When I was a girl, my dad always tried to teach me about cars.  He pointed to what this thing was and he explained how it worked.   And I remember none of what he tried to teach me.  I remember looking at his tan, scarred hands, that grime under the nails that would never come out.  I can close my eyes and smell the mix of diesel fuel and cigarette smoke. That was the smell of my dad after a long honest day's work in the shop.  The literal blue collar with his name stitched across his chest.

Top 10 Favorite National Parks for National Park Week by WhereGalsWander

The entirety of the garden is never visible at once. Instead the viewer is led to uncover intentionally hidden views of the landscape while strolling along its curved paths.

It's a seemingly cliche question: would you travel to a place or to a...

The perfect place to begin traveling again is Carson Valley, Nevada. I'm tired of making "bucket lists", after the year we have all been through, it's time to start thinking about really matters. What will feed my soul, renew and refresh me? Where can I once again feel a connection with people, and validate a sense of resilience and purpose? Go beyond things to check off on your travel goals list.

he turkey snuggled right in, and as we began to pet her, she closed her eyes and began to make a purring sound! We stroked the soft feathers and Sun bobbed her head, eyes still closed in a perfect state of relaxation.