It was on our calendar. We’d take a daycation to Washington, DC to see the Cherry Blossooms at their peak. It would make two years in a row after missing them for more years than I care to remember. But, mother nature had her own game plan. The early unseasonably warm weather fooled the trees in to an early bloom and then just when the blossoms were peaking, in rolled an arctic blast and 10″ of snow fell in some of the surrounding areas. We weren’t going anywhere!
I’ve always said that walking in the path of those who came before us is by far the best lesson travel can teach. Standing on the stairs at the Chateau de Fontainebleau where Napoleon abdicated, or walking through George Washington’s Mt. Vernon home, or walking across a civil war battlefield, are all moments in time. Moments in which we can choose to stop and consider the idea that we, as a nation, cannot move forward if we do not recognize how far we’ve come and how far we still have to go. It’s what I love most about history. And, it’s what I love most about travel.
It should come as no surprise that I am a lover of the written word; of books. No matter how many times we pack up and move, there are a dozen boxes of books that move with us. Over the years I’ve downsized as much as I can, but I have my collection of true loves and I will never part with them. So, with that thought in mind, if it’s possible to be in love with a library, then I am hopelessly in love with the Library of Congress in Washington, DC.
There are times when words absolutely fail me. And for someone who enjoys the fine art of jibber jabber and the written word, to have words fail me really sucks. If I could voice the speedway of thoughts and emotions that are zooming through my brain at this very moment you’d be begging me to STOP!
I’m pretty sure it’s not a real thing, but I’m also pretty sure I have a Women’s March on Washington hangover. I woke up with a headache, my body aches and I’m beyond tired. But at the same time I’ve never felt more empowered. #protesthangover. We left home at 7:00 a.m. yesterday morning and didn’t make it back until 10:00 p.m. To say it was a long day, well… judge for yourself.
One year ago today the men in my life were not feeling well. They would have risen to the occasion but since I had not yet come to terms with the beginning of my sixth decade, I opted to let them rest and I ignored the day. How could “I” possibly be sixty-years-
I’ve always embraced the belief that life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans. A well-known phrase quoted by many, but a guiding force in my life.
It’s just a little yellow envelope, maybe 2″ x 3″ with a little red heart sticker to seal the deal. But, the message inside…
Did you read any good books in 2016? When I pick up a book, I usually know within the first 10 pages if it’s going to take hold and keep my attention. And, if it does take hold, then I’m in it until the end, meaning I go deaf, dumb and blind to the world until I’ve devoured every page.
On this soon to be upon us day of giving thanks, I find myself thinking of something a guest said during a newsmaker’s panel discussion I watched, in reference to the results of the presidential election. The panelist suggested, that when we sit down to give thanks this year surrounded by those important to our lives, instead of stating what we’re thankful for, take time to think instead, of what we’ve learned.