Was it jet lag or had everything in Wrigleyville?
I’m not just talking about the two middle-aged women whom I haven’t seen since they were young men
Chicago-ing, going, gone
Beleza (Beauty)
Vincent Van Gogh It was about four AM in the morning in Madrid, me with a backpack my sister in her long- haul yoga pants. We are middle aged flowers in a city full of beautiful people, wilting like one of the still-life paintings in the Prado museum. Old ladies in dresses hobbling on cobble stone streets (not in Costco […]
Just Did It: Camino Santiago
If my feet could talk, what would they say? After taking part of the El Camino Santiago pilgrimage, my ten little piggies and not-so-little bunion would say more than pass the Epsom salts please.
Transformation
Life repeats itself. Ten years ago, I was Madrid, Spain, waiting for a train to Alicante, my life at its lowest. My mom just died, my husband just left me in China, and my life was condensed down to one hundred pounds and a carry-on. I was in Spain to visit my nephew to make sure he was actually studying […]
birthday boobies (and other birds)
I never would have imagined spending my 63rd birthday looking at boobies.
Uh…not cleavage, but the Peruvian bird.
Marathon
We all have a pair of running shoes inside of us.
Watching the Paint Dry
Living overseas is like watching paint dry in another country. A lot of same-o same-o.
Look Up
Sometimes I hate it here.
But then I look up.
Or look at birds, which is why I skipped church that day.
Minority
There I am at this bus station, trying to stay warm before dawn when my eyes spotted the egg-shaped woman on a blanket.
Viernes Santo (Good Friday)
In her last years, my mom was convinced she was a part-time prophet of Jesus. I didn’t doubt her, except for her story about Moses having a gun.