Window to the World

When I was 21, I was just a girl living in Madrid, going to a foreign school and living in a foreign land. In my apartment homestay my room looked out to the building’s inner atria, communal clothesline, and ultimately- the sky.


It was here that I peered out each morning in the utter quiet of the Arguelles neighborhood we inhabited. It was here that I looked to see what the weather would be like (sunny nearly every single day), how late it was (if I was late for class), and any clues for what the day might bring.

When I stepped out the outer gate and turned my key, I might stroll past the neon green cross of the farmacia, or dodge schoolchildren coming from the colegio on the corner. If I was hungry, there was a Supersol or El Corte Ingles within a block.

But in the quiet mornings all alone in the apartment, I slowly savored my daily routine of mixing up some instant coffee (yes, and I truly enjoy the right kind of instant coffee), laying in my bed, and soaking in the little bit of light coming down through the high rise opening.

In this time, I reconnected with home. I read e-mails from family and dear friends back home and on their own travels, and I regrouped for the day. I listened to music as loudly as my laptop speaker would play for these brief moments when I had the place all to myself, and got ready for another day out in the world.

These pictures will always remind me of my time to myself, my time looking out the window, a sort of portal to those I love.

When you travel for longer periods of time, what keeps you grounded and reminds you of home? Do you ever feel homesick or create a routine to create comfort for yourself and unwind?

Get psyched up- as a tribute to the end of travel month, I’m planning a special 2 part weekend post to keep myself sated until the next travel month begins! Tune in tomorrow!

Meri
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Colorado Rocky Road

Nineteen years old, hair freshly rid of at least ten inches, and weeks to go until university is back in session.
My friend and I pack up his eggplant GTI with some clothes, some food, and a map plotting our route to southern California. We are ready to go.


Flying down the freeway with the bass pumping (ironically, I’m hearing Atmosphere singing “90 East towards Chicago, all the way to Cincinnati…” which would be the opposite direction we were going…), we whiz down 35 and and then I-80. Nebraska is a blur save for a few Old West Tourist Traps, and by the following morning we have cleared our backpacks out of the random Ogalalla motel and are just inches from Colorado.


We sort of have the ideas in our heads that Iowa and Nebraska are throwaway states, and that the real beauty will begin when we get to Colorado, so we are psyched. (This, by the way, turned out to be pretty accurate). As we plunge into the foothills in the easternmost part of the state, I am suddenly convinced that we are in the “old west.”


Soon after, I learn the meaning of the sign “truck slide.”Neither this, nor the signs in the western part of the state informing you of no gas or civilization for hundreds of miles, have me any less concerned about our safety in the mountains… and people drive through here in the winter? With ice on the roads? Incomprehensible! 

We stop in a small mountain town to get gas, and stretch our legs. Soon, we drive past a scenic overlook, and for the first time (of many more in the next few days) I screech “OOOH, PRETTY! LET’S STOP!”
We need to stop for a snack anyway, so we pull over, and feast our eyes on the deciduous scenic glory and fresh mountain air. I bet the tap water tastes like diamonds out here…


With a picnic of peanut butter jar and grocery store bread (not gourmet bread, mind you, but college student sale bread) we take in the scenery and stretch our legs. Pretty incredible to behold, the mountains in the summer air.

We went on through the duration of our adventure from the diners, drive ins and dives of Utah, past suicide turns in the mountain gorges of Nevada, past Native American markets and the Grand Canyon. We sampled the southwest and drove up through the Kansas Turnpike. And of course, there was the 3 or 4 days we spent at his brother’s apartment in Huntington Beach. But I still remember my first glimpses of America’s west…

A vast and incredible country seemingly untouched by civilization (though the freeways running through it would suggest otherwise). No one for miles and miles, and nothing to see except incredible vistas and colors. 

A truly beautiful and incredibly diverse country we live in!

What kind of road trippin’ experiences do you all have? Do you get that exhilarating rush when you enter the great unknown?

Meri
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Tete a Tettegouche

When I was a wee lass, family vacations entailed my mom, pop, three sisters and I. They sometimes included extended relatives or family friends, but the core group was “relatively” small (sorry- pun addict here).


