The Bastard Child of Two Dreams

After a recent conversation with my husband, I realized that our tiny house is the bastard child of these two very different dreams. Built on wheels, with a traditional facade and an interior with bits of modern design, the house is a confused byproduct of two goals and two lifestyles — and a symbol of my fragmented self.

Gone ’til November: From Park City to Phoenix

I was away for most of October, first for work — at the annual Automattic grand meetup in Park City, Utah — and then on a two-week road trip with Nick through Utah and Arizona. I’ve traveled so much around the world in the past two decades. This trip has easily become my favorite.

This Is Not a “Travel Blog” (But It Is a Travel Blog)

In her essay about life on tour with a rock band, Claire L. Evans says that travel teaches her more about time than it does about place. I agree. My favorite kind of “travel writing” — or I suppose writing about place — embarks on an inner journey, and uses a physical location as a diving board into one’s depths, into their mind. On a recent plane ride, I read a lovely piece called “Seeds” by Thao Thai about her grandfather and his garden, growing up, and Vietnam. The post isn’t about “travel,” and yet the journey the writer takes me on is…