where would you recover?

Remember that gnarly throat picture of last post?  Even though that picture was from last year, I’m that kind of sick again.  Can’t quite kick the cough.  Kelly, who was sick for our entire Turkey trip is still battling her cough as well back in Fort Worth, and this has caused me to contemplate where I might like to be nursing my cold right now.  I’ve come up with my ideals: 1. On the green couch at my parent’s house.  Tivoed Survivor episodes and chips and dip lulling me into a couch coma.  Dad coming in the house with grocery…

loneliness, an unavoidable peace corps companion

I’m still sorting through pictures and thoughts about Turkey.  That post will come soon enough.  However, upon landing in my cottage a couple of days ago, my thoughts have moved quickly off of what feels like a dream of water-pipes, Ikea, cheesy bread, and Turkish hipsters. I’m home in Armenia, and after arriving here on Sunday, the first days of the week found me hosting Danelle, a new volunteer who arrived this summer and now works at a kindergarten and at a children’s NGO in a small town by the Georgian border.   We spent some time comparing our experiences which…

my texan mother in armenia

Most of the past week I think I’ll save for my novel/memoir/perpetually-put-off-piece-of-literature.  That is both a artistic decision, and a way of avoiding the impossibility of putting into words this past week with me, Mom, and Armenia. But, despite the length, consider this a taste. I saw her at first down the hallway, behind the glass partition, my mother looking much skinnier, a little lost, and washed over with anticipation.  She saw me jumping up above the crowd, waving one arm and holding a bouquet of flowers in the other, this little collection of green, white and lavender, a message…

she lives

Before I get to business, look what I got for my birthday: Yes, I do indeed consider those bright, little weeds early summer’s gift to me, but really though, check out my feet in new Chacos!  Mom and Dad, you are wonderful to me! Now, the business.  If you read my last post, you have probably sat biting your nails, probably tossed and turned all night, wondering, hoping against hope that the wicked warlock/me has not thrown the poor defenseless Spring Chicken to the bottom of the town ravine. Well, as many of my friend’s predicted, the sun came out,…