 |
In 2000, we were beginning our second summer in Santa Rosa. We’d not really gardened the first summer (we had a pool – we swam a lot). This summer, though, we began to garden in earnest, renting the big rototiller, having soil amendment brought in by the truckload, and … growing things. Santa Rosa was truly home: we stayed in that house for close on 4 years, and only moved out because the landlord was an idiot and divorced his wife, so had to move back in (the jerk). Just when we’d gotten the soil right, too!
 |
 |
In 2003, we were still living in the same house, in Santa Rosa, and I was getting ready to graduate from USF with my first Master’s degree. USF was a truly fabulous school. I’m glad to hear that they’re incorporating their “professional studies” back into the business school, rather than having it as its own college: it being “professional studies” meant that I couldn’t get into a PhD program, so had to go after a second master’s degree, one which was “academic” rather than “professional.” A word of warning to anybody out there who thinks they can do a degree in the evenings, or online, or what have you: that degree may be a stopping point in your education, because “academia” doesn’t see those kinds of degrees as being proper degrees. They’re just learning a skill. They may as well be tradesmen certifications.
 |
 |
Ahh, 2008. We’d been away for 9 months, and were very eager to get back to California (we’d forgotten the heat). We saved £50 on our tickets by flying through Minneapolis. It wasn’t worth it, as we had to wait an extra three or four hours because of the rain in Minneapolis (they won’t let anybody out onto the runway if there’s been a lightning strike within the past half-hour … and we saw several huge strikes). A couple we talked to (waiting at the same gate) were off to a Neurology conference. Their luggage was abandoned upon the tarmacadam, just outside of the paltry shelter offered by the jet’s wing. They were wearing very casual clothes for their travel, and doubted that they’d be able to do any better, as their luggage was not waterproof. Gotta love mass transportation.
 |
 |
 |
 |
And, again, more pictures from the Dolomites, from 2009. We stopped on the way down the mountain (oh, the mountain) to take a few pictures of the local graveyard. There were some marvelous headstones (yes, we’re strange like that). We spent the day in Bolzano, just wandering around, enjoying the place. I think we may have gone to coffee there, and been confounded by the idea of putting a credit card into the garage exit-machine. We don’t drive, in Glasgow, and … well, let’s just say that Europe is mad for automatic things. In California? Well, they’d have an attendant. In Bolzano, you just put your card into the little pillar and it charges you. No need for a person to sit around, and all that’s required is that you understand the system.
So many of our travel experiences have been about learning the way that locals do things. I wonder: what do people find strange and intimidating about the USA? So many of the things that we’re accustomed to seem to change from country to country, I wonder what it’s like for others. Do they understand the “exit” sign, rather than seeing the “little green man” everywhere? Are they confused at having to actually interact with a person to get out of a parking garage?
-D