the book, but I thought I could experiment.
Since the beginning of April, I have been down to one cup of coffee a day. (Couldn't do the cold turkey thing since I tried that five years ago and it was a disaster!) At first I thought , "it isn't so much the caffeine I crave, but the warmth." But I am addicted to caffeine, I know that now. I have to put my mug in the dishwasher right away AND I only make enough to have just one. No Keurig for me; it's too weak!
Those first few days I was SO exhausted!! I felt as if I were moving underwater. Normal activities took me twice as long. But as I kept to my nightly routine of a hot shower and a regular bedtime, I noticed a HUGE difference in how I was sleeping. I slept GOOD!!!
It's almost been a full month. With the exception of an early travel day, (I never sleep good the night before a travel day) my sleep has been deep and uninterrupted. I've noticed that I have more energy during the day and I'm more alert. I've been able to wean myself off my daily iron supplement. The most noticeable and exciting change has been the lack of bags under my eyes. I think I look younger now than I did after my third child was born.
After all, I'm still just a girl wanting to look my best!! That's a habit I'll never want to break!!
I read a great book about our habits and learned that it takes 21 days to make or break a habit. It isn't easy, but nothing in life comes easy, does it? Since the new year, I've been focusing on good sleep habits because sleep is where we heal. And if we aren't sleeping good, our body can't heal itself. With heart disease and cancer rates still on the rise, the best I thought I could do was start at home with my own habits. Thus, no more Dr. Pepper, fast food, copious amounts of alcohol, and late nights.
This month, I've been working diligently on trying to get my coffee addiction under control. Yes, I understand that caffeine affects everyone differently. I was having 2-3 LARGE cups of coffee laden with REAL sugar and cream daily. Not the fake creamer, but organic half and half. But during all this "practicing good sleep habits," I was sleeping terribly! I didn't blame the coffee at first...I knew I wasn't exercising as much and I was sitting around reading because its too cold to do anything else. When I'd go to sleep, my back and legs would hurt something fierce, so I'd just pop a few ibuprofen every other night or every night depending on my pain level.
Can't stay young and healthy that way!!
Several years ago, I glanced through an alternative medical book regarding the effects of caffeine on our body, specifically our muscles. I cannot remember the name of the book, but I thought I could experiment.
Since the beginning of April, I have been down to one cup of coffee a day. (Couldn't do the cold turkey thing since I tried that five years ago and it was a disaster!) At first I thought , "it isn't so much the caffeine I crave, but the warmth." But I am addicted to caffeine, I know that now. I have to put my mug in the dishwasher right away AND I only make enough to have just one. No Keurig for me; it's too weak!
Those first few days I was SO exhausted!! I felt as if I were moving underwater. Normal activities took me twice as long. But as I kept to my nightly routine of a hot shower and a regular bedtime, I noticed a HUGE difference in how I was sleeping. I slept GOOD!!!
It's almost been a full month. With the exception of an early travel day, (I never sleep good the night before a travel day) my sleep has been deep and uninterrupted. I've noticed that I have more energy during the day and I'm more alert. I've been able to wean myself off my daily iron supplement. The most noticeable and exciting change has been the lack of bags under my eyes. I think I look younger now than I did after my third child was born.
After all, I'm still just a girl wanting to look my best!! That's a habit I'll never want to break!!
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Looks can be Deceiving
I had a great jewelry show down in Corpus Christi this past weekend and got to hang out with Teresa for an overnight. She shared pictures and stories of her recent trip to China, Thailand, and India. We laughed, listened to music, and surfed eBay just for the heck of it. Big change from what we would have done twenty years ago, but HEY! We had to grow up sometime!!
My flight schedule heading home on Sunday was going to take me from Corpus to Houston, then onto Baltimore, then Detroit. The Houston flight wasn't full, but I chose a seat near an older gentleman wearing a Vietnam vet ball cap. He seemed a little startled when I sat down next to him, but I offered a cordial, "Good morning." A bright smile lit up his face. I asked if he minded having a cup of coffee with me and he chuckled! He was dressed in a t shirt that had probably seen better days. His skin was darker than charcoal and he had a musical quality to his voice that had me wondering about his origins.
His paper was open to the section on world events covering the threats coming from North Korea. Something made him confide that he was a recovering alcoholic. It struck me that recovering alcoholics are always the most candid individuals. I guess that comes from years of hiding or lying about their addiction. He proceeded to tell me the most incredible stories of his life. His story only confirmed what I have come to realize within the last few years. There are no coincidences in our life and this was no exception.
Mr. Smith came from a Jamaican father and a West Indies mother. They married during World War II and after his father was discharged from the military, they moved to Pennsylvania . His mom spoke fluent French and Spanish. His brother suffered from polio as a child and was crippled. But his mother, who also worked full time, decided to home school his brother because it was recommended to the family that he be sent to the state school. Mr. Smith said his mother was stubborn and refused to accept that his brother couldn't received a solid education like the rest of her children. (His brother received a college diploma and was a successful engineer and has since retired.)
