I’ve been to Santiago de Compostela in Spain six times, beginning in 2008. In legend, the city was established in the 9th century AD as the burial place for the Apostle James. (He’s known in English as St James the Greater, and in Spanish as Santiago.) The city is the capital of the province of Galicia in northwestern Spain. It’s a World Heritage Site and the destination of the famous Camino de Santiago pilgrimage. Its big draw is the world-class cathedral. In 2008, when I f

It’s Santa Fe, New Mexico, at Easter. How can I refuse an invitation to walk the eight miles from the tiny village of Nambé to el Sanctuario de Chimayó? It’s the largest annual pilgrimage in America! Why would I miss that when I’m house sitting in Santa Fe at exactly the right time of year? There are many starting points for this famous religious trek to Chimayó. Some devotees reputedly start at the Mexico border; others set off from Albuquerque about 91 miles away; some begi

One day while house sitting on Whidbey Island, I notice the recycling boxes in my homeowners’ tidy garage are filling up. I’ll be conscientious, I decide. I google and find the address for Island Recycling. I load up my car and enter the info in my GPS. Little do I know that I’m in for another “unique place” experience. Little do I know I’ll go back to that place several times, just to take pictures. Really? Well, yes. I turn in at the driveway off Rt 525, north of Freeland,

I’m house sitting in a beautiful home in the town of Langley on Whidbey Island in Washington State, way up at the northwest tip of America where it’s only a giant’s step into Canada. A large, mature, independent cat named Meatball is my charge, plus a few plants. I like this home and this cat! Meatball goes in and out through the cat door, often spending long hours outside. He talks loudly, demandingly, when in need, but asleep, well, he’s all angel. We’re getting along well.

“We store ‘incompletes,’ things that we do not want to handle, and put [them] into the ‘back of our minds.’ They don’t go away, as we might hope. They surface, usually in unpredictable ways and timing, giving us the opportunity to face and complete what we have started.” —John-Roger, DSS Here’s Part 2 about my personal challenges in letting go of stuff. In Part 1, I wrote about my tears and indecision last summer while clearing out my storage un

Please note as of 2026, this book is no longer available. It has become the inspiration for Preparedness: Get Ready for Climate Chaos. When people ask me where I’m from, I feel apologetic that I don’t have a one-word answer. “Well,” I say, “I’m a nomad. I house sit for people who live in places that interest me.” You wouldn’t believe how many respond with some version of, “Wow! That sounds amazing! How does that work? How do you find places?” Or they ask right off the bat, “W

“Be wary of stuff. Be careful what you purchase, what you save, what you pack into plastic storage boxes. Stuff can hog-tie your life.” —Hallelujah Haymaker Note: This post was drafted in July 2017, but it felt too personal to share then. “You’re doing major emotional work,” said my friend NK, cracking an egg into the frying pan on the stove. I was staying in Southern California with her for a couple we

An Occasional Post on Art that Thrills Me Boredom is also the mother of invention. Back-in-the-day, we entertained ourselves in the evening—reading, conversing, playing, singing, writing, carving, sketching, knitting, learning, planning, studying, listening to and making music. Back-in-the-day, there was no screen with words and images created by others to seduce us into simply watching others conversing, playing, doing…. Back-in-the-day, our unspoken mottos were this: Out wi

I got to Gate 148 in the LAX International Terminal very early. The lounge was almost empty, thank goodness, for I wanted to sit close to the staffing desk. When the flight check-in people arrived, I hoped to be first in line to ask for an aisle seat. I had a ten-hour flight ahead and I’m an up-and-down-every-hour type of passenger. I sat two chairs away from the only other person in that lounge, a nicely dressed Indian woman, who was doing hand-stitch work on a white fabric.

For years, I shied away from traveling in France: I don’t speak French, the people are reputed to be snooty….and even though I loved my time last year in Paris, I’ve been cautious about that country. Then for a couple weeks recently, Beebe Bahrami’s Café Oc: A Nomad’s Tales of Magic, Mystery and Finding Home in the Dordogne of Southwestern France was my just-before-sleep book choice, and—I don’t know whether to say ‘regretfully’ or not—it kept me awake far more often than I a