writer, warrior, whack-a-doodle

Category: Totally Random

Hayverst

It's only July and yet it's harvest time. Am I the only one fascinated with the neat round hay bales? I'm always shooting them. As soon as I get home, I download the memory card, excited and believing that I've finally found a way to make them look interesting on camera. Sadly, those hopes are […]

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Attention aux Hérissons!

While snacking on Chiendent, sometimes Loki and Juno will make a new friend they finding hiding in it. Like this fella: Harry Hérisson. Juno found Harry and I quickly called her off. She and Loki politely obeyed and left little Harry alone. Les Hérisson (hedgehogs) are common in Switzerland. I don't know much about the hedgehog so I […]

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Stuck in the '80's

"Nice Tuff-Skins little fella," snorts Juno.

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Holy Cow

So here I was, Thursday afternoon, Ascension Day, where everyone is off in Switzerland, riding my bike through Bière on my way to Rolle, when I noticed a large field of cows wearing unusually large bells and making a large racket. Naturally, I stopped.  It looked a lot like The Fête Desalps, a celebration that happens […]

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Who is Savadear?

"Who is this Savadear I keep hearing about?" Two years ago, Mr Wild Dingo whispered that very question, which had been burning in his mind for too long, to a Francophone at work. Bemused, the Francophone laughed. "Not 'Savadear,'  'Ça veut dire,'" he replied.  The expression literally translates as "it wants to say" but actually means "it means."

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Raining on His Parade

This is Switzerland's Supermoon. Seriously. We had no opportunity to see it. But we made do.

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Just a Hop, Skip and a Jump

Can you believe I have to take a 40-minute plane ride just to get a decent pizza? At least the view never gets old.

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It Never Gets Easy

I just spent 7 days with the man in Provence. And now he heads to China tonight. Business travel sucks.

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Eye Candy

When we travel, Mr. Wild Dingo focuses on history and ancient sites. I focus on landscape, culture, city vibe, pretty things and cuisine. So other than my gluttonous indulgence in Italian cuisine, I had only one other mission going to Venice: glass. And lots of it.

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Raw Love

 

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