Chiquitita

Sometimes the brain is too tired for words. 

That's when Uke 'n Whistle.

For lovers of love

I stole this from our brother Corban. 

It's lovely.

A Day in the Sun

Premal and I sneaked away to Florida for a quick 24 hours over the weekend. Rohan, my brother in-law, is in his first year of medical school near Tampa, and we wanted to be there to cheer him on at his white coat ceremony (the allure of a brief escape from the frigid north we call home had nothing to do with our decision).

The trip was short, but we packed it to capacity. There was the ceremony, a trip to the beach and an art fair, walks around Tampa and Sarasota, we caught some live music, watched the sunset (and rise) over the ocean, and of course, a lot of great food. Oh! I almost forgot that we even managed to squeeze in a couple of overs at a pick-up cricket match. Dreamy.

In fact it was so dreamy that I was hit by a sfit of inspiration during my time in the sun. And so, I give you, my

TOP 5 Vitamin D Binge Induced 

(perhaps obvious, but seemed groundbreaking at the moment) 

Revelations:

1) Cricket is my kind of sport—Premal looks preeeeeeeetty fine when he bowls, and they have tea breaks, and Americans think I'm fancy when I know stuff about the sport. WIN.

2) All of the stereotypes regarding retirees in Florida are 100% true. Never before have I seen so many saucy septuagenarians

3) My brother in-law has never had a sister, so I get to spend all my time with him making up for his 23-years of sad sisterless-ness. So much unsolicited advice regarding fashion/girls, so little time!

4) Trips to warmer climates in the dead of winter are amazing.

5) 24-hours is totally enough time for a micro-vacation, so if you're hankering for one, just go for it!

Cream Puffs and Pirates

I was about six. Construction forced us into the tiny carriage house behind our old home on Zenobia Street. Our French teacher, Leslie, was over and we were were making cream puffs. I remember how counter intuitive the dough seemed -- you cooked it on the stove before putting it in the oven. As we waited for the buttery pastries to bake, work began on something else. The insides of a vanilla bean was scraped. Eggs, milk, cream and sugar were combined, cooked and coalesced into a custard of mythical status. I will never forget biting into that rich, airy, balloon of creamy, fluffy wonder. But for some reason, until Thursday, that was the last time I made a cream puff. 

Serene. Sublime. Lemon Ginger Blueberry Cream Puffs on a painted table (I love to paint furniture) with other pretty random stuff...

Fast forward. Thursday was my one year second transplant anniversary. We didn't want to do anything big, but Yoni was pretty intent on making a lung shaped cake. This was a little too literal a celebration for my taste. After careful thought, I remembered Yoni had once made eclairs. So why not cream puffs with blueberries? I realized we could add ginger and lemon to the custard after it set and have something really spectacular. As I piped the cream into the cream puffs, we had some unexpected visitors: Pirate Phin and Princess Hetti turned Yoni into a cake with sprinkes. Meanwhile, Kimber introduced The Willabeast to custard. A knock at the door revealed Liberty and Premal with five &pizza pies. We're moving next week, so the house was a wreck, but the company and the evening was nothing less than magical.

One Puff, Two Puff, Three Puff, Four Puff, Five Puff; Pirate Phin; Liberty, The Willabeast and Kimber; Princess Hetti and Pirate Phin with Yoni Cake and Sprinkles; Custard and Blueberries; The Willabeast takes her first bite of custard... I think we might have weened her...

PS. The luminous Shiloh was nominated as one of Yale's 50 most beautiful people. If he gets 200 likes, (vote for him here... and follow us), we will do an epic FIVE giveaway the likes of which has never been seen. I haven't yet confirmed this with my sisters, but as long as they mail it ('m terrible at mailing things), I promise to deliver something that will blow your mind.

PPS. Other fun news, thanks for going to see my TEDxMidAtlantic talk last week! It seems the folks at the TEDblog  did the same thing and yesterday my talk went up here. Thank you so much for all of your support! You guys are awesome! 

Something Extraordinary

I've been busy lately -- moving cross country; finally settling into our crazy house; teaching Hettie to read, Phineas to use the potty and Willa to abstain from biting other humans with her three genuine teeth. You know, the regular stuff. But hectic times call for quality procrastination. And I've been blessed in that department, too.

