Saturday, March 2, 2013

My Blog

Do any of you remember "Show & Tell" from your kindergarten days?  If so, you know how exciting it was to bring something special to school, something you loved, and get up in front of the class and talk about it.

We all love stories: we love to tell them, and we love to listen to them.

And of all those stories, none can be more important than the stories of our lives. 

Why? 
I think it's because we all want people to know us, especially our future generations.  We want them to know what our lives were like, what out values were, what was important to us.  Most of all, we want others to remember us, to know who we were and what we stood for.   

Preserving our stories actually gives us a sort of immortality.  In fact, there's an ancient African saying that goes, “We live on as long as someone remembers our story.”

So, as a personal historian and member of the Association of Personal Historians,  I have been hosting "Show & Tell" programs in various Omaha facilities, including retirement communities, nursing homes, church groups, libraries, and other organizations.  

These events have been met with great enthusiasm, which proves to me how much people love to share what's important to them.  The programs also connect us to one another by showing our commonalities.   

So plan to attend one soon!  They are free, fun, and open to the public.  I will post my upcoming program schedule on this site, so please check it often.  And if you don't have anything to bring, just come and listen!



I have recently returned from a 16-day tour of Spain, Portugal and Morocco.  Each country was unique, and each was fascinating, for different reasons.

Portugal was our first destination, and nestled alongside the Atlantic Ocean, it was beautiful.  A small country, it was serene and peaceful, with beckoning winding streets that held great promise of undiscovered treasures.  Unfortunately, we were only there for a couple of days, but it was a wonderful beginning to our tour.

Next we traveled to Sevilla, Spain, where we saw an amazing flamenco show and I rediscovered the wonder of sangria, which we drank in great quantities!  From there, we crossed the Strait of Gibraltar by ferry into Morocco, Africa, and for the next six days, explored Rabat, Casablanca, Marrakech, Fez, and Tangier.  Morocco was fascinating, difficult, luxurious and poverty-stricken (within the same city and often within the same city block), and at times scary...but most of all, impossible to describe.  Each city was different than the others, each held its own charm, repulsion, mystery, or fascination.  I can only say I am glad I saw it, am grateful to have experienced it, but I would never want to go again. Having survived it, however, (in spite of being in constant fear of eating or drinking unsafe food or water, which you had to be even in the nicer hotels we stayed at, and also realizing that flushing toilets are not essential as long as one can still squat over a hole in a sloping floor, with a bucket of water nearby to pour down the hole), we recrossed the Strait of Gibraltar on our way back to Spain, taking time first to play with the all the monkeys that came out to greet us.  They were friendly and inquisitive, jumping onto our shoulders from nearby trees, and posing for pictures with our group.  We were told, however, to hang tightly onto any shopping bags or purses we were carrying, as they would grab and run away with anything that might contain a treat. When we could finally tear ourselves away from such delightful playmates, we traveled on to the beautiful resort of Costa Del Sol in Spain, alongside the Mediterranean Sea, where we had a very welcome day of leisure at the beach.

From there, it was on to Granada, then Toledo, and finally Madrid, where our tour ended.  All in all, it was an amazing trip, and one I am reliving as I write these words.

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