Ecophobia


Ecophobia (noun) Origin: English/Ancient Greek | A fear or dislike of one’s home.

— and so you leave, to find where home is for you. *wink*

This word is based from Ancient Greek in whick ‘eco’ is derived from oîkos or “house”, and then of course ‘phobia’ from phóbos or “fear”.

I do not fear or dislike my home.  I have loved every home I have ever lived in.  My fear is that I may not ever find just one home I prefer over another.

“We travel, some of us forever, to seek other places, other lives, other souls.” – Anais Nin

My dislike is related to not being content to reside in just one place.  One place forever scares me.

“The gladdest moment in human life, methinks, is a departure into unknown lands.” – Sir Richard Burton

Every time I look out my window I see possibilities.  Every time I walk down new streets, I feel reborn.  Even when I am homesick and I go back to my home town, I end up missing .. the feeling of missing my home.

“Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully, you leave something good behind.” – Anthony Bourdain

“I am not the same, having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world.” – Mary Anne Radmacher

The world: Salwa; Debbie; Ben; Isaac; Jackson; Peopletrip; bereaved; tgeriatrix; woollymuses; Amy; Tina; restlessJo; Kritika

Peripatetic


Peripatetic (noun) Origin: Greek | peri·pa·tet·ic A person who spends his time wandering.

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If there is a word that most describes me, it would be this word.  I AM a peripatetic.  I started my life as one and I believe that is how it will end.

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I have mentioned this several times, but from the time I was a very small child. I read books on travel and adventure.  From the wild west to space exploration.  I loved the idea of being anywhere and everywhere.  I loved all things related to magic, space, the future, the past, immortality, and any form of travel, survival, and escape.

My first attempts at travel (meandering and wandering throughout the world), were simple road trips close to home.  I’m not sure why my mom and dad allowed me to drive from Spokane to Shelby at 16, by myself, through a mountainous, and over a sometimes dangerous highway.  But they did, so I did. Meh, it was the 80s.  I’m still alive.

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My best friend in high school was also game for wandering here and there. I think we started in what appears to be the 1800s?

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We wandered by car, dance, skiing, and apparently a bit of cannibalism.  At 17, both of our parents allowed us to drive from Spokane to Seattle and off into Canada. Again, it was the 80s and meh.. we are both still alive..

I have wandered with friends, cousins, kids, and whoever else was game.  I have wandered by train, plane, moto bike, bicycle, boat, balloon, parachute, hashing, hiking, tram, subway, slide, skeleton, camel, elephant, my daughter’s back, and car (just to name a few modes of maneuver).

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My favorite wanderings were by car, followed super closely by train.  I love seeing new things ahead of me but also love seeing what I’m leaving behind in my rearview mirror.

There is something magical about wandering across the U.S. and other countries by car that is difficult to replicate.  One of the beautiful things is when you are in a car is that everything is directly in front of you.  Sometimes it is annoying (heavy traffic) and other times, it simply takes your breath away.

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You are going slow enough to really see things.  If you see something you like, you can stop and take a photo, interact with the actors in this flick that you have just created.  You can experience your surroundings in any way you choose.  Admittedly, sometimes it can be terrifying and sometimes you feel like you have been taken hostage, or you have taken your passengers hostage!! I’m delighted to say that both of my daughters have developed a love of wandering as well.  I personally feel that the many wanderings we have made, have drawn us closer than nearly anything else we have done in our lives.  We have this expansion that has happened in our heads that can never be reduced or taken away.

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The same goes for walking.  When you hike or walk, you are in the thick of it. You can be invisible and interact or you can simply pass through.  I think so many people miss the purpose of travel because they are constantly flying from here to there, simply to get there.  Dude!!! For me it’s the journey.

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“I am not the same, having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world.” – Mary Anne Radmacher

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Wanderings: mousumi; fanny; srikanth; islandtraveler; dave; janny; sonofasailor; alec; ab; artsyfartsy; karen; Gary; laura; geekyhooker; Ruth

City Scapes ~ Damn Sam, Where you been?


“There’s something about arriving in new cities, wandering empty streets with no destination. I will never lose the love for the arriving, but I’m born to leave.”
― Charlotte Eriksson

Whenever I get travel weary, all I have to do is look back on the past 12 years and that crazee wanderlust lights it torch and blinds me once again.  I have been called a vagabond, a gypsy, homeless in theory, among others.  However, the words used would lead one to believe that I do not actually have a home.  Anyone who knows me, knows that no matter where I lay my hat, Spokane is my home.  I just have a natural urge to travel.  I love the food, the sights, the drink, the sounds.

