On a crisp Fall day with clear, azure skies it’s hard to take a bad photo – but I’m having no luck. It’s “Blue on Blue.” My subject seems to blend right into the sky and nearly disappear – except for the white icing and sparkly bits.
“The only thing I know about Slovakia is what I learned first-hand from your foreign minister, who came to Texas.” —Then governor George W. Bush replying to a Slovak journalist. Actually, Bush met the Prime Minister of Slovenia, not Slovakia.
You should’ve heard the conversation. We were strolling through the fantastic open-air City Market in lovely Ljubljana, admiring the rows of fresh produce, local honey, and the straight-from-the greenhouse mums.
I’ve always been a four-seasons-kinda girl. I’m not talking about hotels or restaurants, but rather the changing of the seasons. And I love each and every one of them for entirely different reasons. So when we landed in lovely Ljubljana, my heart soared. It was Fall.
Fancy yourself an orthographer? Try spelling the name of the capital of Slovenia: Ljubljana. Like Reykjavik and Yogyakarta, it’s charming to visit, but impossible to spell.
“And the wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes.” ― Maurice Sendak, Where the Wild Things Are
Whether by design or default, our homes reflect a good deal about our personalities. But what does a 6-story house covered with rhinos, elephants, frogs, catfish, lizards, stags, mermaids, and a snake hanging down like a scaly drain pipe say about the owner?
“Caviar? Caviar? Gude deescount price. Luke! Luke!” This is the sound you’ll hear if you ping the tourist radar just inside the door of the Besarabsky Market in central Kyiv.