Passports

Moby only has eyes for Da Bird.



You can't see it, because it's beneath him.



Sometimes a cat just needs a good hug.


This week, we go to apply for passports. To go to Canada. This bothers me much more than it should. But, what must be done must be done, and some fights are sure-losers. Too many people, too much confusion, too much information with too little meaning. Getting my shorts in a knot about it is rearranging the proverbial deck chairs on the Titanic. (How comfortable would proverbial chairs be, and how much would they go for on Antiques Roadshow?) Found we had all the necessary paperwork, so we can do the legwork on Wednesday.

D is enjoying plotting our vacation, we hash out possibilities, he looks up what is possible, prices, schedules. We know what we like to do, just need to figure out where to go and how to get there. (Wet, cool, seacoast, small towns, artsy places, by train or boat with little or no driving or flying.) The driving is the limiting factor, as D doesn't drive at all, especially not the standard shift on our current car, and I can only tolerate a few hours of driving on any given day. Neither of us likes flying, but a couple hours of that beats me trying to drive two days.

We both got a little envious that brother and SIL to be are going to Scotland and Ireland for their honeymoon. We'd like to go too. Not with them, mind, just, well, we always thought we would. I'd always wanted to see Istanbul, an idea that has tarnished as the world has become more threatening, and resources dwindle. So we console ourselves with closer corners, and we enjoy traveling together - which makes it all the better.

The tax refund from this year went into an account, saved for one of very few vacations together. There was the trip to Astoria, and the one year we visited friends in San Diego. Otherwise, a couple days in Lava Hot Springs, or an overnight away, three days or less every time. I should count the the train trip to move to Boston, however purposeful, it was also restorative. Not counting the initial, six month, sojourn to Colorado Springs and Saudi Arabia at the behest of the US Government (Never using that travel agent again.) Not much for nineteen years, but we make do.

Knowing Moby will be well cared for makes this all possible.