This week with Passports & Postcards

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I wouldn’t be where I am today without Woody. That’s easy for me to say. For example, would YOU ever, in your wildest imagination, ever, buy a 1985 VW van, with a suspect history, and drive it across the country?

Neither would I. But, because of Woody, I am doing it. And it is MY dream, being fulfilled because I have a partner in this wacky notion.

Wacky Dresser

Wacky Dresser

A couple of weeks ago I was offered up a “Love Your Spouse Challenge” on Facebook, and I had every intention of participating, but got (too easily) distracted on other stuff.  I had spent just enough time thinking about it, to realize… man, I sure love my spouse. And, though the “challenge” to love him can be a big pain in the “A” sometimes, overall, things are pretty brilliant.

The funny thing is, I don’t think he would have done this either – buy the van and all – if it wasn’t for me. We lean on each other that way.

Because of Woody, I am indirectly related to his cousin Jodi, who just happened to be sailing in our neck of the woods last week. We had the wonderful opportunity to enjoy happy hour on their 50 foot sailing vessel, the Country Dancer, in Lake Michigan. 10399032_1099042163370_6751452_n

Seems as though the willingness to break conventions may run in the family. Jodi, Gary, and their pooch Rio,

Rio is a Schipperke, a good boating breed

Rio is a Schipperke, a good breed for a boating lifestyle

“sold everything” to sail the seas. They’ve been at it since April, 2013, and the stories they have to share. . . well, let’s just say Ishmael’s tales on the Pequod come close. If you have any chance at all, check them out here:

Coming to shore from the Country Dancer

Coming to shore from the Country Dancer

And, because of Woody. . . I am a bit of a baseball fan. At least I know the rules and can follow along well. We spent one of the fairest days of them all, at one of the most classic ball parks of them all, Wrigley Field.

Scores are not kept digitally here...

Scores are not kept digitally here…

We took the train in. I just love landing at Union Station; as you approach, the train slows way down, and my anticipation goes way up. Soon the city closes in around you, and you feel a bit of a voyeur, looking into the backsides of high density housing. Once landed, you feel the energy of bustling crowds, you tell yourself to walk as though you’ve done this before, and as you enter through the main station, I cannot help but hesitate, every time, it’s as though I’ve stepped back in time.

Union Station

Union Station

The architecture is magnificent, announcements echo & reverberate, sounds of different languages, the looks on fatigued travelers. . . I love all of it. Then we hopped on the famous L, and landed at Wrigley Field. Everything is buzzing around: cars, cops, construction workers, rental bikes, honking horns, people, security checks,

P1030350but once in our seats, all settles down. We’re on the Cubs side, just off-center of home plate. Humm Baby, it was a good spot.

I thought it was a great game, but learned most thought it rather dull. My standard for a good game is one that moves along, you know, three hours. If the Giants had to loose, I’m glad it was to the Cubs. Either outcome, I was not losing – it was one of my perfect days.

About Hali

Just a travel junkie trying to find my voice in the blogosphere. I enjoy sharing my photography and fast facts I learn in the places I travel through.

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