"While Laura was still several steps behind me, a man with short graying hair pushed through the crowd and walked right up to me. He looked me in the eye, held up his phone, and asked, 'Is this your wife?' I looked at the picture on his screen. Sure enough. It was Laura with one of the dogs. That's when I put on my angry face."
Back Home and Back in the Majority
It was our final leg, and we were finally sitting on the plane. Chicago to Minneapolis. OK. We can do this. The last time we had gotten decent sleep—"decent" being defined as eight hours in a horizontal position with our heads on a pillow—was Monday night. In the time zone of our departure, it was Thursday morning.
Not To Be Outdone: Our Travels in the West
The alarm sounded at an hour no alarm should ever sound. Ever. It was 3:30. In the A.M. It was our last day in Rome, and from Rome we were going to Menorca, Spain, where we'd spend several days just the two of us before beginning the rounds to visit family and friends spread out … Continue reading Not To Be Outdone: Our Travels in the West
Dreaded Crossings, Part 2
This is post number two in a two-part series. Click here to read part one. "I don't have tenge," I told the Kazakh driver in Kyrgyz. "You can get some," he assured me. And with that, we were off. Sure, nearly five hours had passed by that point since I'd left my house en route … Continue reading Dreaded Crossings, Part 2