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.
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!
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
After my daughter, Courtney’s phone interview with a California company, we booked a last minute trip. You never have to twist my arm to come to the land of sandy beaches, amazing seafood, and beautiful people.
I called my friend, Jan McCarthy, who lives in downtown Los Angeles. Luckily, she was in town since she hops between LA and Boulder. The last time we visited, we went clubbing. I made all kinds of new friends and had my first Red Bull! We call Jan The Mayor since she knows everyone.
Me, Courtney, Jan and Danny in her loft.
We started with a tour and a view from the top of the Eastern Building. Continue reading
Forcing yourself out of your comfort zone can bring about personal growth and build confidence.
It can be scary. You may become hesitant and cautious.
There’s a point in the process when there’s no turning back.
The last few steps are the hardest. That’s what separates the winners from the losers. Continue reading
A church in Moreton-in-Marsh.
Roaming through the village.
I would have loved to peek inside.
Happy Hump Day!
Click on photos to enlarge