When I told friends I was going to walk the Camino to Santiago, they would ask, “Is it like the AT?” “No — I could never walk the Appalachian Trail!” I said. “The Camino is easier because I don’t have to carry a tent or food. You walk through towns, stay in hostels, and eat in restaurants.” Click here to…
Month: June 2013
Help? Yes, Please.
I swung my legs off the top bunk, but as soon as I put weight on my left foot to climb down the ladder, a pain shot up my heel into the back of my leg. Holy crap. What was that? I got down another rung and there is was again. Oh, this is not good. Click here…
The Last Week In June
“Are we doing a gift for Dad? Any idea what he needs?” my sister Jessica texted me. I’m not one to pre-plan for gifts. I just wait and eventually one of my four siblings will contact me and ask if I’ve gotten a gift yet. Upon hearing (and not being surprised) that I haven’t, they’ll…
Decisions, Decisions
As a Resident Assistant at the University of Scranton, one of my jobs was to promote activities being held in our building. This usually involved making signs that were eye-catching and would get students interested. One month the psychology graduate students were tasked with doing a program in our building and my fellow RA’s and I were tasked…
The Joys of Living in Asheville: Part 2
“Did you just step out of the shower?” my co-worker asked. I stood before her with my hair hanging in long wet strands. “I don’t own a hair dryer,” I said by way of explanation. “And I don’t brush my hair after a shower either, so this is what you get.” “I don’t brush mine…
Adventures in Cooking: The Black Bean
I became a vegetarian just over a year ago and one unexpected benefit is a renewed interest in trying new recipes. A month ago I bought dried black beans. I had no idea what the difference was between the canned version I usually bought versus soaking and cooking them myself, but I thought it time…
Free-Spirited Spinster?
I stood on the front porch of the Unwound yarn shop in Blowing Rock, NC, chatting with three women I’d met just a few minutes earlier inside the shop. They were on a day trip to the area. I was two weeks into my sabbatical year, taking my sweet old time driving down the Blue Ridge Parkway….
A Toast: To Not Drinking My Way to Happiness
“I called to say I love you,” I told my father. “Have you been drinking?” he asked. “No.” “Oh–you sound really happy.” I was, but his surprise at my happiness stopped me cold. Was it really that unusual that I sound happy? Perhaps it was because calls to Dad always had a purpose, and–like him–I…
RenaissanceRebecca 