Mr. Smith was drafted during the Vietnam war and served his time working near the North Korean/South Korean border. He said he would share his rations with the North Korean soldier knowing that either could be executed at anytime for communicating - that's how close he was! He did his four years and wandered aimlessly for a bit, but once his aptitude for languages was discovered, he was sent to the Monterrey Language Institute after he reenlisted...in 1972. (I told him that was a VERY good year!! He agreed.) There he did 12-14 hour days studying Farsi, Hindi, and a few others.
And his world opened up!!
A few of his most notable acts were shaking Nelson Mandela's hand while working in South Africa and meeting a most humble Saudi Prince - which he said didn't happen very often. But his most touching act was the fact that he and his wife adopted a troubled teenage girl who had bounced around the system until she was sixteen. She has since gone on to college and married.
Towards the end of our conversation, I asked him, "Have you found your peace?" He looked me directly in the eye and said, "I have." He encouraged me, "If you do anything for your children, have them learn something about all world religions." He said that it helped him to be welcomed into each culture he visited.
I exited the plane with a happy heart and grateful spirit. Who would have thought that my companion for a thirty minute flight would have such a rich history to share? I could have very easily disregarded him because of his appearance and buried myself in my ever present, ever changing array of novels, but with the gentle nudging of the spirit, I found my own gift of peace.
My flight schedule heading home on Sunday was going to take me from Corpus to Houston, then onto Baltimore, then Detroit. The Houston flight wasn't full, but I chose a seat near an older gentleman wearing a Vietnam vet ball cap. He seemed a little startled when I sat down next to him, but I offered a cordial, "Good morning." A bright smile lit up his face. I asked if he minded having a cup of coffee with me and he chuckled! He was dressed in a t shirt that had probably seen better days. His skin was darker than charcoal and he had a musical quality to his voice that had me wondering about his origins.
His paper was open to the section on world events covering the threats coming from North Korea. Something made him confide that he was a recovering alcoholic. It struck me that recovering alcoholics are always the most candid individuals. I guess that comes from years of hiding or lying about their addiction. He proceeded to tell me the most incredible stories of his life. His story only confirmed what I have come to realize within the last few years. There are no coincidences in our life and this was no exception.
Mr. Smith came from a Jamaican father and a West Indies mother. They married during World War II and after his father was discharged from the military, they moved to Pennsylvania . His mom spoke fluent French and Spanish. His brother suffered from polio as a child and was crippled. But his mother, who also worked full time, decided to home school his brother because it was recommended to the family that he be sent to the state school. Mr. Smith said his mother was stubborn and refused to accept that his brother couldn't received a solid education like the rest of her children. (His brother received a college diploma and was a successful engineer and has since retired.)
Mr. Smith was drafted during the Vietnam war and served his time working near the North Korean/South Korean border. He said he would share his rations with the North Korean soldier knowing that either could be executed at anytime for communicating - that's how close he was! He did his four years and wandered aimlessly for a bit, but once his aptitude for languages was discovered, he was sent to the Monterrey Language Institute after he reenlisted...in 1972. (I told him that was a VERY good year!! He agreed.) There he did 12-14 hour days studying Farsi, Hindi, and a few others.
And his world opened up!!
A few of his most notable acts were shaking Nelson Mandela's hand while working in South Africa and meeting a most humble Saudi Prince - which he said didn't happen very often. But his most touching act was the fact that he and his wife adopted a troubled teenage girl who had bounced around the system until she was sixteen. She has since gone on to college and married.
Towards the end of our conversation, I asked him, "Have you found your peace?" He looked me directly in the eye and said, "I have." He encouraged me, "If you do anything for your children, have them learn something about all world religions." He said that it helped him to be welcomed into each culture he visited.
I exited the plane with a happy heart and grateful spirit. Who would have thought that my companion for a thirty minute flight would have such a rich history to share? I could have very easily disregarded him because of his appearance and buried myself in my ever present, ever changing array of novels, but with the gentle nudging of the spirit, I found my own gift of peace.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Would you get REAL already?!
I've noticed that it's that time of the year in Texas. The Susan G. Komen - Race for the Cure was held last weekend in San Antonio and I know that teams are forming now for the Relay for Life coming up in May. It is exciting to see the growing number of participants and the large amounts of money raised to support these causes to find cures for cancer. Cancer is undeniably a threatening and scary diagnosis for all involved, not just the diagnosed individual. We were approached by a number of friends to donate money to support their cause.
And then I saw something so unbelievable that it sent me over the edge and made me rethink donating.
What shot my Irish/German temper STRAIGHT through the roof was a photo a friend had posted on Facebook about a fundraiser that was held to raise money for the Race for the Cure. (I'm getting royally peeved right now just thinking about it.) They were selling hotdogs, chips, and soda. Let me say it again a little louder. THEY WERE SELLING HOTDOGS, CHIPS, AND SODAS!!!!!