We’ve since grown both in years and in size. We’ve gained three brothers-in-law, three lovely nieces, and a man-go-round! Thus, when we took a family trip to the North Shore (Lake Superior for you non-Minnesotans) we ended up renting quite a swanky and sizable pad for the duration. A lovely lofted lodge where I could rest my feet:


After getting our fill of the serenity of Gitchigumi (just my daily bastardization of the art of spelling, probably…)


…”just the 10 of us” (and one more in my sisters’ belly would make 11)… took our show on the road to Tettegouche State Park, to return to one of my parents’ favorite North Shore spots- the lush falls of the Baptism River (which my dad reports he thinks are maybe the highest in the state). 

Our raucous crew spent the short drive rehearsing a song we had invented on our way to Grand Marais previously in the vacation. It goes to the tune of “Silver Bells,” with a refrain including, “Silver Bay… Grand Marais…” and verses that rhyme floozing with boozing and others are pooping… 

Needless to say, our spirits were quite convivial by the time we parked the car. We piled out in the still dry air, ready for an easy hike up to see the falls. Our crew at this point included several adults and one toddler in a backpack. We were ready to go!

In small mini- groups, we headed up the trail and noticed a slight sprinkle in the air. A few minutes later the drops were plopping instead of fizzing, and quite emboldened in their fall. 

Okay, now it was downright downpouring in the space of 2 or 3 minutes. Determined, we plodded on.

By the time we got to the end of the trail to see the falls, it was a straight up rainstorm. 


Covering my camera with my jean jacket sleeves to protect it, gasping at the beauty of it, and screeching with delight at the sheer earthiness of it all, we gave in to Mother Nature and called it a day.

Running down the path back to the cars, we were enlivened by the fresh air, the fresh storm, and the falls. Later we would warm up back at our cabin manse on the lake, and recall those big fat raindrops falling down with the falls.

What do you do when it “rains on your parade?” I try not to let it get me down, and sometimes it ends up making the experience all the more memorable! 

Thanks for stopping by today!
Meri
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Get her to the Greco!

Just a hop skip and a whizzzzzz from central Madrid, we hurtle down the tracks out of town. My mom is sitting next to me, my dad across from me, and Castillian plains flash by out the windows of the AVE.


I excitedly chatter to my parents about the sights I most want to see on our afternoon sojourn to Toledo. Always an avid art lover, my recent focus on the art most famous to Spain has me filled to the brim with El Greco Fever. Something along the given name of “Domenicus Theokopotolous,” El Greco is a beloved Spanish hero. He hangs proudly all over the Prado with the likes of Velasquez, Miro, and Dali. A semester of History of Spanish Art has provided me with more information about the obscure works of this painterly painter than anyone should probably have.


So we arrive (most quickly, thanks to the high-speed train) in Toledo a short time later. I think we stop for pizza at a local cafe. We wander the incredibly narrow streets investigating synagogues and mosques, and for a short time we find ourselves illegally inside of an art school. Nothing too interesting…


I determinedly march my parents over to the El Greco Museum


And then promptly realize that it is closed. 

Not to be deterred, I then navigate our party to the Church of Santo Tome to find a mural I have so excruciatingly been memorizing, analyzing, and dissecting in the past weeks.


We arrive, and we enter. The mural is beautiful, and I’m elated telling my parents all of the history of the painting and church. Things on our El Greco Scavenger Hunt are looking up!

art-reproductions.net

We walk on, exploring more of the lovely town. There are other sights to be seen, of course, but on my art tour few are on my radar. I’m content and enchanted, taking in the town and soaking up all I can of my parents during their visit.

But little do we know that the best is yet to come. Just up ahead, as we travel through the misty afternoon, I suddenly have run up along a hillside… as I’m pretty sure this is no average vista…



Is this looking familiar to any Hispanophiles or art lovers? Are any of you recalling a certain broody, storm lit painting most iconic of the town of Toledo?

penwith.co.uk

I have found myself lost in my own Toledo landscape, suggested by El Greco and made real by this magical day. I haven’t had a “Magical Day with Matisse,” I’ve had a Grand day with El Greco!

So that’s my story of my day in Toledo, excited about life and excited about learning.

Have you people ever gotten excited about a famous work of art or a famous location? Was it as good as you hoped when you saw it or got there? I’ve had a very anticlimatic moment with a Dali painting…

Meri

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The Merchants of Venice, California

‘Ello loves!


