Tag Archives: Top Ten

You can’t take photos in museums, but you can take them on the street.

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We didn’t manage to make it to Centre Pompidou – one of Paris’ main modern art museums. We wanted to go (at one point, we were even in line for tickets), but then we realized we were hungry, and there was pot au feu and steak frites to think about.

And then we found a Chagall exhibit, and the thing about Chagall is this: like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction, he won’t be ignored. (Except, you know, with less dead bunnies.) So we went to that instead.

Later, we got macarons.

And I would feel somewhat terrible for skipping the Pompidou, had all of that not been absolutely amazing.

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I have exciting news.

Okay, maybe it’s not that exciting. I mean, I think it’s pretty great news, but I get excited over some silly stuff. Like whenever a vending machine messes up and drops two of whatever candy you selected. Or that time that Rand and I went to a video arcade and the skeeball game kept resetting itself automatically (so I got, like, 20 games for a quarter. Oh, the tickets we amassed).

I guess for me, less isn’t more. More is more.

So I’m pretty thrilled to say there’s been a tiny little tweak to my blog – my posts are now wider, which means that I can accommodate larger photos.

Exciting, right? And what better way to illustrate this than with ten photos I took of the Sydney Fish Market?

More pixels. Less squinting. More squid. Enjoy.

  1. Women shucking oysters.

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  2. Tiny octopuses.

    Chock-full of tentacle-y goodness.

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  3. Not so shrimpy shrimp.

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  4. As advertised: fish head and bone.

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  5. A visual sorbet for those of you who hate fish, but like their kin.

    Get it? Fish kin? FISHKIN? Sigh.

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  6. A squadron of squishy squid.

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  7. Opportunistic herons outside the fish market.

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  8. Needle-nosed little buggers (I can’t remember what they were called).

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  9. Hee. Business in the front, party in the back.

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  10. We’re just going to hope that this is one of those subtle linguistic differences that exist between native English speakers.

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I know I’ve accosted you all with photo after photo of Hayman Island and the Great Barrier Reef. I hope you’ll forgive me if I post a few more, before moving on to Sydney.

Because, damn it, the islands were just lovely and maybe, just maybe, I want to squeeze my eyes shut and pretend that we’re still there. Except that this time it’s a little more affordable, and (as long as we’re dreaming) I look fabulous in a bikini, and there’s tons of free cake and baby sea turtles for everyone! (For clarification, I do not wish to eat the sea turtles. I only wish that they were frolicking around so that we could enjoy gazing at them while eating free cake.)

  1. Rand walking on the beach at Hayman Island before a storm.-
  2. View from our seaplane during our tour of the reef.

    I realize all of these airplane photos are kind of an ad for Air Whitsunday, but you know what? They totally deserve it.

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Street sign, fully heeded.

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I’ve been to London a good number of times. We usually go at least once a year, sometimes twice, and the total number of trips Rand and I have taken there are numbering close to a dozen. I’m started convincing myself that I’ve seen all the city has to offer. I’ve been to tons of its museums – mainstays like the British Museum and more obscure ones like the Old Operating Theater and herb garret and the London Transport Museum. I’ve visited the Globe, and the Tate Modern, and the Tower of London; I’ve spent way, waaaay too much time shopping in Covent Garden and wandering around Borough Market.

I figured I’d seen London. Been there. Done that. Eaten those. Right?

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I’m having trouble getting my thoughts in order this week. I’m once again hit with the obvious realization that I can’t be everywhere at once – certainly not literally, and not even on this blog of mine.

We got back from Sydney less than 24 hours ago (and we left for Australia less than a week after we got back from London). I would very much like to tell you about that trip, but even in the short time since I’ve returned, a lot has happened. I’ve found myself thinking about the people in my life, and how I never feel like I give them the attention they deserve.

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As hard as it was to leave the resort, Rand made it bearable by planning a few more days in Cape Town before we had to go home (you guys, he’s SO smart. There are days when I think I should marry him twice. Is that a thing? Because it should be).

We stayed near the water in Mouille Point, and waking up every morning to this view helped take the edge off of not being in Bushman’s Kloof:

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I’m sure you’ll agree that while is it painfully free of Cape Mountain zebra and springbok, it’s still a pretty nice panorama. And there was lots more to love about Cape Town. Here are ten of my favorite photos from the third largest city in South Africa. (more…)

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Leaving the Kloof was hard. I’m not even going to pretend otherwise. It was blissful and beautiful and it pulled at my heartstrings a little to leave. Driving away, it felt like it was the last day of camp, or the morning after a really great slumber party (you know, the ones where no one breaks down crying and the first person to fall asleep doesn’t have peanut butter smeared on her toes by the other guests).

We’d had a lovely time, and we were happy about that, but damn it, it was hard to see it end. It was tough to say goodbye.

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Street crossing in Downtown Milwaukee.

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The main drawback of communicating mostly through sarcasm (if, indeed, there is any) is this: on the rare occasion when you are sincere, people don’t believe you. They think you are being a snide jerk, and the more you try to convince them otherwise, the worse it gets.

This happened time and again whenever someone asked me what I thought of Wisconsin (and of Milwaukee and Green Bay and the stretch of highway in between).

I answered them honestly. I loved it.

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