Learning travel was possible came slowly to me. Back and forth trips by car in Louisiana to visit uncles were the beginning. Finding various parents who would take teenagers to Panama City for a beach moment was the next venture. I was a sophomore in high school when we took our first vacation. Daddy had a sabbatical, and we drove from one A & M college to the next all the way to Montana and back. Giddy may be too tame a word for my feeling of seeing places I had read about and landscapes that in no way resembled swamp land.
A summer job in New Mexico ( my first airplane ride), church mission trips, ( a passport in my name) and school excursions with 8th graders (not the best appeasement of a longing) provided young adult opportunities. In marriage, most going was instigated by me. Forty years down the pike, I was able to talk David into cruises. He didn’t have to pack and unpack each day, could choose to stay on a boat and call the plant or sort papers if he wished, and hamburgers were available for lunch.
DRUM ROLL! All adult children were present the fall of 2018 when a National Geographic brochure arrived offering a tour to Norway and an Arctic island to see polar bears. The offer went out. “I’ll arrange if you’ll buy in.” Preparation has closed in now to packing a suitcase and planning embarking Sunday, June 23. Enough is unknown to make a true adventure. We have gathered winter wear, yet how cold is really cold. Will polar bears wait to be spotted or will they lumber away to Russia before we arrive? Stay tuned. Next transmission: Oslo.
The breath of God produces ice and the broad waters become frozen. Job 37:10
Let Me Tell Ya 