My beloved congregation here (which is also Charity's) is in the middle of a really wonderful service project: collecting handmade hats for the kids at D.C. Children's Hospital Oncology Unit. The goal is to make at least 500 by mid-March. My crafty alter-ego doesn't get too many chances to come out and play, but my little fingers have been busily crocheting for the last several weeks, whenever I happen to find a free moment without a kid or a dirty dish or a moving box in my hands.  And if I use a big enough hook, I can bang out a chunky little topper in one episode of Downton Abbey or a round trip drive to our brother's house in the suburbs (but only if Dave is doing the actual driving part...). It's done a marvelous job keeping my hands and heart toasty during this miserable cold snap.

Can you guess which yarn Hettie picked? I suppose if she loves it, some other 4-year-old might, too :-)

If you would like to join in this really meaningful effort, I would be SO grateful -- and I promise you'll feel great. Hats need to be brand new, never worn, for kids ages 2-18 (with the greatest need for 8-13-year-olds). These are very sick kids, and it makes them happy to receive something made especially for them. Beyond that, there aren't any restrictions on the style or material -- we have knitters, loomers (is that a word?), sewers, sending hats from all over. If you (or a zealous group of friends!) would care to join us, please let me know and I'll send you all the details!

Cruel Couture? Ask Five.

Q: Several years ago, my mother bought me a winter coat with a detachable faux fur collar. I loved the coat, and wore it out until it became threadbare (I wore it mostly without the collar, as it wasn't very comfortable). As I was about to let it go, I looked at its fabric content. Much to my surprise, the collar was not made of faux fur. In fact, it was a full fledged fur. 

*Dog* fur.

I'm a bit horrified, but not sure what to do. I mean, from a sustainability perspective, I guess dogs are in a similar boat as cows. That said, I have a sweet puppy of my own who I love dearly and, well, the collar matches her coat far too closely for me not to see her on a belt buckle when I look at the collar . . .

So here is my conundrum. What should I do with the fur? I don't want to be near it, but tossing it doesn't feel right, either. I'd appreciate your advice!

Thanks,

Con-fur-icted

As:

A Precious Little Bundle of Xanax

Do you ever find yourself feeling at all grumpy?
Your toes are cold, your hair's not right, your tummy's gotten lumpy.
Maybe your friends are far away or your family's all mad,
Your circumstances are a bust and generally make you sad.

Perhaps you've lots of work to do which you would rather not
(and procrastination can be fun, but leaves you feeling taut).
Your mind might simpuhly be caught in a nasty, grumpy snow
Where even nice things make you scowl -- I know that feel, bro.

But don't despair, you angered or annoyed or ill-provoked,
Lift up your heavy drooping eyes, forsake your lack of hope!
For there was n'er an ailing heart which could not be made better
By a tiny Scottish pony, in a Scottish pony sweater.

Or maybe two:

Pictures discovered by Tom here, who then emailed them to Mercina, who emailed them to me, who shared them with you because I'm kind and want you to have pretty things.

Frigid

For the last few days, Connecticut has been absolutely frigid. Really, soul crushingly cold. Walking to and from class requires Herculean strength. When I'm in my room, I drag my blanket around so I can wrap myself in it whenever I sit down....Every meal is a struggle, not because going to a meal means going outside (I don't *actually* have to go outside ro get to the dining hall....), but because the thought of venturing outside my blanket cocoon is downright painful. I just never seem to get warm. So I've been wearing a lot of these (at least two under everything I wear - they're actually kind of awesome. Super insulating and reeeally cheap right now), these (under my pants), and these (over my pants). I've also been drinking lots of this,  and eating lots of these:

Carbs make you warmer, right?

{Desperate times call for desperate measures}

Aaanyway,

I hope the sun returns - for me, my productivity, and my waistline.

What are your tips for fending off frost? I'm running out of ideas...

Also, did you guys see this story about the frozen fire?!
So crazy.

A lot can happen in a year...

Last night, I was grumbling about the frigid state of my flat (which has since been fixed) when I had to stop myself. A year ago today, it seemed unlikely I would see the next morning, let alone the next year. But I am here. I am so very alive. I am singing. I am in love. I know how very blessed I am to be alive.

I am so deeply grateful for the family who decided that their loss would mean life for me and others in situations all too similar to my own. The presence of mind and generosity of spirit to think of others while walking with those you love through their valley and shadow of death is the definition of charity. It speaks to a deep understanding of the nature of life, love and renewal and a kindness that pushes me forward each day.