As you may recall, last week during our visit to Lovely Los Angeles, the Mr. Merry and I lodged in Venice. All biceps, boardwalks, and bygone classic rockers aside, Venice is an adorable community within LA which I became oh so charmed with on our visit.

Sure, there are tourist traps along the boardwalk. Sure, the canals are technically a bit cheesy, and you will probably have “Love Street” in your head for the duration of your time there (at least I did…) but on the plus side you have an enchanting stretch of beach, neat storefronts filled with charming wares, and friendly locals with puppies peppering the ocean front who are oh so willing to stop and let you gush over their pets for a mere song.

 



It’s official, I heart Venice. Here are a few of the charming ways I “consumed” Venice!

1. After a sweaty day marching down to the Santa Monica Pier and back, I was struck blind by some shining baubles in a classic kiosk on the boardwalk. Now, I typically avoid these things like the plague (who needs another woven friendship bracelet or bobble head doll, right?) but being sort of an earring spazz who lives life in search of the perfect shape/ size earrings for my head shape, when you see “the ones,” you STOP!

tkdesigner1@aol.com
These lovely mint green glass earrings grabbed my attention, and after satisfactorily holding them up to my ears for a few minutes and squealing in delight, man-go-round threw a fiver at the lovely Teresa Kole, designer, and they were MINE! (thank you mister!)

2. Later in the week, I strolled down Washington looking for trouble a cuppa Joe, and wandered into this random surf shop (cliche, I know… so shoot me). After fondling the soft sweaters and tees, I came upon this baby:

it’s wrinkly because I’ve already slept in it about 5 nights…
As I scooped up this supersoft tee (the only one, and in my size! Holla!) I chatted for a bit with the proprietor, who informed me that the shirts are made in the shop (they are literally made in Venice…) by a man standing just outside the shop. Hey, to see the dude who screen printed my new camisa? Gracias!
I will return one day to Ocean Echo Surf Shop, where I purchased this baby on a sunny, surf-worthy morning.

3. Lastly, on our final day in California, we decided to spend the morning grabbing some coffee and window shopping on Abbot Kinney, a sort of arty/hipster enclave slightly inland Venice. Part art galleries, part cafe/coffee shop, and part unique-boutique, Abbot Kinney is Lyn-Lake and Nordeast and Grand Avenue, if they had a gurgling baby named Sunshine.

at Ten Women, a local gallery and artist co-op, I fell in love with artist Lys Wilcox, and her “Dot’s Daughter Designs.” If you’re in the area, check her out!

down the road at Abbot’s Habit, we stopped for a bite and some caffeine to get out of the sun, and were greeted with the friendliest barista I have maybe ever encountered.

we mosied on a bit after refueling, and what should catch my eye but the color explosion of quintessential surf style boutique Aviator Nation… maybe it was the bright colors, the classic mural on the wall, or the “hold it against your cheek” soft t-shirts and hoodies… If it’s retro, mod, or classic americana surf, chances are I’m gonna like it. 



I did enjoy myself!

Thank you Venice- 
for your kindness, your hospitality, your Whole Foods the size of 4 MN Whole Foods…

Thank you for your sun and your fun.

I shall return, wallet akimbo, and heart open.

Cheers!
Meri
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Yertle the Turtle

Hi all- how’s your Sunday goin’?
I spent the morning trying to make my blog look more the way I want it to (I’m pathetic with this, if only template design were as fun as blogging is…) I hope you like the new aqua blues, inspired by the Caribbean! 

So I’ll stick with this Caribbean theme, and take you way back to third grade, to our family trip to the Cayman Islands!

I was quite a character then. Well, some might say I still am, but I certainly tried and vied for the role of “ham” as the youngest of four girls. Here I am, dressed to impress out on the high seas. My dad was busy diving for conch shells, and I was pretty much busy stomping around the boat in snorkeling gear I failed to use out in the reef.


Nearer to the shore, we had the incredible experience of swimming amongst the sting rays in the absolutely glass clear water. I’m pretty sure I darted around trying to get “just close enough” without actually touching them, but I think my dad had a more intimate experience with a friendly ray. I’ve never seen one of these guys since that trip, and I think I’m due!


Somewhere before or during this holiday, I developed an obnoxious obsession with turtles. I’m not sure where this came from, but I basically pranced around the island professing my love for each and every turtle that we saw, orating on their majestic presence at the turtle farm we visited, and buying paraphernalia emblazoned with all varieties of tortoise and turtle. First love, what can you do?


