I’m still grounded, working many hours weekly on my day job, trying to slap out work for my freelance markets, and if I turn 180 degrees from my monitor, I will see my music stand, an open ukulele case beside it on the floor. While I have some travel writing time carved out in the near future, that time is alotted to assignments, not to updating Nerd’s Eye View. I miss it the writing time, but it’s not to be right now.… continued…
There wasn’t much to the posting. “We’re looking for a female vocalist who can play the ukulele. Here’s our website, drop us a line if you want to know more.” Something like that, I don’t remember the exact words.
I answered in as non-committal a way as I could muster. “I don’t know if I want to join a band, or if I’m good enough, even. But if you don’t mind squandering an evening of your time, I’d love to come hang out and see how it goes.” I drove in to a neighborhood I did not know and crashed through some songs I did not know how to play.… continued…
“How are we related again?” asked my cousin.
I had never met this cousin, this was the first time we were face to face. We were standing in his father’s house, I’d flown down to spend one night in San Jose so I could attend his father’s memorial. “Your dad is my uncle,” I said. “My father’s brother.”
This happened over and over during the course of the day. “You’re the lady with the penguins, right?” said one of the cousins.… continued…
The experiences of travel, over time, blend together into a hazy mosaic of sunrises and sunsets, curries and salads, aromas and stenches; but then two guys try to murder you in northern Laos, and that doesn’t really blend with anything.
I’d left Boun Tai, a small Lao village in the southern reaches of Phongsali province, around dawn. Submerged in mist I rode for a good 20 kilometres before the sun seared through; dappling among the canopy of leaves to my potholed road below.… continued…
Tranquility ~ the state of being free from commotion or disturbance; the absence of agitation
The mere anticipation of being in my favorite hotel room overlooking Haystack Rock (which grows out of the Pacific in Cannon Beach, Oregon) triggers an impending sense of tranquility somewhere deep inside of me. Once there, the peacefulness in my soul is palpable.
We’ve been going to Cannon Beach for over thirty years – to veg out, to watch the water and the sun and the storms and to just simply marvel at the beauty of the place. It never grows old. It always seems both familiar and new.… continued…