Can someone PLEASE explain WHY??? Please explain WHY we are being asked to donate millions of dollars to find a cure for cancer when the volunteers are going to raise money selling cancer causing agents?! Why not just go buy a carton of cigarettes and sell them for $1 each? That would raise ALOT of money to donate to these organizations. Harsh, maybe...but if you really think about it, it's true.
I have a number of friends and family that have been touched in some way by cancer; from the removal of pre-cancerous cells, to lumpectomies, to chemo treatment and radiation, and those that have succumbed leaving behind their loved ones . Cancer obviously doesn't care if you're rich or poor, American, Mexican, German, or African, skinny or fat, young or old. But why cook with plastic in your microwave, or drink out of water bottles that have set who knows how long in a warehouse lacking central A/C? Why dump that nasty orange powder into your noodles and call it a homemade dinner? So WHY should I go buy a hot dog, chips, and a soda to help raise money for cancer research when eating that kind of food will just increase my risk of cancer in the future?
As sad as it is to say, it's almost as if the public is serving themselves up to these organizations to be researched on later as subjects themselves!!
I am not against raising money and donating for good causes. Finding a cure for cancer is a NOBLE cause. But please, start at home. Use REAL butter and eat REAL cheese. Instead of sodas laden with high fructose corn syrup and who knows that else, make tea using REAL sugar. Have a REAL lunch with a green salad instead of grabbing that artificial food from Taco Bell. Go for a walk everyday and encourage your neighbors, friends, and family to do it, too instead of walking once a year.
Get REAL!!
And then I saw something so unbelievable that it sent me over the edge and made me rethink donating.
What shot my Irish/German temper STRAIGHT through the roof was a photo a friend had posted on Facebook about a fundraiser that was held to raise money for the Race for the Cure. (I'm getting royally peeved right now just thinking about it.) They were selling hotdogs, chips, and soda. Let me say it again a little louder. THEY WERE SELLING HOTDOGS, CHIPS, AND SODAS!!!!!
Can someone PLEASE explain WHY??? Please explain WHY we are being asked to donate millions of dollars to find a cure for cancer when the volunteers are going to raise money selling cancer causing agents?! Why not just go buy a carton of cigarettes and sell them for $1 each? That would raise ALOT of money to donate to these organizations. Harsh, maybe...but if you really think about it, it's true.
I have a number of friends and family that have been touched in some way by cancer; from the removal of pre-cancerous cells, to lumpectomies, to chemo treatment and radiation, and those that have succumbed leaving behind their loved ones . Cancer obviously doesn't care if you're rich or poor, American, Mexican, German, or African, skinny or fat, young or old. But why cook with plastic in your microwave, or drink out of water bottles that have set who knows how long in a warehouse lacking central A/C? Why dump that nasty orange powder into your noodles and call it a homemade dinner? So WHY should I go buy a hot dog, chips, and a soda to help raise money for cancer research when eating that kind of food will just increase my risk of cancer in the future?
As sad as it is to say, it's almost as if the public is serving themselves up to these organizations to be researched on later as subjects themselves!!
I am not against raising money and donating for good causes. Finding a cure for cancer is a NOBLE cause. But please, start at home. Use REAL butter and eat REAL cheese. Instead of sodas laden with high fructose corn syrup and who knows that else, make tea using REAL sugar. Have a REAL lunch with a green salad instead of grabbing that artificial food from Taco Bell. Go for a walk everyday and encourage your neighbors, friends, and family to do it, too instead of walking once a year.
Get REAL!!
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Changing the name?!?
This past weekend I was all literally over the map. Friday started out on a high note because I was ready for my great adventure. (It's definitely easier to travel alone when I have weekends like this past one.) I went from Detroit to San Antonio with relative ease and enjoyed a quick lunch with my mom before beginning the journey.
Why label a trip to San Antonio a "journey?"
The traffic is nightmarish to say the least, especially when you plan on being across town within an hour. And the highways are under construction/ I was on the Northeast side, North Central, Northwest, and the South side all within a 36 hour period. Bleh!!
But that was only the beginning!! The true journey began Monday morning, dark and early, when my sweet friend's husband drove me to the airport. I was able to catch a flight and get as far as Chicago. My knight in shining armor, AKA Mike, made a reservation through a certain travel site, against better judgment. I've just heard way too many stories, and none of them are any good! I picked up the car in drizzly Chicago and made my way through more traffic until I reached the highway. Let me tell you, Illinois has some pretty good highways!! In fact, parts of the highway in Chicago are supple and bouncy...no joke!!
As I made my way through Indiana and Michigan, I was struck by the fact that I could honestly be a Gypsy. Maybe not in the sense that anyone would recognize - no swarthy Romanian or Hungarian background here! However, Webster defines a Gypsy as a person who roams about without a fixed route or destination. That's me (or us!!) We have been moving so much the last few years and my business has taken me in so many directions, that why not rename my blog? It would aptly define who I've become and maybe describe who I've always been. Mike likes to tease that he fulfilled that dream when we moved to New York, but before we moved, we were always taking weekend trips and great vacations!
So I am excited to share this journey and look forward to recalling some fond memories from cities past.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)