I’m sure if turtles have the abilities to see in the back of their heads, process this experience, and commit it to long term memory (who says they can’t?) They remember a 9 year old, scrawny and scrappy, blossom-hat wearing, scratchy voiced creature promising to visit them again one day. If they don’t remember this, I’m sure my poor parents and sisters could remind them. And I can’t disappoint the turtles, right??

So I guess that means I must return to the lands of white sands, aqua waters, and incredible creatures.

What kinds of cool animals have you encountered on your travels?

G’night! 

Meri

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Degree in advanced "marketing"

No, I’m not going back to school. At least not for marketing…


After our recent visit to the Saturday morning farmer’s market in Santa Monica, CA, I’m feeling nostalgic about fresh markets and farmer’s markets visited in other cities. Minneapolis has some pretty good farmer’s markets in the warmer months (I’m partial to the Lyndale, the NE one if only because it’s by Emily’s Lebanese, and the small one on Nicollet for the juxtaposition between skyscraper and fresh berries or flowers…) and I’ve embarrassingly enough never been to the downtown St. Paul market, which I hear is the one to beat in the area… but I seem to prioritize fresh local food when I travel, so that I can save some of the “dining out” money, and check out the local growing scene.


I enjoyed the petite Santa Monica market when we visited. It was only one aisle with stands on either side, which made it a quick and easy market with some delightful treats nonetheless. 

trolling for citrus fruits…

rosemary dried plums all juicy in the sunny cafe window!

and of course, a market wouldn’t be a market without flowers!


 

 


Man-go-round and I had fun strolling up and down the market, sampling the mint honey sticks, cheese, and ultra juicy red dried plum slices.


I also had the opportunity to meet up with Eden, whose blog I read daily and who was kind enough to give us lots of tips for our trip! She’s charming in real life as in her blog, and we sat and had a cup of coffee after picking up some foods, and watched the market dissemble as the day turned into afternoon.


What other markets have I enjoyed? Well, I’ve been to tons of smaller markets hocking breads, produce, jewelry, handmade soaps and clothing, and flowers. Of these, the more traditional markets that are similar to ones at home but with variations in seasonal produce and/ or specialty eats such as hot rolls, fresh roasted nuts, or delicious coffee usually strike my fancy.


For example, when visiting San Francisco last year man-go-round and I were lucky enough to stay in a relatives’ high rise overlooking the bay bridge and embarcadero. Due to this prime location we were able to hit the Ferry Building market twice in our 5 day stay. 


One visit was dedicated (for me, at least) to trying all of the fruit and dried fruit I could pack in my little tummy. They say you can get a meal by sampling things at this market, and I was doubtful. I needn’t have been, the vendors are incredibly generous and outgoing. If, however, you haven’t gotten your fill from the market, you can always stop inside the Ferry Building and get some Blue Bottle Coffee or stop at one of the restaurants inside.  Or you could walk down the embarcadero a few piers and stop at TCHO chocolate for some of the best chocolate made in S.F.! They also give samples of their delicious choc, and apparently tours (although we bypassed this).


Finally, I’m fixing on reliving my short afternoon spent in Seattle after my cousin’s wedding a few years ago. We spent the weekend in Bellingham, which is a very unique place, and hit the farmer’s market there. It was typical of a smaller city market, and enjoyable. We had a morning to kill before our flight, so we headed to the city to investigate the Space Needle and Pike’s Place market…

No better place for tulips than Washington!

Freeeeesssshhhhh FISH!

So of course we did the cursory “fish throwing” skit, and wandered around in the hazy morning. This market probably beats all other markets I’ve visited in my life for location- it’s pretty hard to beat. We got some coffee, walked around some more, and enjoyed taking it all in. On my way out I picked up a croissant with jalapenos and cheese melted into it. I am not crazy about pastries/ breads, but I knew I wouldn’t get fed on the flight and airport food can be sketchy at best. I was pleased to find that this treat was absolutely delicious, and made my trip home much more bearable!

So there you have it- a few local markets to check out if you are in the area. Stop by one to pick up some locally grown food… it usually tastes great and saves you a bit of money while traveling. Plus, the people watching…

‘Nuff said 🙂

Alright loves- tell me about the markets in your town or markets you’ve visited on vacation… I’m going to start a list!