As much as I love to wander and roam… to me there’s really no better place than home.  Until I am ready to go again. It’s the only real addiction I have.

“The world is full of wonderful things you haven’t seen yet. Don’t ever give up on the chance of seeing them.” ~J.K. Rowling

“Half the fun of the travel is the esthetic of lostness.” ~ Ray Bradbury

“You’re not sorry to go, of course. With people like us our home is where we are not… No one person in the world is necessary to you or to me.” ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

“There’s a race of men that don’t fit in,
A race that can’t sit still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin, And they roam the world at will.
They range the field and rove the flood,
And they climb the mountain’s crest; Their’s is the curse of the gypsy blood,
And they don’t know how to rest.”
~Robert Service

Wanderlust:  Angeline; amoralegria; usfman; fandango; henhouselady; blindzanygirl; footloose; mudgha; monkey

Thank a Vet


“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.” — John F. Kennedy

I am unsure where the story came from, but as a veteran myself (21 years Navy), I love the story and the sentiment behind it.  It is not my own, but I love positive stories of the men and women who have served my country and this is really a great one.

The rest of this is the story that is written as I received it.ann m

it’s a story about one of the soldiers in this picture with Ann Margaret and what happened years later when he met her. It will take you about one minute to read it. Here’s the rest of the post:

Richard, (my husband), never really talked a lot about his time in Vietnam, other than a sniper had shot him.

However, he had a slightly grainy, 8 x 10 black and white photo he had taken at a USO show of Ann Margret with Bob Hope in the background that was one of his treasures.

A few years ago, Ann Margaret was doing a book signing at a local bookstore.

Richard wanted to see if he could get her to sign the treasured photo, so he arrived at the bookstore at 12 o’clock for the 7:30 signing.

When I got there after work, the line went all the way around the bookstore, circled the parking lot, and disappeared behind a parking garage.

Before her appearance, bookstore employees announced that she would sign only her book and no memorabilia would be permitted.

Richard was disappointed but wanted to show her the photo and let her know how much those shows meant to lonely GI’s so far from home.

Ann Margaret came out looking as beautiful as ever, and, as second in line, it was soon Richard’s turn.

He presented the book for her signature and then took out the photo.

When he did, there were many shouts from the employees that she would not sign it. Richard said, “I understand. I just wanted her to see it.”

She took one look at the photo, tears welled up in her eyes, and she said, “This is one of my gentlemen from Vietnam, and I most certainly will sign his photo.

I know what these men did for their country, and I always have time for ‘my gentlemen.”

With that, she pulled Richard across the table and planted a big kiss on him.

She then made quite a to-do about the bravery of the young men she met over the years, how much she admired them, and how much she appreciated them.

There weren’t too many dry eyes among those close enough to hear.

She then posed for pictures and acted as if he were the only one there.

That night was a turning point for him. He walked a little straighter and, for the first time in years, was proud to have been a Vet.

I’ll never forget Ann Margaret for her graciousness and how much that small act of kindness meant to my husband.

Later at dinner, Richard was very quiet. When I asked if he’d like to talk about it, my big, strong husband broke down in tears, “That’s the first time anyone ever thanked me for my time in the Army,” he said.

I now make it a point to say ‘Thank you’ to every person I come across who served in our Armed Forces.

Freedom does not come cheap, and I am grateful for all those who have served their country.

If you’d like to pass on this story, feel free to do so.

Perhaps it will help others to become aware of how important it is to acknowledge the contribution our service people make.

— Wife of Vietnam War Veteran.

Day 23 ~ When we all were black and white


When I think of black and white photos .. I think of the olden days.. like… you know.. my mom and dad’s era and before.. A romantic period of time that was all black and white. The photos were glorious in that you just can not determine when they were taken.  There is something so special about them that it makes me want to go back to that time and meet all of the folks in the photos.  I think that black and white photos are more interpretive.  When photos are in color you can often guess the era and sometimes even the location the photo was taken.

“I think it’s because it was an emotional story, and emotions come through much stronger in black and white. Color is distracting in a way, it pleases the eye but it doesn’t necessarily reach the heart.” – Kim Hunter

I think that is why I love black and white photos.  With black and white, you can get away from the distractions and focus on the content.  It’s like an Alfred Hitchcock show.  When you are not allowed to see all of the details, your mind has to make up what is not obvious. It’s more attractive and more mysterious in my opinion.

A final few of my favorites from the past.  Just can’t get enough of the black and whites.