So on this special anniversary, I share this video with you. I gave this talk late last year. It's a different story than I usually tell, but I hope the idea is one you'll pass along. Thank you all for your love, for your support and kindness during this journey. I hope it continues on for many, many years and decades to come. But regardless of its duration, I am so very fortunate to have people like you who have supported me through it.

Lots of love,  

America on Parade

Obamas, you so sassy!

It was cold yesterday. Very cold by DC standards, and yet Premal and I—and about a million of our fellow Americans—braved the elements for nearly 8 hours. Why, you ask? Well, because it was inauguration day and my brother got me tickets, and if I had tickets I was going to go goshdarnit. By the day’s end we had seen more uniforms than I knew existed, watched a herd of young unicyclists wipe out before our eyes, we had been accosted and held prisoner by sadistic police from the MPD (Sgt. Trainor, badge #S950—just in case you were curious), I cried at least 6 times and none of us could feel our toes. Oh, and we also saw the president. 

All in all, I’d call the day a success. 

(L) Pre-parade (R) post-inauguration

Fist-pump for Joe Biden

A sampling of the sartorial sensibilities of our armed forces on display 

 

Scenes around 1600 Pennsylvania Ave

bits and pieces....

After a raaaaaather ungraceful departure from our beloved Mile High City, and a hiiiiiighly eventful road trip (possibly involving a 2-a.m. lecture from an Iowa State Patrol Officer who felt compelled to make me sit in his cruiser for 20 minutes for driving six miles above the speed limit, an exploding trailer tire, and a 160-pound Mastiff named Levi), my little family and I are once again ensconced in our wee corner of the ghetto. We rolled in Tuesday night, and I'm still trying to conquer this:

Yikes.

Let's think about something more pleasant, shall we?

Much better.

 Did I tell you about the awesome Christmas brunch I made? It appeared to me this afternoon in a flashback vision when I momentarily lapsed into a bit of I-Don't-Think-I-Was-Cut-Out-For-This-Whole-Cooking/Cleaning/Diaper-Changing/Unpacking-Endless-Boxes-of-Supposedly-Educational-Toys Depression. And, I will confess, remembering that delicious holiday triumph brought me hope.

These sweet faces help, too. Also Phineas (whose absence from this picture is in no way an indicator of deficient parental affection).

Perfection is a strong word, but I can't think of a single thing I would change about that morning meal. Obviously, the company was superlative. But the food wasn't too shabby, either -- it was scrumptious, balanced, and came together pretty easily, even in my less-than-well-rested state. And nothing was particularly seasonal, so I might make the exact same thing for breakfasts all year long. Maybe tomorrow....

I used a recipe from Ina Garten's latest cookbook for lobster potato salad and made a couple of wild mushroom quiches -- all of which were pretty fantastic, (if I do say so myself). Then I set out some fancy olives, cheese and jam, as well as ephemerally delicious lemon cake Mercina made for Corban's birthday the night before. But the yogurt was really the best of all. And so simple, I'm not sure I could even call this a recipe.Whatever. Yum.

Spectacular Yogurt

In fancy glass dish, layer together:

  Noosa honey yogurt*

cut strawberries

raspberries

blackberries

pomegranate gems 

chiffonaded mint

Top with an abundant drizzle of good honey, some lemon zest, and a generous sprinkle of salted pistachios.

Ta-da! That's it! It will blow your mind. Now, if only organizing my house were that easy....

*Noosa yogurt is a Colorado product/religious experience. It's available pretty broadly in CO, but you might need to search a bit to find it elsewhere. You will not regret the effort. Unless you become totally addicted and have to break up with all your other yogurts in favor of this spendier, fattier version. If you don't want to risk that, get a nice Greek yogurt and spike it with some honey, lemon zest and juice to make it extra tangy-sweet...

 

Definitely one of the very best things I have ever made in the kitchen.

Five Reads!

Cowboys vs. Priorities

Upon my arrival at Yale twoish years ago, I attended a dinner for new transfer students. Along with me and Mercina, there were about 20 other kids in attendance -- including a couple of guys hailing from Deep Springs College, located on a ranch in the smack-dab center of Twenty-Five Miles Away from the Nearest Gas Station, California. During any given academic period, the Deep Springs student body is comprised of ~25 students who administrate the college at every level - from herding/killing/preparing/ food to cleaning to programming telephone lines to admitting new students to determining their own curriculum. These tasks are paired with rigorous intellectual ribbing in the form of extensive reading and heated small classroom discussion. It's only a two year program, so a lot of kids end up transferring when they finish there. I have lots of other cool stuff to say about Deep Springs, but this is already shaping up to be a long post; you can read more about it here or here.

