18 October 2012


I lost the pendant I bought in February in Paris.

I was subconsciously aware during our dinner that the chain was caught in the scarf I was wearing, but it didn't really register. It wasn't until the scarf got twisted on my neck and I tried to adjust it that I realizeed the pendant top was gone. By then we were halfway home from the restaurant, walking on a dimly-lit street.

We looked around, on the sidewalk and in the grass surrounding it. A young couple pushing a stroller and a gentlemna with a dog stopped and helped us look. I walked back to the restaurant, looking down as I took every step, and even went inside to look and ask. No luck.

I have often thought about where lost things go. I wonder if there is a space in the universe where lost things congregate and share the stories of how they ended up there. Do they know that they're missed? Are they lost if we don't know that we've lost them?

I hope someone finds my pendant top, and cares enough to wear it or give it to someone who might enjoy it. Then it isn't really lost; it may be lost to me, but not to the world.

When we decided it was time to stop looking, the young mom who helped us look said, "Well, you just have to go back to Paris." If only it was so easy.

Paris is no longer a two-hour train ride away.

12 October 2012

01 October 2012


September zipped by while we were too busy unpacking and trying to settle. I don't even know what happend to July and August -- I don't think they existed for us this year.

We are, in any case, in our new home. Our own home, surrounded by our own furniture, our art, our books. We have new routines, new friends, new issues to tackle, new advendures to make.

Here are some of the things I am excited about:

1. My desk faces the window (for the first time ever!), and the view of the trees outside is just what I need. Writing now is more meditative than it has ever been.

2. Lots and lots of great Asian food. And I don't mean just the restaurants (although there are plenty). My next door neighbor is Korean, and he just brought over the first batch of the kimchi he made the other week. I had a big spoonful, not even with rice but just plain kimchi alone, and it was mmm, mmm, MMMMM. The only sad thing was that I didn't have any beer to go with it.

3. We have family, relatives, and old friends to look up. We've lived the nomads' lifestyle for several years, and while we met many interesting people and made many good friends, it is always a treat to reconnect with people with whom we share the earlier chapters of our history. I feel home now, rooted and comforted.

The morning air is chilly these days, and the leaves are starting to change colors. We've already gone apple picking, and are looking forward to visiting pumpkin patches and having freshly made apple cider. We'll do the hay rides and corn mazes, too.

This is where we are, this is our life, here and now.

What a lucky bunch of scarecrows we are.