my notes from the field...

photos/banter about the people/places I come across during this nomadic life.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

parched.

Posted by Brad at 3:27 PM
Email ThisBlogThis!Share to XShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest

1 comment:

Tenshi Rising said...

I love this word...I use it often. : )

November 21, 2010 at 1:36 AM

Post a Comment

Newer Post Older Post Home
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Blog Archive

  • ►  2013 (7)
    • ►  January (7)
  • ►  2012 (46)
    • ►  December (7)
    • ►  November (1)
    • ►  October (4)
    • ►  September (6)
    • ►  August (6)
    • ►  July (5)
    • ►  June (10)
    • ►  May (5)
    • ►  April (2)
  • ►  2011 (40)
    • ►  May (7)
    • ►  April (8)
    • ►  March (7)
    • ►  February (6)
    • ►  January (12)
  • ▼  2010 (80)
    • ►  December (5)
    • ►  November (9)
    • ►  October (11)
    • ►  September (10)
    • ►  August (8)
    • ►  July (6)
    • ►  June (5)
    • ►  May (6)
    • ►  March (8)
    • ▼  February (4)
      • parched.
      • Double Eagle.
      • volver: to return.
      • upper 80s. barefoot. and a 100% chance of procrast...
    • ►  January (8)
  • ►  2009 (14)
    • ►  December (9)
    • ►  November (4)
    • ►  October (1)

Search This Blog

Popular Posts

  • A visit to Lake Issyk Kul
    A watermelon chills in the icy waters on a hot day. Soon after arriving in Central Asia I realized that Kyrgyz people base their entire s...
  • Photo Essay: Cooking school in Provence
     Salade Niçoise. A bed of leafy greens, some other colorful vegetables and a fat slab of tuna on top. Don't let the size scare you,...
  • HONEY, I SHRUNK THE TUGBOAT!
    Inside Eric's workshop I stood staring at the beautiful eight foot long custom built tug boat he just finished building with a single t...
  • that's a wrap
    Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower. But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. ...
  • Finding a way to move the feast
    I can remember feeling very depressed and alone the day after arriving in southern Mexico. I was in the town of San Cristobal without a clue...
  • PHOTO ESSAY: lost in the mix
    I'm being reminded how " blogs are tossed into the electronic ether like rolled-up notes floating in virtual bottles" while  ...
  • The Legend of Lepeshka
    I causally slow my stride and wait for Zahril’s head to rise from his dome-shaped oven which seems to be loosely fashioned after the Panthe...
  • When a great soul is silenced
    Scott Roy blazing a trail during Ironman CDA 2011 A great man was silenced last night. I had a prof who used to ask her class "wh...
  • Tour de France... without the bike.
    The other day loud, long honks of annoyance could be heard across the french countryside as my mother and I made our way towards the coast i...
  • Food for Thought – Andouille de Vire
    This “delightful” pork sausage comes from the northeast corner of France, in a town called Vire. The word Andouille in French is a term used...
Travel theme. Theme images by ranplett. Powered by Blogger.