“If you stay long enough in one place the whole world will pass by.” That’s what my Native American teacher used to say to me. He knew my love for travel – I’d been to Europe, the Middle East, North Africa, Central America – and was trying to tell me I needn’t really go anywhere to find what I was looking for. That was years ago, before I got married and had children.

My husband and I have an eight-year-old and a five-year-old. We live in the suburbs, in Michigan, and whenever I have an itch to travel, I don’t search the web for airline tickets and pack up any luggage (well, occasionally I do). I simply find a place that draws me, chase down my two young ones, dress them up, throwing a bit of profanity here and there when my son decides to make it a circus affair, and off we go in our mini-van which I’d recently dented when I backed into a garbage dumpster in the parking lot of our local video store. We end up landing in various places, which to me have held the same wonder and awe I experienced when traveling abroad. This blog is about my community. And the world around it that makes it what it is.