Madrid, Paris and London in two weeks. Wow. Awesome trip. I tried to look at it a little differently here and there along the way. Here’s some of what I saw –
Madrid, Paris and London in two weeks.
I met my daughter, Saela, in Madrid on June 25, which happened to be the 25th anniversary of my wedding to my lovely bride, Cassi. It was tough to be apart on that day, but the next couple of weeks made up for it.
Saela and I flew to Paris and met Cassi, Martin V and Mira on June 27. We were there for five days, checking out the “usual” awesome stuff, like the Eiffel Tower, Sacré-Cœur and Champs-Élysées, except for one day to and from Valenciennes in northern France for a World Cup football match at the Stade du Hainaut between The Netherlands and Italy. (The Dutch won and went on to meet the USA in the final.)
The EuroStar took us through The Chunnel to London on July 2. In addition to all the “usual” sights, like Westminster Abbey, St. Paul’s Cathedral and The Tower of London, we also traveled to Leavesden in Hertfordshire one evening to take in the Warner Bros. Studios Harry Potter Experience. They shot all of the movies there, and the Harry Potter Experience is now a permanent part of the campus.
I tried to look at it a little differently here and there along the way. Here’s some of what I saw:
Continue reading “Three Cities”
Good fortune comes in all shapes and sizes, and sometimes travels in a little Mazda pickup. Where it’s headed after a few months is anyone’s guess.
The Border Brothers & One of the Best Stories Ever
“What the fuck, man!”
The other redhead leaned in to look closely at what I held gingerly between my thumb and forefinger.
“I been lookin’ for one of those my whole life!” he exclaimed.
“No, I’m serious!” he said, actually getting upset now. “My whole fuckin’ life.”
He paused, took another good look, then started counting with his forefinger. “One…two…three…four. Ah, man!” He took a step back.
“An’ you’re seriously tellin’ me you’ve never even looked for one before?”
“Never,” I assured him. His face was boiling.
“Beginner’s luck?” I said sheepishly, shrugging my shoulders. “I am part Irish.”
He harrumphed, stepped forward again, took another look.
“Fuckin’ A!” he exclaimed. Then, “Well…” –slapped me on the back – “my whole goddamned life … I guess…. Guess I’ll just hafta keep lookin’.” He backed up, bent down and started looking through the patch of clover again.
Continue reading “Colorado Rocky Mountain Luck”