O, my wallet! (part two)

Look at her! On the move!

She’s not in London anymore! She’s moved north, to Bridgnorth. Where will she go next? Oh, she’s her very own Dr. Seuss book.


O, my wallet! (Part one)

I dropped my wallet in Heathrow, Terminal 5, on April 4, on our return from Nice. I noticed I had lost it shortly after I did so, but it was too late for me to retrace my steps. We’d already gone from one gate in the terminal to another, and we were very nearly boarding (or so I thought), so I let myself watch it wistfully via the “Find My” app on my phone, using my AirTag for the first time. AO quickly discovered that Heathrow had a lost and found website and within a day, I had located on the site what I assumed was my wallet and made a claim for it. Nothing happened for days and days. I tweeted @Heathrow, received an email address to try, and still nothing. I tried another website and nothing. Finally, after what seemed like months but was probably 10 days, I received a cold email with a code to enter on yet another site so that I could begin the process of bringing my wallet home. At this point, I had already ordered–and received–new debit and credit cards and a new drivers’ license. I had spent $16 to replace these items, but I was out a wallet, an AirTag, and a work security card. I filled out the form on the new site with the code, entering the info to have the wallet sent to me across the pond. Beep beep bloop beep boop. The total for such a service? 133 pounds. Or about $170. Er, record scratch. WHAT?!?! That seemed insane to me. It doesn’t cost anywhere near $170 to mail a tiny package across the Atlantic. Does it? So, I said, no way. And here is where my wallet sat.

Having the time of her life!

See her over there? So cute! She’s just living it up! Well, we’ll see about that.

Ode to our UPS delivery driver

I love talking politics with our ups delivery driver. He’s just the bees’ knees.

I love talking with him! I especially loved it during the pandemic because he was often the only non-family voice I heard during the day.

I love that when I say “thank you“ to him, and he’s already crossed the street, he’ll often cross back to chat with me, in the snow, about the Wisconsin Supreme Court or the governor’s race or MGT, or whatever else is going on politically.

I love hearing him share with me his wife’s thoughts while I offer him Aaron’s.

I love hearing him give me the scuttle on the other delivery guy, who is less-than-friendly (and apparently a Trump-er).

I love this small piece of consistency in an otherwise inconsistent (albeit routine) world. It’s comforting.

Shops I miss that were on State St, Madison, WI*

{Dates are approximate, and I’m filling them in as I learn more. Feel free to correct me or to share info!}

Tellus Mater (1959-2019)

Driftless Studios

The Puzzlebox

MMoCA gift shop

The Peacock

The Boot Barn (I mean, because)

The Den

That store that had all the backpacks and travel bags


Avol’s Books

Sacred Feather

The Yellow Jersey (1971- moved to Arlington, WI in 2013)

Shakespeare’s Books**

Capitol Kids**

*This is limited to retail shops. I’ll save restaurants for another day. I know you folks really want to know how I feel about those.

**On Carroll Street, but so very close.

Me, as a type one parent

A zillion things come to mind. But two rise to the top. One, fierce admiration for my girl and her courage and fortitude and attitude. She’s amazing. And two, exhaustion. There are no days off. This shit is relentless. Site changes, sensor changes, beep beep beep. And the sleepless nights waiting for numbers to rise or fall and wondering what you did wrong or right and researching when there will be an answer for any of this—well, those nights suck. But alas, type one. We’ll fight on.

June 2023

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