Happy Saturday!
Meri

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A Hundred Grand! (cities and towns…)

Early in October, 2010, I stood in the shower with the lovely hot water pouring down… and the whim suddenly struck me that I might enjoy starting a blog to catalog the many “deep thoughts” that fly around in my head as I shower, walk to and from work, and meander through life.


A few short months later, and I am amazed to see that I have reached my 100th post!

Let’s Celebrate with Cake!





In the spirit of celebration, I thought I’d pay a tribute to 100 U.S. cities and towns; some interesting, some not so much… all of them I have passed through for long time or short. Here it goes…
(okay, so it’s 70 cities and 30 comments to add to 100!)


Arizona
Jerome
Sedona
Phoenix- Heard Museum, Indian Art Fair
Cave Creek
Surprise
Carefree- made fun of the name…
Scottsdale- counted hummers (bummers…) while sitting at happy hour
Flagstaff
Oak Creek
Grand Canyon


California
Palm Springs
San Diego- looked at schools
San Francisco
Los Angeles
Huntington Beach- X-games!
Long Beach
Barstow- ate at a random Denny’s
Palm Desert


Colorado


Florida
Orlando- got diarrhea (2 years old) and pooped ALL over Disney…


Georgia
Social Circle- gorgeous southern mansions!


Hawaii
Lahaina- watched someone in a Marathon in this whaling village!


Iowa
Cedar Rapids- friend got married!
Iowa City


Illinois
Gurnee- LPGA baby
Chicago- observed a prostitute “in action”


Massachusettes
Boston- ate at Cheers- a baked potato, that is…
Cape Cod


Michigan
Ann Arbor- antique market
Ypsilanti- got tipsy in Ypsi!
Birmingham


Minnesota
Minneapolis- met man-go-round
St. Paul- got schooled
St. Cloud
Stillwater
Red Wing
Nisswa- lots of mini-golf!
Brainerd
Duluth
Chanhassan
Foley
Hastings- “memmmmmmories” (Cats)… with my sista
Little Falls- many fast food stops as a kiddo!
Rockville
Lake Pepin- ate leftover wedding cake
Princeton
Lutsen
Grand Marais- I need not say more than, “silver bay… grand marais….”
Edina
Saint Louis Park
Owatonna- Hy Vee!


Missouri
Liberty


Montana
Miles City- almost was orphaned… Dad I am sorry…


Nebraska
Ogalala
Lincoln- funeral


New Mexico
Albuquerque- ate at a subway


New York
Manhattan
Niagara Falls


North Dakota
Aberdeen- attended a bridal shower!


South Dakota
Sioux Falls
Vermillion


Texas
Amarillo


Washington
Seattle
Bellingham
Fairhaven
Mount Vernon- infamous… Kate if you want to tell this one you can, otherwise I’ll just laugh to myself…


Wisconsin
Bayfield- made some lovely friends!
Madison- cow tour…
Milwaukee- dressed as Velma from Scooby Doo
La Crosse
River Falls
Ashland


Well that’s it! Certainly a quick list, but I hope you enjoy this trip down memory lane. I’d go into more detail, but this would get quite long, and the subjects of the stories might wish me some harm!


Cheers to 100 posts, and many hundreds more! Thank you for your love and comments, they make me happy each and every time I read them.


Meri

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beach, please…

(alternate title: “life’s not always a beach.”)


photo credit


The setting… Orient Beach, St. Martin


After a harrowing and sort of nauseating half hour cab ride, you can almost taste the salt in the air. Visions of white sand and gently crashing waves are starting to lure you in. You’re fifteen, and you can’t believe you’re in this strange land that alternates between Dutch and French within the space of a short drive. 

Piling out of the car, you excitedly run out onto the beach. It’s a partly cloudy day, so the beach isn’t overly populated, and when the sun comes out you dart around in the waves, and then crash under a cabana. After the requisite splashing and arranging some shells in a pattern on the beach, you gaze out at the water on this  idyllic island.

It’s a perfect day for bananafish! (This Salinger reference will make you all too uncomfortable in a moment, I promise…)

Being a young’un, you now have tired of this beach activity and are looking for some lunch. You gather sloppily around a picnic table at an outdoor restaurant while jealously ogling the sunglasses of the college-aged bartender (you are a shallow 15 year old, remember?) and you note to yourself that you MUST learn french so you can be just like her…

After eating something not memorable (I can’t for the life of me remember more about this restaurant than the picnic table and that girl’s sunglasses…) you need to hit the ladies room. Being very grown up, you are able to take on this task by yourself.