Now imagine that this mule is several different mules, and they're all actually post-adolescent human males.

Anyway, upon hearing of it, I immediately adored this school on the range; I was also wracked with passionate feelings of 'why I no go theeeeeeeeeere?!?!?!?'. This is where I should clarify that when I mentioned the 'guys' at the transfer dinner, I meant actual males. This is not due to the fact that no sassy Deep Springs CoEds felt like migrating out East that year, but rather because the school has a strict "Must hold at least one Y Chromosome for admission" policy. Yes, Deep Springs is an all male college. A really, really cool all male college. In Almost Nevada, California, The West, USA.

Well, this fact made me a little sad, but I also understood why it was a fact. Girls change dynamics for boys (just as boys change dynamics for girls),* and sometimes it's best to hold the estrogen in a kick-@$$ pot of cowboy stew. Brewed fresh every semester in Far Enough into the Desert that No One Can Hear Your Weird Taste in Music, California. In fact, after pondering the peculiarly fulfilling intellectual and social experiences I've had in girls-only institutions, I down-right appreciated the gendered exclusivity. I came to admire the crazy old coot who established a place where young men-folk could be manly and responsible and do their larnin' without anything to disturb their chest hair-y, fart fueled Feng shui.

A good man chair for any gender-themed apartment

But alas -- only a few short months after hearing about Deep Springs/pestering my little brother Zenith to attend so I could lasso donkeys vicariously through him -- I learned that the board of this wondrous frontier fairy land was planning to open its application to women. Not only this, but the announcement (as well as its subsequent withdrawal due to legal issues concerning the terms of the college's trust) inspired a crop of condescending articles tsk tsk-ing the college on its no-good-sexist-jerk-who's-threatened-by-my-ovaries policies. This bothered me, and crystallized a problem I had been noticing for awhile in the woman's rights movement.

Ahem. Excuse me. . .  just a moment. I'm just going to. . . Can you scootch over a little? Super. Thank you so much. I'll just set this up riiiight here:

Ok. Great. Hi. I love equality. I think it's mad groovy. Women in the United States have done a really excellent job making up for progress lost to centuries of repression and sexism. Serious kudos to us! We've done so well, in fact, that we're surpassing our male counterparts in a lot of historically significant ways. Of course, there's still some shtuff we've yet to gloriously vanquish, but we shall doubtless feast on the ambrosial flesh of total conquest in good time, my splendid Amazons.  But I forgot my initial point. . . sorry. Where was I? Oh, yes. Unfortunately, this sweet, sweet progress sometimes neglects the fact that girls are not the only important people. Equality is not a competition. That wouldn't make any sense. Equality is getting the same treatment as everyone else. There's no use in opening doors for women if it means slamming them in the face of someone else. This is why it pisses me off when feminists get self-righteous and cranky over something as noninflammatory as a men's college. Not only does it not really matter, but it's an actual double standard (hello, Wellesley?). If you want a crazy wicked cowgirl (or cowboy/cowgirl) college, then go endow your own in All I Can See is Grass, Montana. But this is not about colleges -- however rural or gender segregated they may be. This is about women not 'progressing' so far and so quickly in our own goals that we steamroll the prerogatives of everyone else around us. Furthermore, human rights (including those of women) can't afford to get bogged down in such whiny non-issues when there is still much crummy stuff going on in general. There are much more important things to be indignant about. Like, go bother some sex traffickers. Those guys really suck. Ok? Ok. Bye.

*I recognize that boys like boys sometimes, too. I don't know how that changes dynamics in single-gendered settings, but I'm cool with it if they are.

Last week I did something amazing....

The last week brought with it some interesting changes for me. First, I was told it was time to stop listening to Christmas music (worst.day.ever.). Then, I left my beloved Colorado to start a new semester of school in dismal New Haven (also pretty lame). But before any of that nonsense, I did something really amazing. I recreated one of my all-time favorite Hungarian treats. It's called turo rudi. It's amazing. Those of you who don't already know/love turo rudi may not understand, but it's actually a deathly serious subject. For the realz. In the last three years, at least three people have been shot by people attempting to steal these babies. And, to be perfectly honest, I'm surprised it was only three....There's something seriously addicting about that sweet Hungarian turo (kind of like ricotta) dipped in chocolate.  "Cheese dipped in chocolate? Yikes! That's not the most appealing prospect!" If you're thinking this, you're wrong. It is the *most* appealing prospect.

