About me…and Mom!

I love airports. Even TSA. Really. (Confession: Well, I did pay for “TSA Pre” and I get through the lines pretty fast, so maybe that assertion isn’t a fair one).

I like to watch the people coming and going: towing laptops behind the click-click of leather business shoes, wearing those puffy U-shaped travel pillows around their neck (I get it on the plane, but why do you wear that in the airport???), attired in everything from flannel pajama bottoms to those “I’m certain they just bought this at TravelSmith” coordinated travel outfits.

I confess; I don't like Frankfurt airport. It's too big, the Customs guys look at you askance and it simply feels cold.

I confess; I don’t like Frankfurt airport. It’s too big, the Customs guys look at you askance and it simply feels cold.

And the sounds! Accents that tickle my ears and languages I can’t piece out the meaning of. Airport announcements about leaving unattended bags. The sharp pierce of an espresso steam wand at the concourse Starbucks.

The 24-hour pre-flight deadline has me online, snagging my check-in credentials and sending them to my iPhone’s Passbook app (so handy!). And thinking about the fun to come in just one day.

That’s the kind of traveler I am. I hope that’s reflected in this travel blog.

This adventure finds Mom and I traveling from Los Angeles to Stockholm, cruising around the Baltic and flying back home again from Oslo. I think we’re up for it.

Mom certainly is. I won’t tell you how old she is (and you wouldn’t believe me anyway) but I will share that this lady out-walked, out-climbed and out-danced every other person on last year’s river cruise. She wakes up with a smile, smiles while she puts on her makeup, smiles while she sips the day’s first coffee and then happily starts whatever the day’s activities involve. Retired from heading up customer service for an international firm, Mom enjoys people, including all the prickly ones. Good thing for me; I can be a prickly one myself.

After Dad’s death, Mom lives in a HUGE retirement community (think 23,000+ people) in Southern California. It’s about a nine-hour drive from our home in rural Northern California but, thanks to FaceTime and cell phones, we’re pretty close.

My husband and I own a marketing firm so, yes, my “paid” job does involve writing. But these blogs are when I let my fingers fly along the keyboard for fun. I play ukulele, like to kayak on a nearby lake and am taking an online class about sketching ’cause I’d enjoy adding that to my never-mastered-yet-still-loved set of skills (just ask me about my “I’ve never made anything but flat things” knitting hobby).

Hubby is staying at home—again—for three weeks while I gallivant around the Baltic with Mom. I’ve prepped some meals in the freezer for him (‘hope he likes lots of spaghetti!) and promise to stay in touch via email and texting as the ship’s internet connection permits.

I’ve never imagined myself on an ocean cruise—I’m more of the backpacking kind—so I’m really wondering what this will be like. Will it be all curled pinky fingers over china teacups and frou-frou? Will I be looked down on if all I ever order is white wine? Will there be enough “space” for a little solitude on the Viking Star? And, most importantly, will I be brave enough to wear my (new) bathing suit in public and go swimming in the Star’s infinity pool?

Stay tuned and find out!

Mom and I in Passau.

Mom and I in Passau.

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