to present on my time in Japan,
I found a photo of myself
in front of the floating torii
I was there. Of course
I remember my awe
that gate (between
the profane and
the sacred); still,
That all really
happened! I didn’t
just dream it! Read more…
On Tuesday, I landed in New Orleans.
I was greeted there by a good friend I’d never yet met in person.
(That happens with blogging. When you’ve already met in heart and mind, the physical meeting isn’t really the first meeting.)
Lisha picked me up outside the airport. We chatted comfortably as she took me on a two-hour tour of her beloved city.
If we were having coffee, I’d pass on the coffee and have some minty tea instead.
I’d explain that I spent the last several days in San Antonio, Texas for work, and that I drank at least twice as much coffee as usual to rouse myself after awakening so early each morning. There’s still so much surplus caffeine coursing through my veins that I need to back away from it today for any chance of decent sleep tonight.
I had this funny idea as I departed for Texas that I’d have tons of quiet time to soak in the tidiness and space of my hotel room. I’d get the kind of I’m-an-introvert dream break that I’ve been craving since I learned firsthand–almost two years ago–that finding a little breathing room is about a million times harder with two young kids than one.
I’d shake my head with a rueful grin. I could not have been further off! For starters, being away from my kids was more physically and emotionally exhausting than I’d realized it would be. After the stress of flight, the working hours were longish and heavily interactive. Then, after each workday was over, more discussion ensued over long dinners. I experienced approximately none of the introvert wind-down I’d envisioned as I packed dreamily early in the week. Read more…
In the back seat of my sister’s car,
Next to my baby,
Snoring as he (finally) rests well
After a journey small to big people,
But enormous to the littlest ones
When the air becomes warm,
So thick I feel I could choke on it,
I open the rear door
To let in some air
Still in the car,
But the world feels so much larger
The cool Oregon breeze
Sings songs that make trees dance
As far as I can hear.
I watch their revelry
(Beyond my big red sandals)
“Can I give you your gift now?” my husband asked me on Wednesday.
“Let’s just wait until Valentine’s Day. I mean, we don’t even usually do anything, so I’m a little confused.”
“Mmm,” he replied.
“I didn’t get you anything,” I added.
This morning, Anthony excitedly asked if it was time for me to open my present.
“Sure,” I replied casually.
“I hope it matches!” he exclaimed. “I can get a new one if it doesn’t. It’ll just take some time.”
Matches? What is he talking about? Read more…
I returned from teaching English in Japan eight years ago.
I’ve dreamed of traveling there with my family. I dream most especially of returning to Hiroshima and watching my young sons place their own paper cranes at an angel’s feet.
My husband would like us to visit Australia, where he and other early castaways were sequestered while fellow Survivor competitors finished up their time on the island.
We’d also like to visit places we’ve never been. Time and money are sparse, so we’ve taken to dreaming now of travel later.
I’ll be traveling internationally again soon. My new job will assign me certain territories, and I’ll periodically visit customers within those territories as part of my job.
Which territories? Read more…