My parents were both half Norwegian. Mom's maternal family originally were the Kjilis, which someone at Ellis Island translated as Kelly. Dad's paternal family were the Amundsons, which someone at Ellis Island translated as Amerson.
Today, thinking about making a home, staying put, and leaving for new vistas. The writing will come. For now, these images of water life in Amsterdam.
Then we landed in Amsterdam, a city that seemed to have a bookstore on every corner, and not just books in Dutch but in English and Italian and German
After the hustle of checking the sights off the list in Paris, it was heaven to wander through the Jardin du Luxembourg along with every other combination of families on a Sunday afternoon.
I wished that Mom could have been with my husband and me during our visit to Amsterdam (too late to see tulips in bloom, but found some in a vase) and Paris in May, and especially when we visited Claude Monet's home and gardens .
When I was nine, I thought I’d become an archeologist when I grew up. We lived in Rome, and so the evidence that such a job existed was all around me. One of my friends had her birthday party in the Forum.
I think being an American abroad may require a stiffer ethical spine these days. Standing up for who we really are has never been more important than under the Trump administration's callous disregard for the tenets of democracy: the rule of law, freedom of the press, a government by the people, facts.
Lesson One: always fly direct. If the caterers loading the meager eats onto the Delta airplane in Fort Lauderdale been a little more careful, the trip to JKF and our connecting flight to Holland might have been unremarkable. Instead, a flight attendant got hit hard on the head with a metal tray as we boarded.