It’s Sunday afternoon. For about a year now, most Sunday afternoons when Mike and I are in the same country we open a bottle of wine, lay out some cheese and crackers and other nibblies, and tune the radio to listen to This American Life.
National Public Radio’s This American Life is a show full of stories on that week’s theme. Sometimes one story. Sometimes a dozen. Sometimes they’re funny. Sometimes sad.
Rarely boring.
We enjoy the shape of wineglasses in our hands (who doesn’t love that feeling even when they’re not filled with wine??), eat things in small bites, and listen to the radio and the hush of a weekend winding down. It’s been one of my favorite routines that we’ve snatch out of the spaces between PNG and England, Malawi, Sudan, Indonesia and Cambodia. It’s spelled home and Los Angeles.
I wonder if we’ll do it, or something similar, in Laos.
For you see, in two months we are moving. To Luang Prabang, in Laos.
It’s a long story, and we’re right in the thick of it in ways that makes me alternately excited, overwhelmed, happy, sad, and reflective. Though there’s not much space for reflective – at least the type of reflective that I most enjoy – because, well, there are cars to be sold, work to be wrapped up well, and many many tasks to to be completed.
We’re doing a (mostly) good job of staying sane amidst it all as we launch out into this adventure, and there’s more to tell, but not now.
Because Sunday is designated “no tasks” day and writing about this for too much longer will risk granting me a mental advance on tomorrow’s craziness. Besides, This American Life is about to come on and I want to listen to it while I still have an “American Life” on this side of the Pacific to enjoy.
So in the meantime, new Lisa&Mike note up (Looking for poppies) and new essay about dark shadows in marital mirrors coming soon.
thanks for stopping by,
lisa
