We Take Ourselves With Us

We went to Seattle in winter--when it was damp, grey, foggy, chilly and at its most Seattle-est.  We broke up.  I spent my days in a series of hotel meeting rooms; they spent them exploring.  When I was finally turned loose and walked the market with them, merchants waved hello to them and knew their names.  We felt wooly and plaid, understood grunge, couldn't survive without steaming cups of coffee and brown bags of freshly made little donuts.  We wouldn't leave the library.  We loved walking the city and discovering fun and funkiness around each corner--like the goth couple getting married at the Public Market or the Hammering Man, a mirror of one back in our then-hometown.  On the way back, we took a redeye and ate a real, hearty breakfast in the Detroit airport--another winter city.  The metallic grey blue-black of the season felt so much like home; fit like a worn in cardi.  We should have known it was an omen of things to come. 

Once upon a time, we discovered a small island off the coast of Savannah: Tybee.  To reach it, we drive over low country marshes and back in time. We stay in old beach cottages with outdoor showers, brightly colored interiors, and always sandy floors.  We traipse over the dunes to the never crowded beach each morning, looking for dolphins, gathering shells, watching the tankers head out to sea, and crashing the waves.  We sit on the ever moving borderline between sand and surf, letting the foamy waves cover our feet while we read soggy paperbacks.  We fly kites and build castles.  We use tide pools as hot tubs.  We drift home to lunch and nap.  Then we repeat.  Sometimes if it rains, we see rainbows over the ocean after.  We stock up at the IGA, filling the fridge with fizzy drinks, fruit, and island goodies.   When we want even more food, we drive back to Savannah and eat like true Southerners.  While there we visit the cemetery or wander a square.  At night, we fall into our sandy b

We are not cruise people.  We do not go on vacation to meet others, to play bingo, to gamble, to drink, to binge eat.  We go on vacation to be a family, to see new things, to rediscover old, to laugh, to go and go and go until we drop, to relax, to laugh--in short, to make memories.  Yet, we took two Disney cruises and loved them.  We watched the sea change color as it passed by, captivated by the wooshing waves.  We dozed on the deck, took strolls, and explored.  We hid from ports, owning the boat.  We made and hung "fish extenders" and traded gifts with total strangers we never met.  We were wowed by towel creatures, yummy meals, and gracious staff.  We saw a world premiere movie in in the middle of the night in our jammies and fireworks in the middle of the ocean.  We had an entire pool to ourselves one night while Tinkerbell played on a giant movie screen overhead and stars twinkled above.  We dressed like pirates for dinner and dancing and blended right in.  We karaoked

The title of this blog comes from a quote from Neil Gaiman's remarkable novel, The Graveyard Book : "Wherever you go, you take yourself with you." And, indeed, wherever we go, we take ourselves with us. Seattle, San Francisco, Long Beach, Los Angeles, Phoenix, the Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls, Austin, Dallas, Chicago, Milwaukee, Miami, Orlando, Tampa, St. Petersburg, Savannah, Tybee, New York City, DC, the Poconos, Cozumel, Grand Cayman, Toronto, Ottawa, and more. Each adventure comes with us on the next, creating traces, memories and echoes that bind us as a family.  This blog is a portrait of our journeys, in photos and fragments.  We take ourselves with us--and we invite you along.