Oh, the joys of feet! The mystery of words! The allure of solid food! Julia London, aka Little, is in a world of wonder. Little appreciates the, well, little things in life just as Hallmark movies and cross stitch pillows instruct. Little needs not Smartphone nor interweb when she has her own fingers to admire. In contrast to the snarky-funny pessimism so prevalent around us (and often perpetrated by us), Little lives pure happiness.
Our trip to Canada was not all mountain wilderness. We were lucky enough to see two great Canadian cities as well, Vancouver and Victoria. After living amongst the pines for several months, they were the perfect injection of skyscrapers and pedestrians to satisfy our human interaction quota. Vancouver offered stunning scenery and pop-up-restaurant cool along with a disturbing number of junkies making us wonder where the line between British Columbia and Narcos Colombia was. Victoria was an absolute gem, plain and simple. This smaller island city fully delighted and left us scouring real estate listings.
Our impromptu spring break trip to Canada took us straight into the romance of the Great White North. Banff National Park was a peek inside a snow globe that left us truly impressed.
Even for a directionally challenged loon like me there was something off about driving east to reach the great Rocky Mountains; considered Out West when growing up in Michigan. We drove through never-ending plains of white, past train tracks and tunnels that should have been part of a children’s play set and mountain peaks that looked like Kindergarten renditions of triangle mountains (mad-jestic in JD’s words).
Strangely, I was reminded of Namibia here. They are alike in their opposite extremes. There was the same quiet and same sense of smallness that comes from being the only humans for miles. Although exhilarating, there was also the feeling that we shouldn’t be there, as if we were trespassing on Mother Earth’s hallowed ground. The land was both too sacred and too brutal for us to cruise though in our temperature-controlled car.
I’m home. Sort of. I’m back to being able to recite the pledge of allegiance, drive on the right side of the road and converse fluently. I’m back in the US of blessed A. And I’m happy. I’m proud this is my country. Perhaps I even feel a bit freer and braver than before. Certainly, the bravery is needed right about now. Read More…
…and we’re married!
Being married is like before but better. JD is now fully, legally what he has already been in my heart. I fail to properly describe the awesome (in the true sense) moments we’ve had moving from Engaged to Married. So I won’t try. Instead, just thank you to all the friends, family and special randoms who’ve made it the beyond great that it is. And mostly thank you to JD, my travel partner, life partner, my partner in crime and now my husband.
Some might take this title as a jilt to the Emerald Isle. Just to be clear, I mean it in the best way possible. Not only is Ireland the homeland of Oscar Wilde and Frank McCourt, it’s an inspiration to all who appreciate words. The gray and the green mix into the perfect backdrop for inspiring readers, writers and daydreamers.
Thanksgiving as an expat is a day of mixed emotions. It lives up to its name and makes you stop and appreciate the important people in your life. But when most of those people are on the other side of the world, it also does a great job making you homesick. And so, with an ambivalent heart, I stepped into my very first Thanksgiving in Vietnam.