This won’t be a very good post; I can feel it. I’m rusty. It’s been months – perhaps longer than ever before. But I’m in a writing mood, and especially after all this time, I can’t let that go to waste; maybe I can use it to gain some momentum, warm up a little. Continue reading
Tag Archives: family
This might seem like an ironic post title given what happened in the month of July (i.e. nothing – no new posts or updates, sorry again about that). However, I find that however long I go without posting on WordPress, I always get that itch to come back and continue sharing with all of you: and, more to the point, as soon as I do, I often can’t stem the flow of words and ideas that I suddenly just have to spout forth.
It’s been a while since I’ve been in America, and even longer since I’ve been to Grant’s family home. Because of my world travels, he’s been visiting me in my various homes around the globe for the past year or so; first in Costa Rica last summer, then in Scotland at Christmas, and finally again in France in the spring. I spent about a week with him in Akron last October but never made it to his home town in that short time, so all told it’s been about fifteen months since I’ve been here.
And things have changed since then! The family room has received a beautiful makeover and the gazebo’s been updated too; the first thing I noticed, though, was that Grant’s younger brother has moved into the other room in the basement where his sister used to live. Her absence was sorely missed that first evening when I went to take my shower and found that, in place of her usual array of products carrying such names as ‘Rose Garden’ and ‘Moonlight Whisper,’ I was offered only a single choice of shower gel: ‘Power Stick‘. Continue reading
Hello, dear readers!
So, this whole long-distance relationship thing: it’s a double-edged arrow that Cupid’s sent my way, that’s for sure. I often receive sympathies when I explain that my boyfriend lives in America: mostly in the form of ‘Ohh, it must be so hard to go without seeing him’. Well, that’s true, it is hard. But it’s also tough when we do see each other. You see, flight taxes dictate that I spend much more time over there with his family than he does in Scotland with mine; and when he does visit, we have three weeks to get everything done. Visiting friends, spending coupley time together, travelling, seeing family (especially tough when your parents are divorced and the two sides of the family live all over the place)… it’s a lot to accomplish in a short space of time. Long story short: I’m sorry I haven’t been blogging so much, but when Grant and I are reunited, that pretty much becomes top priority: I hope you all understand.
Hi everyone, and happy Christmas, Hannukah or whatever other celebrations you may be involved in!
As you’ve probably noticed, I haven’t posted in a long time – again. I didn’t post for a while before I came home from Costa Rica, and since then it’s been Christmas central around here so I’m only just now sitting down with my computer to give you all the love and attention you deserve :P
Today I’m going to do something new with this blog: I’m going to post something old. Old pictures, to be precise. Not all of them are very old, but they all seem very much as though they’re from my past now. So this post will mostly be pictures and not many words: something new indeed! I was just looking back at all the pictures in my iPhoto library today, and feeling proud of my life up until now. Here are some photographs that made me stop and think ‘Well done us’.
When I first arrived in the Caribbean, I cried.
Mum seemed a little offended by this, and I was quick to explain that they were not sad tears – although exactly what kind of tears they were I couldn’t say.
I think part of it was stress and exhaustion from a long day’s travelling. Our bus from San José to Cariari was three hours long, and once there, a man with a strong Caribbean accent and no official uniform stuffed me and our luggage in a taxi with a French couple and whisked Mum off on foot to the bus station on the other side of town, from where our next coach left. Turns out he was legit, but at the time I was less than at-ease. From this other bus station, it was another 90 minutes of bumpy, non-air-conditioned journeying to La Pavona where we waited an hour for a boat to come along and take us on the two-hour ride to final destination Tortuguero. Continue reading