While vacationing in Santa Barbara, California, my husband, Danny, and I walked to the farmers’ market. I spied something enveloped in a garden bed. I took a double take. Yep. It appears someone partied hard Friday night and trounced home naked or in their boxers or thong. I left the pair of jeans in their new habitat and didn’t investigate for size or gender. I didn’t want to find *gulp* underwear.
I’m back in Wisconsin and took these selfies in my parents’ living room. The rectangles in the background are my father’s paintings.
Going home will be like waking from a dream. Flashes of memories will surround me after focused time with my parents. The clarity I have now will dissolve after returning to Boulder. Like most memories, this week will become a blur.
Do your vacations race by? Do you photograph special moments?
This post is a response to the Daily Post Photo Challenge – Blur
Ephemeral – Lasting for a very short time.
Isn’t all of life ephemeral?
Is seeing believing or do we only see what we believe? Continue reading
We probably won’t take a vacation until May, so I’ve been drooling over my vacation photos. These are a few I took in California last year. I miss the fresh sea air, the farm-to-table restaurants and the blending of architecture, art, and landscape found at the Getty Museum. I hope to visit again soon.
My daughter, Courtney, gazes at the ocean in Santa Monica.
Every year on the 17th of March, the Leprechauns scatter their gold coins throughout my house and I boil corned beef and cabbage while listening to Irish music. This year, I’m taking a trip back in time, back to our trip to Ireland.
Danny and I traveled with my dad and mom and our two kids, Kelly and Courtney, in 2001.
We stayed in a friend’s apartment a mile away from Dublin’s downtown.
While walking downtown, the Lord Mayor arrived in style at the Kerrygold Horse Show.
We walked through an arched passageway
and were welcomed by a harmonica player. Continue reading
When my husband, Danny, was invited to go hut skiing the same weekend as our trip to Wisconsin, skiing won. You’re not surprised, are you?
Anyway, last Tuesday, Danny remembered we hadn’t transferred the tickets. I had spaced them out too. Duh! We would lose them on Thursday. One ticket could be used in April, but I couldn’t think of another time to go back.
While taking a walk on the trail near our house, I had a thought. Why should I stick around the house while Danny has fun and my mom’s eighty-fifth birthday is the same weekend? (Danny says I’m the queen of rhetorical questions.) Then BAM! I had a Eureka moment. I’ll surprise my parents!
This being totally last minute, I called my brother to make sure this would be a good time to come. He thought it was a great idea and arranged to pick me up at the airport. I hoped I wouldn’t give them a heart attack. My dad turned eighty-nine a couple of weeks ago and my mom would turn eighty-five on the 9th.
When I arrived at DIA, I had two hours to spare. Security always takes forever, but glancing over the railing, the line was non-existent. What? Was the airport shut down and I didn’t get the memo? Continue reading
After 7 weeks of sitting home recuperating after surgery, I was ready for adventure. My husband, Danny, went skiing with work buddies, so I decided to drive up Friday night and meet him in the mountains. We have a home on Baldy Mountain just above the town of Breckenridge opposite the ski resort. I just about gave up packing my car since I was so exhausted, but forced myself to keep going. I HAD TO GET OUT OF THE HOUSE! On my way up, I hit a snowstorm, but love driving in snowy conditions even though it added an hour to my drive. I’m a Wild Driver.
As promised by my surgeon, I woke up Saturday morning with unbelievable energy after a steroid shot the Monday before. I decided to make a breakFEAST. While running to the grocery store, I pulled over next to a gnarly snowboarder dude with some pretty cool dreads waiting at the bus stop.
“Want a ride?” I asked, “I’m headed to City Market.” Continue reading