This post is part of an ongoing series called 66 Fridays, which explores the wonders of old Route 66. Click on the preceding “66 Fridays” link to view all posts in the series, or visit the initial overview post here. If you’re going to start Route 66 in Chicago, start your trip right with a… More
The air has gone from crisp to cold. The leaves are thinning on the trees. And apparently half the vegetables in Washington are currently in our root cellar. I think that means it’s November. We’ve already dipped into the pumpkins for tomorrow’s festivities—and if you find yourself in the States at the moment, here’s wishing… More
Well, the pastel picnic tables clashed spectacularly with my lunch this day, but they proved to be the perfect example of why a table setting should include a paintbrush for the first course.
Like the town of Solvang in California, there’s a Scandinavian town in my neck of the woods, too. Except in contrast to Solvang, I love Poulsbo. Even though it’s a bit of a tourist trap, Poulsbo feels more humble, more down-home, more real. Its Norwegian roots run deep—I have even heard Norwegian spoken on the… More
Today the Tailor and I had the chance to go to a Mariners game with friends, and spend the afternoon in the cushy comfort of one of the box suites. In terms of watching the game, it was the best seat in the house. We were in the front row of the box, with a… More
We have a tradition of spending the Fourth with some friends who live down the street from us. We bring the old-fashioned hand-crank ice cream crock and the croquet set—they fire up the grill. The best part, though, is watching the fireworks over the bay. To everybody reading in the United States, have a happy… More
This is the fifth installment of my Mission Mondays series, exploring all 21 Spanish Missions along the California coast. You can read more about this series, and see a sketch map of all the missions, at this post. Last week we visited one of the more unassuming missions in the chain. Just over in the… More
This was the day I got to play Scrabble with a master. Good thing I was more absorbed in sketching than winning—because even if I didn’t have a sad collection of letters all game, I never would have stood a chance against these guys. Triple Word Score isn’t worth much when you just have a… More
You already know that if I’m riding shotgun, I’ll end up doodling while the scenery rolls by. And my travel companions know that if they take a road trip with me, they’ll end up in the sketchbook eventually.
In my travels over the years, I’ve stumbled upon (and sketched) a lot of games and sporting events in public places. Pick-up hockey games in Minnesota. Bocce tournaments in Italy. Hula hoop contests in New York. Surfing in California. Boat races in Seattle. Ice skaters in Boston. Golf in Nova Scotia. Even a game of… More