I mustache you a question

Early this morning I saw Sarah E. off to the airport, and now (hours later), Isaac and I are sitting on my bed, trying to remember what life was like before two months of summer visitors.

Things feel oddly out-of-place, but worth it.  As I've said before, you'll be able to read (in detail) about our adventures on Sarah's blog ... until then, I'm just going to list the highlights:

Buses through Denmark, trains to Germany, planes to the UK and Guernsey ... Charming English B&B, adorable Scandinavian-ish Hostel ... Many hours spent in local cafes, trying out local beers ... Entire days on foot, with backpacks and cameras in-tow (while we pretended we did not, in fact, look like tourists) ... Happy-aimless-unhurried sight-seeing ... Occasional afternoons getting lost ... Farmer's markets, hippie kiosks, artsy coffeehouses .... Beautiful accidents - like seeing Swedish band Sister Fae in concert ... Relaxing nights-in, wining and dining, Chuck and Sherlock ... Laying out in the sun, getting drenched by the rain (often within minutes of each other, sans warning) .... Making art, creating costume designs, learning crochet stitches, reading books, writing post-cards ...

Not to mention our Number 1 Goal: Getting Over Our Fear of Cameras.  Having acquired a life-time's worth of photographs in which it is quite obvious we have no clue how to pose for a camera, Sarah and I decided that it was finally time to deal with said issue.  So we took a self-portrait a day (sometimes more), and it seemed to work like a charm.  (And yes, we're even counting the nearly-headless-shots as successful ventures in camera-land.)

In fact, if you read to the end of this post, you'll get to see The Infamous Faux-Mustache Shot.

On the whole, a beautiful month - notwithstanding Gatwick airport (misery on earth), the sesame street 'menomena' (sp?) 'song' that was stuck in our heads for an entire month, the middle-eastern man on the train who kept offering us candy, the Danish man in central station who offered other 'services,' the man-of-questionable-ethnicity who followed us to our hostel and waited outside our window, the Guernsey chap who lied to us about the bus schedule so we'd consider getting a taxi with him - oh, and my personal favorite, the German man wearing a chicken suit who asked if he could carry us across the street (?).  Who would've thought the nicest guy we'd meet while traveling would be the pot-smoking Frenchman?  Go figure.

(Speaking of, Sarah, you managed to escape through security just before Creepy Experience Number 6: the one in which a guy from Portugal followed me through all the terminals and down to track 2, wherein he whispered in my ear, "Are you afraid?"  This really happened.  Details to come.)

So there you have it.  The one in which Sarah and Lauren Go To Europe is officially over, making the next thing on our childhood list of 'Things To Do, Eventually' ... ah, right.  Moving onto a cat farm.  The original plan was to refurbish an old barn and take in goats and chickens and things, but then my parents went through their 'farmer' stage and I decided I never wanted goats or chickens again.  So we settled on cats.

As promised:

(We've been told that Sarah looks like Hitler, and I look exactly like my dad.
Now please scroll back up and re-view the other mustache-less photos of us
before exiting my blog - we rather prefer to be remembered without them.  Thank you.)


  1. Love the photos!

    You've piqued my curiosity with the mention of your parents farming stage. I must know what changed your mind about the goats and chickens. My dad had hunting dogs whose care fell to me. They were messy. As much as I loved them, and raising the puppies was great, I have no desire to raise (or clean up after) that many dogs again. Wondering if you had a similar experience.

  2. i see the resemblances....in the mustached lady picture. oh boy.

    that episode with the portugal dude sounds so creepy! yikes! :O

  3. Sarah, you sure have The Eyebrow.


( hippies always welcome )