Thoughts From a Travel-Weary Blogger

What can be said for cross-continental travel? There is no easy way to do it. Not even in this age of jet travel can we pretend it is convenient.

“It’s an adventure” is the euphemism often employed to browbeat me into succumbing to the hurry-up-and-wait, cattle-car ambience of airports. Not even my favorite airline can crack enough jokes to make all the frustration disappear.

So, after another week back in Columbus, Ohio, where I’ve been attending to the affairs of the last member of my family’s preceding generation, I’ve propped my eyelids open long enough to slip in the driveway of our own home at what felt strangely like five in the morning.

And no surprise. Somewhere—like back in the time zone I just left—it was five in the morning.

Ah, Columbus. You’ve given me decades worth of family memories for Christmases, Easters, and summer vacations. But no more. Yet, I can’t even say I’ll miss you—despite the sweet, gently falling snow every morning this past week. I’ve grown into a California gal, now.

It isn’t an easy transition, moving from tender-of-the-older-generation to being the older generation in the family. Hopefully, this oncoming generation will step up to the call with as much grace, can-do spirit and aplomb as the one we’ve just bid adieu.

And for those moments we simply can’t live up to the call? Well…there’s always ice cream. Even in the middle of December.

Photograph, above: Stopped in at my favorite ice cream parlor—Graeters—today before leaving Ohio and found this charming display. It's from the current Graeters ad campaign, but they have my vote for converting these prints into posters to sell to their customers.