Unfortunately turo rudi can't be purchased stateside. Neither can turo. But I was having some serious cravings, and those details were not going to stop me. So I spent a couple of hours working to concoct something that would resemble my beloved treat. The result wasn't perfect, but it was pretty darn good.

-------------------------------------------------

Ingredients:

Ricotta

Cream cheese

Goat cheese

Cottage cheese

Lemon juice

Lemon zest

Vanilla extract

Powdered sugar

Ghirardelli semisweet chocolate chips (or any good chocolate which hardens well)

To get the desired consistency, I let the ricotta and cottage cheese steep in cheese cloth the night before my turo adventure began. The next morning, I mixed equal parts cottage, cream, and ricotta cheese in our blender. I added some powdered sugar (to taste), lemon zest, a tiny bit of lemon juice and a few drops of vanilla. The result was uber tasty, but too smooth for my purposes. I dumped everything out and added some more steeped ricotta and cottage cheese. It had to be solid enough to mold, so I added a little more powdered sugar, too. I still wasn't wholly satisfied with the consistency, so I threw in some goat cheese. The mixture was really tasty, but still a little too liquid-y to be dipped in chocolate. Instead of adding more sugar, I used an ice cream scoop to spoon the mixture onto a cookie sheet (covered with parchment paper) and froze my little globs. It took about an hour for the patties to solidify. After they froze the real magic started. I dipped each one in melted chocolate and waited for them to harden. And oh snap were they good!

I wish I had pictures, but they were all gobbled up before I had a chance to photograph them.... Kimber wasn't totally convinced that the goat cheese was a good call, but I'll leave that up to your discretion.

Honeymooners 2: (Water)Falling

Falling

The next leg of our journey was spent near the town of La Fortuna, and at the base of Arenal volcano. Now, you may question the judgment of the person who decided to build a whole town right beneath an active volcano—I certainly did. But when they’re not spewing molten rocks and drowning villagers in burning hot magma, volcanos actually make pretty good neighbors. They’re attractive, volcanic soil is great for agriculture and all of the geothermal activity means that natural hot springs abound! Not to mention if you’re going to make a virgin sacrifice, it’s way more convenient to have the volcano right next door instead of trekking through the wilderness before you can appease the gods.

While I really can’t pick a favorite part of our adventure, our time in near Arenal was definitely the most “Costa Rica-y.” We went on breathtaking hikes up mountains and through rainforests. We swam in lagoons and relaxed in hot springs in the middle of the jungle. We saw color-changing rivers, and poison dart frogs, and trees you could drive a bus under. It rained every day, but we didn't mind at all.  

I've been lucky enough to travel quite a bit in my life thus far, but up to this point I had only ever been to the  "urban jungles" of Europe and the Middle East. I love wandering the streets that are pieces of my personal patrimony, but I felt rather appropriate there in the forest. And I have a feeling that this is going to be the first of many more wild adventures.

more pictures of our trip here!

Ox carts used to be so fancy!

little did I know we were about to ford that river!

Feeling pretty cool...

Two minutes later: 1) Water has changed from blue to brown, 2) the waterfall had tripled in size, 3) the rock island from the picture above had vanished. Our guide to Premal "We wait 30-second more, and you don't make it!"

close enough to touch...

I don't mean to brag, but we hiked to a natural hot tub in the middle of a river, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RAINFOREST.

The photo on the left is from a a place where sulfur is leached into the water from a fissure in the riverbed, turning to water from green to vibrant blue midstream. So. Cool.

After three days of hiking we thought we deserved a massage....

EPIDEMIC!! Five tips that can help you avoid the flu this season

The flu has come to every town USA. Usually, this means being sick... which isn't fun. But when you're immune system is suppressed and you happen to be a transplantee, the risks are much much MUCH more severe. Thus, I've become something of an expert on avoiding germs. While I still get sick, I'm getting better at avoiding it. So here are my top five tips for avoiding the flu or stopping its spread if you happen to have or get it.

