Tag Archives: Photos

Sometimes I think I have the maturity level of an 11-year-old.

Other times, I am absolutely convinced of it.

We’ll be walking around someplace beautiful, and instead of taking in the amazing architecture or historical significance of the place, I’ll be doubled over, laughing hysterically because there are two stray cats getting it on in the distance.

And then I’ll take, like, two photos of the UNESCO site that we’ve trekked to, and like, THREE DOZEN of the mating cats.

I also took a photo of this pregnant cat, in case I needed a cautionary tale for any horny adolescent felines that I came across.

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On our last morning in Germany, we went to Seeshaupt.

I was absolutely not drunk, but some of my photos seem to suggest otherwise. I can only assume that wandering around a picturesque lake on a quiet morning has an intoxicating effect on me, and that I shouldn’t drive after visiting one.

I also shouldn’t drive because I will spend far too much time searching for something called a chococult. Though to be fair, that’s true when Rand’s behind the wheel, too. (But more on that in a moment.)

Seeshaupt is rather lovely, and is located on the Starnberger See (which, despite the homophonic tendencies, is not actually a sea but a lake). If you go early on a Sunday morning in the springtime, you’ll find that the air still carries a chilly edge to it, and the water is remarkably still and clear. The only sounds are the calls of a few birds, the constant hum of buzzing insects, and the occasional chime of a church bell.

If you have the misfortune of being there when I am around, that soundtrack will also be punctuated with me making lots of terrible jokes. My apologies. (In my defense, I was provoked.)

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My dad lives in a small Bavarian village about an hour outside of Munich. I usually don’t blog about it, even though it’s crazy adorable, because it’s also immensely sleepy and boring. The little hamlet shuts down after 6 or 7 pm on weekdays. And pretty much all day on weekends. And Mondays, too. It’s virtually closed whenever it rains, or if it’s chilly out, or when it’s too sunny to do anything. Also, on holidays dedicated to random saints you’ve never heard of (St. Klaus of Kartoffelsalat, St. Franz of Ausfahrts, and others*), which seem to happen every other day or so.

If someone could explain to me why St. Sigfried of Wochenender’s Day is celebrated on a Tuesday, that would be very helpful.

Also, the internet connection is very bad, so Rand has to work outside. Yes, his laptop is balanced on a stump.

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The point is, there isn’t very much to do. I doubt you’d find it all that interesting. But that’s kind of why we love it. Sometimes, when life is really overwhelming and crazy (and for Rand, it often is), there’s nothing better that being bored out of your skull, you know?

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I have trouble describing my dad. He’s not incredibly cheerful, but he isn’t melancholy, either. I don’t think anyone would call him warm, nor would it be accurate to say that he’s unfriendly.

If I were forced to put his demeanor into words, I’d say he’s rather serious, and often rather annoyed. His annoyance usually stems from the fact that everyone else around him is failing to be serious.

Yes. That sounds about right.

This makes it rather difficult to take a photo with my dad, because for the most part, photo-taking is not serious business. And the command to stand and smile while someone snaps picture after picture of you can annoy just about anybody.

Consequently, I’ve stopped asking him to pose for pictures, and just nab a few candid snapshots when I can.

But on this trip, he was uncharacteristically chipper.

It was kind of weird.

So Rand and I decided to press our luck. We made my dad take a few photos with us. And, well, they turned out quite nice.

Here’s my dad with Rand:

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Rand and I got home last night. Since we landed, I’ve been waging a losing battle against jet-lag. It is 9:15 am, and I really want to go to sleep, which, even if you take into account ALL of the time zones I’ve visited in the last few weeks, makes zero sense (depending on which location my body got stuck in, it is either 12:15pm or 5:15pm, neither of which are appropriate times for curling up and going to sleep). As best as I can figure out, I’m on Papua New Guinea time.

I have never been to Papua New Guinea, but it is presently 2:15 am Thursday there. Which feels about right.

As soon as we left Italy, Rand and I started to have a little bit of perspective on it. On our way home, we spent one more night in Germany, and two in Boston (I guess that counts as taking the scenic route), and when people asked how the Amalfi coast was, we both answered to effect of this:

It was beautiful. And stressful as hell.

Taking a photo in my grandparent’s village, presumably of a house I wanted to buy.

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That, in brief, is southern Italy. It is lovely and infuriating. Something will inevitably happen that will cause me to think, “I’m never coming back here,” and then, in nearly the same breath, I’ll be planning our next trip to Naples and trying to convince my husband that we need to buy a summer home in my family’s village, which is hilarious for lots of reasons, not the least of which is this: we don’t even own a regular home, and I want to buy a summer one.

The entire country makes me absolutely lose my mind. I detest it. I can’t wait to go back. (more…)

Helloooo from … the east coast of the United States? Yeah, that sounds about right. It’s presently 6:40 am in Boston, is where I woke up this morning. Which means it’s afternoon in the country that we just left yesterday, and it’s not quite 4am at home. A brief equation:

[3:40 am - (5 hours of sleep) / (I really need a cookie) ] + (where did I put my clean underwear?) = I DON’T KNOW WHERE I LIVE ANYMORE.

I really shouldn’t be on the internet right now because I’m way, waaay too zonked, but I’ve gotten a few emails from people asking when I was going to post again, and I’m feeling massively guilty about that (you can take the girl out of Catholicism but you can’t take Catholicism out of the girl, you know?)

Am I rambling? I probably am. Dear god, I need a cookie. But before I do that (SEE HOW I SUFFER?) here is a preview of the Germany portion of our trip. 10 photos, courtesy of my husband’s cell phone (which means that there are actually pictures of me amongst them, in a slightly more awake state than I am now. Which, to be fair, isn’t hard to do).

I was going to make it 12 photos of Bavaria but you guys, MY COOKIE LEVEL IS TOO LOW.

I’ll be back on Wednesday with some proper posts. In the meantime, here’s a little sneak peak at what we got up to.

 

  1. PRETZELS!

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  2. Hanging out at Neuschwanstein Castle (which is the model for Cinderella’s castle at Disney).

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Rand and I have been on the road for a little while, so blog content has been a little thin lately (sorry about that). I’ll be back next week with some brand new posts, but in the meantime, I’ve been perusing my Flickr stream for any photos or stories that I haven’t yet shared with you.

That’s when I found the following set of photos, that Rand took in Vancouver and Bowen Island last August. As we were walking around, he kept noticing some wonderful signs outside of shops. Some were clever, some were strange, some were utterly confusing.

I find them all delightful – not just in and of themselves, but also because they give a little insight into Rand’s psyche. How he’s so hell-bent on enjoying life, that he can find amusement and wonder in just about anything.

I hope you like them, too.

  1. Wait, when did we open this shop again?

    I like it, because it works for virtually any establishment (you just need to change your definition of recently).

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  2. Hey, at least they’re direct:

    After we saw this, we kept walking everywhere, and then calling one another a “chump.”

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My trip to Palm Springs was nearly two months ago, but our travel schedule has been off to slow start in 2014 (or, rather, mine has), and there hasn’t been much else to blog about. So I figured I’d squeeze one last post from our trip, and it happens to be one of great significance.

These are some photos that I took in Palm Springs, and each one is critically important. This is the stuff that the world needs to see.

Probably.

Like this street sign, for instance. I’m sure you’ll agree that we’re all better off knowing that there exists a street with this name. I hope that in the future, political candidates don’t just talk about Wall Street and Main Street. I hope they also mention Kickapoo Trail, and if they don’t, you better believe that I’ll be one of those people who stands up in those Town-Hall-type-meetings and points that out.

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