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  • Writer's pictureJames Eric Fristad

We've gotten to two, too

Updated: Jul 2

Months until, that is. I remember when the counter seemed unlikely ever to plummet below 380 days. Then it was (only?) a year, at which time the months began their reluctant passage. And now the number down at the bottom of yon footer registers 60. Days to use wisely, to be good stewards of, in which to strive to filter out the distracting chaff so that our emotional insides don't get gummed up. So to speak.


Things vying for exclusive hours of our attention: meal planning with doable recipes, for instance - deciding on things likely to taste wonderful made from ingredients in packaging whose description and instructions we only NEARLY understand. (Keep it simple, fella!) Choice of clothing, from socks and undies to sweaters and parkas. Weight, variety, colors. All of which needs to fit into a finite suitcase and come out looking sensational. This matter too often gets relegated to last-minute status, with negative outcome - mainly in respect to my agitated tummy. And then language study needs to continue day by day. I somehow find fragments of French vocabulary wafting into memory, remarkable considering how long ago studied. The Italian sauce pan continues to be on my front burner, stirred courtesy of Pimsleur and Rosetta Stone. Neither of which delivers with the ease promised. Then what about practicing with camera equippage (Sony a6000 and GoPro Hero10). Usually that discipline gets squeezed out, because it all seems so intuitive. Like riding a bicycle, right? Except no, this velocipede has a bunch of obscure little features that can turn a typical ride into an extraordinary happening. If this is likely our final visit to these memorable locales, why not ensure that our visual keepsakes are optimal? [I will need reminders, if you'd be so kind, towards this pastime.]

Mine is a little bigger than Michele's here.

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