If you’re happy and you know it… children’s song
I am a traveler and I am a writer. It says so on my business cards. But a quick read of my bio (and reading between the lines of my resumé) will tell you that I’ve also done a lot of other things. Like most people, the life I have lived can’t simply be defined by a label or two. I contain multitudes, as Walt Whitman wrote.
This is where Side Tracks: Life outside Travel comes in. Because, while traveling the world has been the defining story of my life, it’s not the only story. Sometimes I write about topics that don’t fit into a travel category and this is where you’ll find those other pieces.
From time to time, I take Side Tracks. I have other interests and experiences apart from life lived when traveling, so I write about those. Stuff like friends, family, and food, plus wine, whiskey and vodka. Those things seem to go together like Christmas and Lemon-Vodka slushies. (You can read about that luscious elixir by clicking the post below.) Occasionally, I write about simplifying and decluttering my life and my mind; about cursing, avoiding prison, and efforts to be a better version of myself; about volunteering, community, and the universal lessons we all learn. Sometimes I even write about writing.
side tracks: life outside travel
In which I offer my services as mentor to kids for a day. Except observing a writer at work for a day is like watching an unending film reel of grass growing, if grass procrastinated and felt like a failure. BYOB.
Give a kid a new experience. Every one opens a door into a world previously unknown. Each curtain they peek behind shows them what they might aspire to be some day: a magician, a wrestler, an archaeologist.
A grandmother screws lag bolts into solid mahogany and teaches a 5 year old a few life lessons in the process. This was not my grandmother’s first rodeo.
My dog complains about the government, by which she means me. We all have Big Fat Problems.
The Liebster Award is given to writers and blog-folk by other writers and blog-folk as a way to tip one’s hat to the person sitting at their keyboard somewhere in the world, trying to use their words.
In which resolutions are made and I attempt to stay out of prison.
Christmas and Lemon-Vodka slushies go together like sugar cookies and a Mexican buffet. Right?
Stealing a day from myself to have lunch with some old friends reminds me who the members of my tribe are.
A burglar rides the neighborhood on his bicycle while I’m busy giving away our stuff. Oh, the irony.