Tag: Family

Slip Sliding Away

Posted on
Mar 28, 2017
14

By the time we land in Seattle, I am tired of people asking about the contents of the plastic toolbox. Both Rand and I have carried it from my father’s tiny Bavarian village to Munich to Amsterdam and now home, each of us now acutely aware of how ill-suited a container it is for transportation.…

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Time Keeps Passing.

Posted on
Dec 12, 2016
33
Posted in: Personal Essay

The thing about time is that it moves on, even if you aren’t ready to. My father died last week. While I remain stuck, trying to grasp that fact, the days keep passing. I still hadn’t processed the statement “My father died today” or “My father died yesterday” before the clock had rendered them obsolete.…

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Father’s Day Cards for Broken People.

Posted on
Jun 21, 2015
7
Posted in: Random Musings

Father’s Day is always kind of tough for me. My dad lives in Germany, and has since before I can remember, so we don’t usually spend the holiday together. Normally, I just call him, and we have the sort of awkward exchange that only two people with virtually nothing in common – except for a…

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More Adventures In Attempting To Get My Dad to Smile

Posted on
Apr 22, 2015
7

“You should try to get a photo of your dad smiling,” my friend Kurtis suggested to me before my last trip to Germany. “That’s near impossible,” I told him. And though I was well aware of this fact myself, I still attempted to do it. We all have our Sisyphean tasks. Wile E. Coyote attempts…

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The Last Three Weeks

Posted on
Jun 11, 2014
Posted in: Rants and Raves

I have so much to tell you. I don’t know where to begin. I’m finally home (for more than just a few hours!) for the first time in three weeks. In less than two, I’ll be in Cambodia. My blog posts are still stuck in Italy, aren’t they? And yet, since then, we’ve been to:…

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On Instagram @theeverywhereist

  • It's all about the cropping. #boop #thisagain #randaldineselfie #selfiesonaplane
  • Dinner with these handsome fools.
  • Finished products. Feeling pretty darn pleased.
  • One of us is not doing a good job of handling the prospect of returning home.
  • Staring from the stairs. Seriously, all hotels need to be built in old monasteries, don't @ me.
  • Him: Take my arm.

Me: *incoherent giggling*
  • It is incredibly hard to capture how incredible our hotel in Canelli is. It was once a monastery, and monks lived here for a hundred years. The halls echo, the ceilings are vaulted, and we eat breakfast in an old stone cellar.
  • A bit of Michelin starred magic this evening. Veal cheeks with onions, foraged salad, tajarin with loads of truffles, and a chocolate soufflé. And then she threw her pants out the window.
  • Rooftops in Barbarello.
  • Foggy rooftops in Canelli. We're staying at a hotel that was once a monastery above this little town.

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