“Let it go,” despite its dubious connotations with 90s-era psychobabble and Disney song lyrics, is a cliché with staying power. Because sometimes you must let it go.
The man I married and I share a few fundamental differences, but the most glaring is this: he is a proficient skier, and I am not. Multiple ski trips and at least three different encounters with private lessons have done little to raise my level of skiing fitness beyond “perpetual beginner,” as my husband lovingly… Read More Should Have Known Better
I spent my 40th birthday in what must be the least appealing venue: an airport, on a layover. Despite being logistically essential to many journeys, layovers rarely rate with the experience of the destination itself, and people will do anything to avoid it. Get from Point A to Point B, and forget what’s in between.… Read More Layover
Fact: If you book a weekend trip from London to Hamburg, Germany, for a family of four, leaving on a Friday night, when the man of said family has just arrived home Friday morning from a week-long business trip to South Africa, you will announce yourselves in Hamburg with a pissy, plodding walk through the… Read More Weekend Hamburgers
My mother came for a visit to the UK, our first American visitor. It was a wonderful visit, except that my mother was convinced I was trying to kill her the whole time. The motive was unclear (at first, anyway), but the methods were many: 1. Death by podiacide. I don’t think “podiacide” is a… Read More Mom Makes Landfall