Two things I did not buy from an antique store in Castle Rock, Washington. A piece of French sheet music that included an add for ukulele lessons. “Learn in 10 minutes thanks to the Francis Salabert Method!” A Blickendorfer typewriter, with carrying case, from the late 1800s. I regret leaving both of those things behind.
It’s taken me a while to distill my thoughts on TBEX (the annual travelbloggers conference) but with everything stripped away — the swell parties, the patio uke lessons, the “Hey, it’s awesome to see you again!”s, the stuff outside the agenda — I think it boils down to this: I would like to us to …
Can’t see these cause you’re on some i-Thing? Here’s a link.
Maybe I’m doing it wrong. There is a lot of talk of “structure” and whether or not the wine is “too thin” or “flabby.” I don’t know what this means. There’s also some innuendo, though it’s not meant that way. “My, this is soft on the bottom, isn’t it?” I snicker because I am a …
My seatmate is tall, handsome, and quite gay. He’s dressed in a pink t-shirt and tells me right away about his partner, who god bless him, is a florist. My companion is delightful, I want to derail his trip — he’s headed to a business retreat in a nearby chateau — and have him tag …
I first went to France — to Paris — when I was 19. Maybe 20. I remember eating omelet sandwiches while sitting on cast iron park benches. I remember seeing the pointillist painters and going up to look the gargoyles in the eye at Notre Dame Cathedral. I had a mean English boyfriend with blue …