We’ve just stopped at Willard Bay on the Salt Lake, where I dipped the fingers of my right hand in the famed salty water. Mother says I stood ankle deep in the lake during a visit with them many years ago, but I don’t remember at all. Honestly, from what I’ve experienced, taking children to places when they are small is more for the parents than the child. Perhaps that visit to the Great Salt Lake – and the vacation also included the Grand Canyon and New Mexico – shaped me in some unknown way, but I honestly don’t remember any part of it. I want to remember, since the stories from my parents are laced with love, humor and silliness. For instance, I wanted only battered fish to eat at every meal: My Grandfather traveled with us, and he cooked the most delicious fish, when I stayed with him and my Grandmother at their simple, wooden beach house in North Carolina. I can only assume this was the catalyst for my fish fascination while on that vacation.

Several folks have e-mailed: How is life now that you are back in the US? Life back in the US doesn’t feel one way or another – yet. I’ve been impressed by the efficiency and good service we’ve experienced thus far, but, honestly, after being away for almost three years, I can’t possibly draw any kind of parallels until I spend more time here.