Do you believe in fate or is life filled with choices where coincidences happen?
Last summer, my daughter, Courtney, studied in Barcelona, Spain. My husband, Danny, and I planned to pick her up in July and travel around France and England on our way back to the States. This trip depended on how quickly I healed after my double boobectomy. Our three week vacation would start five weeks after the first surgery.
I had some priorities. Since the book I wrote takes place in the Côte d’Azur, I wanted to re-explore the area. In my paranormal thriller, the protagonist has to solve the dark mystery surrounding her brother-in-law, Nico, and his estate. I’ve never known anyone named Nico, but the name seemed to fit.
The view from the cacti gardens in Eze.
From the South of France, we planned to drive to Paris. It was ten hours away from Antibes. If we stopped halfway, we could explore another city. We studied a map and found Lyon. It was our Omaha, Nebraska when road tripping from Boulder to Wisconsin. Okay. It’s not, but it is a halfway point. We would stay there July 17th and 18th. Continue reading
While staying in the French Quarter, my husband, Danny, and I rented bikes and rode to New Orleans City Park. He was in, “I’m relaxing and don’t care where I go,” mode. I was directionally challenged and led him around in circles.
We found this amazing field of wildflowers and
art in the park.
My father was one of the original Madmen and worked in advertising. On the weekends, he sometimes created art projects like transforming a baby buggy into a shoe.
It was the 4th of July and my sister, Patty, and I were characters from, The Old Woman and the Shoe. I’m the old woman and she’s one of the children who lived in crampt shoe conditions. My mother was a fine seamstress and sewed our outfits. Patty is wearing a rosebud dress and I am in the hoop skirt. We gathered in front of Queen of Peace Church and paraded down the streets of our neighborhood.
It seems, I was directionally challenged from the start. Note the stroller next to us. It appears we’ve crashed.
Do you remember this abusive nursery rhyme?
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do;
She gave them some broth without any bread;
Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
If you’re like me, you take time to prepare for a trip. I check the weather and plan accordingly. Okay. Obsessively. But just like the weather forecasters in your area, they all have trouble predicting too much in advance. (The one on my iPhone is way off.) The temperatures soar when it’s supposed to be cool or storms roll in when you plan to camp on the beach.
If you’re coming to Colorado, I’ll make it easy for you. No matter how warm it gets, the dry air will feel cooler. I can never complain about the same 90 degree temperatures to my mother who may be experiencing the same heat in Wisconsin. Remember, it’s never the heat, it’s the humidity. Continue reading
Summer began last Saturday and many of you probably gardened, went to a farmer’s market or festival. I did what any Wild Rider would do on the first day of summer. I skied!
My husband, Danny, and I wore “gaper” attire for the last day at Arapahoe Basin. According to the Urban Dictionary, “A gaper is a skier or snowboarder who is completely clueless. Usually distinguished by their bright colored clothes and a gaper gap or the gap between goggles and a helmet or hat.”
Who knew we’d be color coordinated?
It was about 65 degrees on the bottom, but the temperature dropped on the chairlift.
The conditions appeared to be more than a little thin. Continue reading
It’s party time! Grab your dancing shoes and a link from your blog. Welcome to the French Quarter, Wild Riders!
Leave a link in my comment section and then click on a few. Tell them “Susie sent me,” and they should click back to your place. Make sure to leave a URL to a specific post or article you’ve written. You don’t want your guests to arrive and not know where you keep your stories. They might poke around in your cupboards and peace out without reading any of them.
Jambalaya is bubbling on the stove while hurricanes are being poured. There are plenty of beignets to eat all day and night. The party will rage through the weekend so stop back to meet all of the guests. I have lots of new friends and I’d love everyone to meet and mingle.
The more links you click, the more friends you’ll meet. Subscribe to a few blogs. Maybe some will subscribe to yours!
Have fun and don’t forget to dance!
We arrived in New Orleans and hit the street. After checking out the Oyster Festival, we had dinner while being serenaded at The Palace Cafe. I fell in love with the NOLA culture and its music.
It was Saturday night and I had to find out what Bourbon Street was all about. While approaching the street, it seemed like Mardi Gras continued in full party mode. Music played through the open doors of all the clubs which lined the streets.
I pulled my husband, Danny into one bar playing one of my favorite songs, “Blurred Lines.” When the music slowed, we ran across the street. Bands, DJs and singers played with no cover charge. I was in heaven. Continue reading
I travel to visit relatives a few times a year, to the mountains most weekends, and in my dreams every night. Exploring new lands, people, dining experiences and cultures is one of my favorite pastimes. I just returned from California where I enjoyed the seafood, sourdough bread, shopping, and friendly beautiful people. Now I’m in the great state of Louisiana. It’s another Wild Ride!
Danny and me and a booty bomber.
After landing in the French Quarter of New Orleans, my husband Danny and I headed down to the Oyster Festival, located on the soft shoulder of the Mississippi River. This event provided my first brush with NOLA (New Orleans Louisiana) culture. The women dressed in appropriate attire for 80+ degree weather. Many wore skirts and dresses, but what really stood out was on their feet. Continue reading
A few years ago, a friend made a comment which changed my life. “You really should write these stories down,” she said after laughing at one of my wild tales. This began a whole new adventure. The germ of an idea for a humorous non-fiction book about Boulder women was born. Editors suggested, I blog in order to build a writer’s platform. I had two problems. I didn’t know the definition of a blog or a writer’s platform.
When I first heard the word blog, I thought of McElligot’s Pool. Remember the dreamer who fished in a tiny pond and imagined an underwater world filled with sea creatures? I think one of the fish made the sound, “Blog.”
My only experience with blogging came from the movie Julie and Julia, but I hadn’t seen it. By the time I looked up Julie Powell‘s blog, she had taken down most of her posts. Continue reading