Off you dart through the labyrinth-like path to the bathroom. Ah, a sign! This way! You peer around corners of the leafy maze, must be nearly there…

WHOA!

The middle-aged (and seemingly European) man intersecting at the corner in front of you is your FIRST clue that Orient Beach is, in fact, partially a nude beach. 

I think I forgot I had to go to the bathroom after that…

Like I said, it was a perfect day for bananafish…


Have you ever had a funny experience at the beach? Do tell!

Meri
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Gimme Shelter

Hi Folks! I’ve been back in Minnesota for less than 48 hours, and already I’ve scouted tickets for my next adventure and ransacked my local library branch for literature and ideas. (Hint… I’ll be returning to the desert…)


When I go to Arizona, I’m lucky enough to stay at my parents’ lovely compound, free to cook, lounge, launder, and cocktail as I please. I have a free place to watch sunsets and a home base generally stocked with peach Fresca (well, I think… I”m guessing no one has touched it since I was there last, since I’m the only human I know who likes it…)


But what does a traveler do if they haven’t lucked out with such a homestay? Then we are likely in the market for a charming hotel, B & B, hostel, or other lodging to rest our heads after a long day of traveling and exploring. As your dedicated blog researcher, I’ve compiled a short list of worthy places worth checking out. 


1. BEST VIEW
…and the award goes to my most recent lodging, the Venice on the Beach Hotel (on Venice Beach, CA, as the name suggests…)
Highlights include the rooftop terrace perfect for watching sunrise/sunsets (see yesterday’s post for details…), free use of internet, outdoor patio, breakfast buffet, around the clock candy (I think I ate an entire bowl of caramels…), Peet’s coffee, use of a microwave and refrigerator in our room, and fabulous location. We were super happy with the hotel, and since we don’t need a lot of space it was perfect for our budget too. Plus, it’s pink, so I’m sold…

You can almost smell the salty beach air from your computer, right?

2. BEST “ENJOY IT NOW BECAUSE YOU WILL NEVER AFFORD IT ON YOUR OWN” HOTEL:
Alright- my sisters are going to have to stop reading now, less they bludgeon me to death for not getting to go on this trip, but…
Four Seasons on Maui. Yes, thank you to father’s work trip, I was afforded the luxury of a first class trip to Hawaii when I was a wee lass (old enough to drive the convertible somewhat legally…)
Best thing about this place? Um, our 7 bedroom suite? The fresh fruit? The beachfront but pool included amenities? The ridiculous room service or scenic balcony overlooking… heaven? I’ll stop. You’ve heard of the place, and if you ever get to stay here, think of me when you’re strolling through palm trees to a sunset luau. I’m still dreaming of it…

3. BEST SUPER CHEAP URBAN MOTEL
Baldwin Hotel, San Francisco CA
We only stayed there one night, since we lucked out with the use of a high rise condo for free for the remainder of our trip (seriously, when will my luck run out? I lose sleep over this…) but this adorable motel at the gates of Chinatown was $60 a night, and seriously not sketchy. Small? Yes. Charming and well managed? Yes. Will I return? Absolutement!

4. BEST PLACE TO PARTY LIKE ITS… ANY YEAR!
Oasis Backpacker’s Hostel, Lisbon Portugal
While technically a hostel, this place is far swankier than many places I have lived… It’s fun to meet other travelers, it has fantastic showers (after months living in a place where you have to hold the shower head over your hair, the importance I put on this might be a bit inflated…)
Breakfast, computers, super nice bathrooms, friendly and hip staff ready to guide you anywhere, and like-minded roommates to hit the town with? And it sits atop a hill with balconies overlooking this?

looks like San Francisco, but it is indeed Lisboa!


Honorable mentions:
1. The Golden Sickle (Prague)
2. Roadway Inn (anywhere)
3. Bulldog (Amsterdam)


Now, you’re welcome for giving up my secret places! Where do you stay when you travel… hostels? swanky hotels? roadside motels? (I didn’t discuss these, but I happen to love them…)? in a tent? Do tell!


With love from the tundra,
Meri

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