A long time ago, in a magical place called Montana, I found myself standing on a back road next to, according to the sign, the second largest head of Abraham Lincoln in the world. It's the modesty that stuck with me, this wasn't the largest, no, it was the second largest, and just in case you weren't sufficiently impressed, it was painted gold. Lincoln's head, painted gold, some where between 8-15 feet tall, I don't remember, at the side of the road in Montana. Hallelujah, I do loves me some roadside attractions, even if they are of the second largest nature.

As last year's holiday season sputtered out and the relatives left our house, I exhaled, then smiled. I'd really enjoyed all the feasting and fun, from the morning moment the kids' cousins started frolicking underfoot, until the last precious late-night conversation wound down. But there is no way in hell we can manage another holiday season like that one, because floundering in all the happy happy joy joy was one miserable, disoriented, sleep-disturbed little boy with autism and his equally disoriented parents.

A few years back we were able to negotiate a Thanksgiving deferral, a plan that moved our family holiday gathering to the weekend after Thankgiving or bypassed the holiday madness altogether, pushing our annual family pow wow up into January birthday season. We're lucky, no kids, retired parents, a weird genetic disposition towards avoiding traditional employment gives us independence in planning.

Fake plastic wishbones? Around Thanksgiving time last year, I read a post by blogger Rejin from Urban Botany blasting People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) for promoting plastic Lucky Break Wishbones. She wrote: Hasn't PETA ever heard of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch? They claim these wishbones and their packages are recyclable, but let's face it: 99.99% of them are going to end up in a landfill, or in the ocean, where they will probably be swallowed by sea turtles [And I would add baby albatross chicks] who will choke and die.... Animals, PETA, animals! Do you hear me? Apparently PETA did not because the organization promoted the wishbones again this year. Products like these are what blogger Linda Anderson from Citizen Green would call "stupid plastic crap."

It seems like a dream job, yet again, sort of like The Best Job in the World competition. It's Expedition 206, a Coca-Cola funded tour of the planet with the lofty goal of finding out what happiness means to people all around the world. The winners, three "Happiness Ambassadors" are going on a 206 country tour in one year to, according to the site, "Find out what makes people happy."

The holidays are supposed to be "the most wonderful time of the year," yet for many people they might as well be known as "the most stressful time of the year." We often think of stress as something that only affects adults, but it can play a significant role in the lives of children as well, especially around the holidays. There are a lot of changes to children's routines during the holidays, from visits from unfamiliar relatives to traveling, from an influx of sweets to over-scheduled days and late bedtimes. All of these things can take a toll on the wee ones.

Oftentimes we don’t have to travel someplace grand or distant to encounter the mysterious and unexpected.Apricot, burgundy, sunshine gold, rust. Autumn is such a drama queen. It’s impossible to ignore it. A bush that has been invisible for most of the year in its drab, green sameness jumps out of hiding wearing a coat of flaming red.

It was about three months ago that I received an invitation to participate in a social media cruise. The deal? A handful of travel bloggers were invited for seven days of Caribbean cruising in exchange for covering their adventures on Twitter, their blogs, whatever social media format they choose. I declined for a handful of reasons -- I get seasick, I'm a little claustrophobic, I was highly skeptical that this trip was my scene.

I took a guided tour yesterday. I'm not really a guided tour person -- I didn't like climbing in and out of the minivan, I didn't like having someone else decide when I get to stop to take pictures, and I didn't really appreciate the day's agenda. Hey, it was an experiment, every now and then I like to try out something I might not otherwise do. It's good to look at other ways of travel. I don't judge -- if you like guided tours you go right ahead, they're crazy efficient and on good ones, you learn stuff.

I freaked right out when visiting Warwick with my now repatriated friend who was living, at the time, in England. The bowels of that castle were full of horrors, plus, until we moved through history to more genteel times, it seemed like no way to live. I fell in to a giant weeping mess at Toul Sleng in Phnom Pehn and had to be removed to a quiet courtyard across the street where I recovered with a cup of tea. I was less traumatized by Schoenbrunn, Vienna's sprawling palace complex, though I am still mad at Queen Marie Therese for being anti-Semitic.

The "immigrant experience"  is a phrase I usually associate with the U.S., what with people from across the world streaming in here everyday. A travelogue is what I'd associate with literature by foreigners from India. But the blogosphere is telling a different story. Many American and other Western citizens, who have either got on the love train or are riding the global economy wave that took them to India or simply love living there, are blogging about their experiences in a personal way that travel guides are unlikely to offer. Some are there for a few years.

Last year, shortly before Halloween, some pals went on a haunted/spooky/some third adjective tour in Georgetown, a recovering industrial neighborhood here in Seattle. I missed it, I was in Tampa and ended up a bit too close to a Sarah Palin rally for my likings, that's all I needed to set the tone for my Halloween. I wish I'd been able to attend the Seattle tour, those things have a way of sticking with you and now, every time we buzz through Georgetown -- there's a coffee house I like there -- my husband points out haunted brothels and places where other unseemly events took place.