Recently, by some stroke of scheduling luck/karma/voodo/miracle, the kiddo and I joined Ben for a work trip, first to Paris and then to London. While life here along the equator is pretty great, the difficulties of a developing country can wear on you after awhile so this last minute vacation came at a much needed time. Full disclosure: at this point in the conversation I had intended to describe said difficulties with my quintessential witty prose (indulge me), but no matter what I wrote, it rather sounded like I was whining. Then I happened to listen to a recent 60 Minutes segment on Middle Eastern and North African migrants risking their lives for a chance to survive in Europe and it solidified my suspicions: I was whining. I’m not sure if I’ll every fully grasp how lucky I am to be an American, but that segment sure did nudge me in that direction. Not that the U.S. is without its faults, but at the end of the day we are so. damn. lucky.
So with a new reminder of the fortunate place I landed when my mama brought me into this world, not to mention a nagging feeling that the more I talk about my luck the faster I’ll jinx myself, I give you pics from Paris and London.