There is a way to fly oversees on a military plane if you are retired or active duty. We had to learn the ropes but the gist is — be ready to hurry up and wait. The other caveat is you are not guaranteed boarding. We spied a flight to Germany and bingo, we got on. We got really lucky for our first time flying this way. Once we arrived, we just hopped on a train and headed to Belgium.

We had a couple of really fun travel books with us including Tim Webb’s Good Beer Guide. This book lead us to some unforgettable beer bars in Belgium. One in particular was the infamous Brugs Beertje. We had heard that New Belgium Brewing was conceived while the founders were sitting at Beertje in the 1980s. When we arrived we found a spot and we were served by Daisy who suggested that we start out our day with a triple from De Koninick. What a punch! This beer was not for the faint at heart. There was classical music playing during this early afternoon hour as we were served a gracious amount of cheese and meat (this was before I became a purely plant based eater). Husbae and I sat happily in those chairs for a few hours soaking up the stories of the locals boasting tales of lake swimming during beautiful, moonlit evenings in Serbia during gap year and bicycling to Amsterdam. All the while, one couple was on holiday from London smiling quietly at each other and there was a group in the corner playing a slow game of chess. It was a simple thing really but everything felt so right.

During that same trip, we spent time in Cologne (or Köln) sipping the ever friendly Kolsch in between visits to the museums and cathedrals. We also basked in the healing waters in Baden-Baden. We made a point of stopping in Mosel to taste the most delicious wines with my favorite being the pale straw dry Riesling. It was an amazing trip but the shining glory was toasting a glass in that little bar in Bruges where everything felt so right. Sometimes, it’s the simplest memory that shines the brightest.

Listening to: Everything’s Right by Phish

I have done this before. Once, but with photography and poetry. It was nice and esoteric. Something I could share that was meaningful but not too direct. That was a couple of years ago…I scrubbed that account. Que sera.

Fast forward to where I am perched today, finally beginning the tale to plot my ramblings as I journey on another path of learning. This time, my toolkit requires sauve technique. This time the path requires patience and rigor. The reward is not granted to one who shows up only. A battle scar is needed and a weary mind from quick paced material. I have both.

Code school, boot camp indeed. Learning computer languages for me is fascinating and liberating. To be able to create something that is beautiful and ubiquitous, spanning space and only as limitless as our minds is absolutely incredible…but before all that, the labor of going through the paces is meaningful. I have been slowly learning the building blocks of programming, its kindergarten really but in this space one can grow very quickly. The idea doesn’t even make sense but it is true. Ones mind can begin to connect the dots and see it.

Programming does not come naturally for me as I have never before nurtured my analytical mind outside of philosophical pontifications. I have had the fortune to encounter teachers that have been generous with their instruction, thank god(the old and the new). The school that I attend has had major growing pains and tried to stay nimble but alas has succumbed to the ebb and flow of enterprise.

We are one of the last cohorts for the Iron Yard. It is bittersweet to see the doors close as I know firsthand, the necessity for such endeavors to exist. They were adamant to tackle the very real problem of diversity in tech. This work must persist. I plan to do my part and pick up the torch, however small the flame right now.

in the ears: In a Sentimental Mood/Duke Ellington & John Coltrane

bookmarked by the bedside: The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolf

in the air: Light Rain Showers