I’ve been in mourning. Mourning the loss of my freedom. Wishing to have more without giving anything up. I made a list of all the things that make be cry when I think about leaving my business of free-lance writing and consulting: long commutes, walking in my yard anytime I want, my office, lunch with Loved-One, fluidity…
I know, I know. In these economic times, I should be happy that I have this opportunity. Especially, since I was minding my own business and two, yes, two firms contacted me. I’m really am sooo lucky.
“Last year, we sent sheets to Cuba. My wife’s grandmother had surgery, and the hospital had no sheets.” Rainier Andres (Ray) is an American citizen who came to these United States with his mother. He has no brothers or sisters and his father is still in Cuba. Ray reminds me of a documentary I saw last Fourth of July: “Citizen U.S.A.: A 50 State Road Trip,” by Alexandra Pelosi. These new citizens brought tears to my eyes.
Ray was a teenager when he came to America, he was too naïve, or perhaps too filled with machismo to understand the dangers. Ray considered
An overnight at the Chicago Field Museum. What could be more fun for kids than exploring through Egyptian tombs, holding tarantulas, and wandering amongst the dinosaurs? Well, doing all that and more in the dark, and way, way past bedtime; that’s what.
Arrive early, and pick out a place to set up camp. We bring sleeping bags and an air mattress for the old bones; ours that is, and just the sleeping bags for Bradaigh, 8 and Emma, 7. There are tons of families vying for space under the mastadon and saber tooth tiger. We opt for a spot under some African ceremonial masks. It’s out of the popular traffic pattern. We set up camp, grab our flashlights and get going.
G-Dad and I notice right away something unanticipated.