15 Years Ago: EFL --> Putting in for Georgia

 

Wow. May 2011 marked the start of a remarkable year in the Caucasus. 

At this point, I had dotted the I's and crossed the T's on two important chapters in my life, having:

• Sold my house and distributed most of my household belongings; and
• Taken my two-month solo trip to Ethiopia. 

And I had poured a new foundation for my envisioned future by earning a CELTA certificate in Playa del Carmen, Mexico. It was such a beautiful thing that family and friends visited with me in Playa during my time there. 

And two friends visited me in Georgia during my tenure there. How extra-special it was to share that life experience.

Wow.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

EFL --> Putting in For Georgia

I'm working on an application to teach English in Georgia.

Not that Georgia.

This Georgia.

This video is a great intro to Georgia - including the Wow! dancing by the kids - especially at 1:19! 

Georgians have a tradition similar to that of the Oromo in Ethiopia - bride kidnapping. In theory, these things don't happen so much anymore. As with Ethiopia, Georgia was among the first countries (however you choose to define "country") to embrace Christianity. Most Georgians are members of the Georgian Orthodox Church. And, as with Amharinga in Ethiopia, the Georgian language uses a unique alphabet. 

When I think of Georgia, I always think of gorgeous scenery and high adventure - swashbuckling soldiers, valiant steeds, and dramatic mountains in the distance. 

No guarantees I'll end up in Georgia, but it is an exciting possibility.

15 Years Ago: My Exclusive Vacation Homes on the Missouri Riviera

In January 2011, I had sold my house in Missouri, but hadn't yet set off on what has been a 15-year slomadic ("slow nomad") journey . Thanks to four women, I had the most marvelous guest homes in Missouri. 

My mother, the proprietor of Carol's Cottage, died in spring, 2021. I don't know if I think of her every day, but I do often. The day before yesterday, for example, while I made my bed and lay down a blanket on the mattress, one from my childhood, I smiled, remembering her phone call one day decades ago: "Do you want to go to a sperm auction with me"? And, of course, I said yes, not knowing in the moment what to expect. (The auction was at a well-known farm with prize-winning bulls, and it was their sperm up for the highest bid.)

Co-hostess of Catrisse Bluff, Charisse, died last summer from a long and painful auto-immune condition,. On the day she died, I was in San Cristobal de las Casas, Mexico, en route on buses to my intended destination of the tippity-toe of South America. That evening, I bought a strong stout from the bartender at my lodging, which I intended to raise to Charisse's spirit. I told the bartender my friend had died. She said to me: "Our people are only on loan to us." 

Pamela House is home to other people now. Pam's flame dims from a different sort of auto-immune malady. She requires care in a skilled facility for the acts of daily living. 

What about Chez Kathryn (which is actually the correct rendition of her name), you might ask? Well, she always keeps the light on for me, and I most recently landed on her doorstep for at least six weeks while I recovered from the pneumonia I picked up in Panama, Ecuador, or Peru in September, and searched for a new-to-me car. Kate features prominently in the Kate on the Loose episodes, in which Pam co-stars. 

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

My Exclusive Vacation Homes on the Missouri Riviera

I have three.

At each, I enjoy expansive garden-level suites with full kitchen and public-room accommodations up on the terrace levels.

At Catrisse Bluff, I enjoy a serene, monastic bedroom in soothing southwestern colors, with a full, private bath across the hall and an adjoining living room that has a wonderful stone fireplace. Upstairs, through a wall of windows, I can look from "my" bluff, across the vast, picturesque Missouri River flood plain, to the distant bluffs on the other side.

At Pamela House, I sleep in an ornate, antique bed in a bedroom with an en suite bath. There is a cozy sitting area next to a large picture window that looks out on pretty foundation plantings. Upstairs, as I sip fresh  coffee, I step through the french doors onto the immense screened-in deck with fireplace. It opens into a friendly yard and garden.







At Chez Katherine, I am in a Parisian apartment, sleeping in a bed so high I need a stool to get in, with a dainty crystal chandelier in front of the garret-like window, and a huge map of Paris on the wall. Yes, I do need to traipse down a tiny corridor and across a roomy family room to get to my private bath, but, well, it is a vacation home, n'est ce pas? One makes do. Upstairs, I enjoy coffee in one of several sink-into-comfort upholstered chairs or couch, or I may walk out to the huge screened-in deck that overlooks a secluded wooded yard; the enclosed deck is reminiscent of a mountain lodge. And did I mention the outdoor shower? The hammock? The swinging, turquoise bench under the arbor?

And, of course, my current, main pied a terre is at Carol Cottage, a sunny yellow place highlighted with Dutch blues and whites, and black and white prints, which sits prettily on a small-town lane.

Carol Cottage

Being rootless does have its perks when one has friends and family who "keep the light on" for you.