Misery and germs love nothing more than human company. So sit down with a good book. Do some journaling. Read some poetry. These beauties belong to my friend Jay Walker who's a big book collector. They're encrusted with gold, lacquer, rubies, diamonds and other crazy stuff. I love this one which is  just a bit cheaper :) 

5. Be Anti Social. This is the perfect time of year to catch up on correspondence, old tv shows, blog posts, etc. Call an old friend. Try out some new recipes. Start spring cleaning early. Home is where the heart is and where you're safest from germs.

4. Stay Hydrated. When you don't have enough fluids in your system, you're more susceptible to bugs. So pour yourself a giant mug of peppermint tea (I also LOVE Good Earth Original Herbal Tea. SO good!) and then another mug, and then another mug. It's good fort he body, mind and soul.

Apple cider and mint hot chocolate. Yum!

3. Keep It Fresh! Despite common belief, there are plenty of veggies that grow in the wintertime. Citrus is in season. So is kale, cauliflower, broccoli, kohlrabi, and a lot of those super healthy leafy greens. So eat up! All of those nutrients will help your system and look at the links for some great recipes.

Not only are winter veggies incredibly high in anti oxidants, they are gorgeous and delicious!

2. Make like the Japanese, US Presidents or any number of other folks and bow. Ok. You don't have to bow. But hands are super dirty. So wave, do air kisses, try an Obama bump, do something but PLEASE don't shake hands. They are very useful, but they are absolutely filthy.

1. Speaking of hands, WASH THEM ... and try not to touch your face with them. This is probably the easiest and best way to avoid the spread of germs. Cover your coughs count dracula style. If you're traveling, don't grab for the sky mall and the pockets in front of you. Keep your hands to yourself and  wash them frequently.

Sometimes you'll still get sick. I just got back from the hospital but the good new is, it wasn't the flu and so far (crossing my fingers) everything looks like it's going to be ok. But these tips have helped me get through tons of travel, events and interactions unscathed by germs.

What are your tips for staying healthy?  

Why? Because science, that's why.

Shiloh, Mercina and I got back to New Haven today. Even though school doesn't start until Monday, I decided to start the semester off right by doing some larnin on the Youtube. If you're looking for a good time, watch this video of Richard Feynman discoursing on, among other things, how fire is recycled sunshine and trees assemble themselves from thin air. But "how is it the tree is so smaht?" Wonder no longer -- Richard Feynman will tell you.

Favorite tidbits from winter break

1. Birthday flowers 2. Christmas morning 3. NPR backup dancers 4. Shiloh reunited with his beloved pup
5. Birthday breakfast

Honeymooners

I was sick over the weekend. This means different things to different people. To Charity and Yoni, it meant cancelled dinner plans for Saturday. For Mercina, it meant an incoherent birthday call punctuated by my own special brand of cough—a braying-cough, so abrasive that passersby stare at me with a mix of disgust and terror if ever one escapes me whilst in public, and I honestly don’t blame them. For Premal, it meant one more patient on his roster. And for me, it meant three days of nose-blowing, mouth-breathing, tissue-sculpture building, bad TV-watching, and self-stalking on this here blog.

“But Liberty, what does that paragraph have to do with all of these pictures where you look positively resplendent” you ask?

Well, first, “resplendent?” gosh. Thank you, you are too sweet! But to answer your question, I realized, somewhat miraculously considering my drug-induced haze, that I never posted pictures of our trip HONEYMOON to Costa Rica. So, months-late, but memories still crisp, here is the first installment of snaps from the absolutely perfect week Premal and I spent in Costa Rica.

More pictures from our trip here!

So. Much. Coffee.

SLOTH!

oh, don't mind us, we're just standing AT THE MOUTH OF A VOLCANO! 

These pictures are all from our time in San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica. We spent an afternoon kicking around the city, and then on our second day we went on a fantastic tour where we saw a volcano, a coffee plantation, a whole bunch of waterfalls, AND A SLOTH! But the very best part of our stay in the capital city had to have been our accommodations. Premal found a place on airbnb that had great ratings, and signed us up for four nights there over the course of our trip. I will admit that I was skeptical, four nights seemed like a big gamble to place on a perfect stranger, and backing out of the arrangement would be complicated. But upon our arrival my dear husband was sweetly vindicated. The home was idyllic, and our host, Darrylle, quickly felt like an old friend.

Which, as chance would have it, is exactly what he was...