The Art of Living Lost: Ask and You Shall be Heard
The Art of Living Lost: Find Your Line
A few weeks ago, as I was pulling out of the kiddy drop-off line, I had this intense urge to slam my foot on the gas and speed down the strait that led from my kid’s high school to our home. As my heart raced, I lifted my foot from the gas and the words “Lime Rock” popped into my head. Giddy for a moment, my next adventure started to unfold.
The Art of Living Lost: Livin la Vida Loca
The Art of Living Lost: Hey Big Boy!
Last week as I was preparing for brunch with friends, I found myself in the local liquor store. As I wandered the aisles lined with wines from around the world, I smiled, remembering the times I’d spent exploring Germany, Italy, and France. While my fingers skimmed the Cupcake and Mommy’s Time Out labels, I felt the exhaustion of parenthood wash over me and was silently grateful to be beyond the diapering phase of my life. It was with this relieved and rested spirit that I raced to find the vodka, but alas, the liquor store wasn’t done with me.
Perched very high-up on a shelf with other surprisingly orphaned bottles of booze, was the largest bottle of champagne I’d ever seen. More astonishing than the size was the brand VEUVE CLICQUOT, or translated from French to English, “Widow Clicquot.” With sweet heart I remembered how Chris and I fell in love with the champagne’s history on a cruise many years ago. Upon hearing the brand’s translation, we devilishly contemplated the details surrounding François Clicquot’s death. We marveled at how the Madam could rise to such prominence in an era where women were not permitted to open a personal bank account.
While I gazed at the bottle, I remembered every-single-popped-cork. Toasting new homes, promotions, and the birth of our children, a bottle of Veuve Clicquot was an iconic character in every adventure I enjoyed with Chris. Inspired, I purchased that exact bottle of Veuve Clicquot, and in the spirit of charity, I auctioned it off at a fundraiser called the Great Pumpkin Ball, with proceeds benefiting a cause very dear to my heart — Good Grief.
The Art of Living Lost: We’ll Meet in the Middle!
As I’ve previously written, I had reason to visit the Azores, a small archipelago of nine islands in the Northern Atlantic Ocean. [Read more…]