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.
I’ve been meaning to visit my brother in California for ages now, but that trip keeps getting delayed as new ones pile up. I owe my friend Chrissy a phone call, and my friend Deanna an email. I should probably talk to my mom, too. And I realize, in addition to all the people I’ve been neglecting as I travel around, there are a few places that I’ve neglected, too. I spent far too little time telling you about Milwaukee, and I managed to completely skip Portsmouth, New Hampshire, all together.
I feel anxious whenever this happens: when my blog can’t keep up with my life. When I can’t keep up with my life. It’s not something I can complain about, but it is something I feel guilty about. There are people in my life who deserve more of my attention; there are also places that deserve more of my attention.
So I hope you’ll forgive me for moving backwards, figuratively at least. There are trips that are still floating in my head, and until I write about them, they won’t seem real.
Today, I want to tell you about Portsmouth, New Hampshire. We were there last November before a storm. Even though it’s sunny outside my window this morning, I can still remember those few days we spent in that little town quite vividly – how the wind howled through the streets as I ran from store to store, trying to keep warm while simultaneously seeing the city.
My friend Deanna, whom I met through this blog of mine, was born in Portsmouth. Since she’s one of those many people I’ve been neglecting as of late, it seems only appropriate to spend the day talking about her birthplace.
Deanna: consider this the blog equivalent of a Facebook “poke”. To be fair, I’ve never really understood what a “poke” was for, but I think it a gentle way of saying, “I miss you, and I’m thinking about you.”
Which, for the record, I am. As well as that little town of yours. Forgive me, but most of these photos are of food, or streets lit up after dark. It seems that I’m drawn to stuff like that.
- Neon jungle inside The Friendly Toast restaurant.
- Chocolate-dipped s’mores at the Mainely Gourmet Chocolate Factory.
- Glow of a salon window, Deer Street. (Incidentally, it reminded me of this painting that we saw in one of the galleries in town.)–
- Street near downtown, slick with rain.
- Corner shops looking very New Hampshirey.
- Chocolate-bacon cake with salted caramel, Black Trumpet Bistro.
- Shop signage.
- The local church in the sunlight.
- Shark mural near the waterfront.
- French toast, Colby’s Restaurant.–