No. 24

Coming from the TV Writing World, I always saw 24 episodes as the perfect narrative arch. There's a reason in the heyday that series were built in sets of 24.

There was a function to it, sufficient time for character growth in a story line that could crescendo and resolve with a natural conclusion, while still leaving thirst for more: everyone loves a cliff-hanger, and every writer wants to earn a Season Two.

When I first started thinking about writing a Substack, my goal was to write exactly that: twenty-four articles. At that point, twenty-four Substack articles felt like an impossible task. I didn’t really know what I was going to write about, I just knew I missed writing and wanted to write more. I also knew that I missed travelling, and wanted to travel more, and that perhaps stories existed somewhere between the lines of memory and current-day homeschooling adventures.

Travelling with a six-year-old has been an education, itself.

From the Caribbean Sea to the Mediterranean, Tennessee to Toronto, this year introduced us to beautiful cultures, foods and languages, but it has also been exhausting, humbling and not without its challenges.

Today, I arrive at the writer’s desk jet lagged, bleary-eyed, and totally fulfilled by our most recent trip to the South of France: a fever dream of violet ice cream, rosé and rivers of medieval cobblestone.

As the days before travelling to France grew closer, I told Zazie, “Five more sleeps til France!”

She would answer with groans and moans. “Not another plaaaane!”, she’d whine.

I got it. The plane home from Spain had been brutal. Children vomiting in seats along the rows; my own stomach swirling from a nasty gastro bug. Red-eye flights are not for the faint-hearted adult, let alone small children.

“This is different,” I explained to Zazie. “We’re flying KLM and Air France.”

These airlines stood up to their reputation; nay, raised the bar on my expectations of what is possible from an airline. The food was great, complaints resolved quickly, and a thoughtful presence was exhibited by all staff: they didn’t seem angry to be there.

Air Canada and West Jet (our most previously travelled airlines), not so much. They were so challenged by their own inertia, they never seemed to set flight. Terrible food at high prices, payable only by credit card, made even short flights with children feel unbearable. Despite filling carry-on with endless snacks, eventually the lure of granola bars runs out. When the only thing available is over-priced Mr Noodles? No Bueno.

Nevertheless, here we are. It’s the end of era.

We’ve done the Herculean task. We’ve weathered February to September of International Travel and I’d say, we’ve done very well:

A. Zazie, Kal and I still like one another.

B. Zazie can speak French in a French accent, even if it’s only a few words.

C. Zazie can speak Spanish in a Spanish accent, even if it’s only a few words.

D. Zazie understands “LINE” etiquette.

Maybe this weird neurosis with line etiquette comes from being raised by British people or being raised in Colonial Society BUT being able to stand in a long line without losing your shit is a FUNDAMENTAL SOCIETAL RULE that unfortunately requires lessons. Children left to their own devices do anything but stay still in one line, quietly apprehensive, row on row. It is the anti-thesis to childhood; the magnetic north to south. And yet, Zazie acclimatized. She was (eventually) a diligent line-stander. This skill is something that cannot go without comment as I pool opinions and thoughts on this past year of World Schooling. Lessons in “The Herd”…

E. Overall, was World Schooling fun? Yes. Was it difficult to get my child through the airport? YES.

F. I think new Paid Subscriber threads include Homeschooler Airport hacks, wherein I’ll recommend giving into requests for chocolate cake at the incredibly expensive airport bar. Does it save you money? No. Does it make the long pre-board airport hang joyful and that much more fun? Yes, 100%.

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While I’m talking to you, Paid Subscribers…I have to tell you that I’m so grateful for all your support and belief in me, my wild ways, and my writing in the past year…

Writing for Substack has been a HUGE game-changer for me.

Writing for you has made me a better person, a stronger writer, and helped me learn an entire new online Writing Program called “Substack”, wherein I’m building an empire of travel logs, whimsy and lore.

We’re not saying goodbye forever to Cosmic Dive Bar — but I need a break.

I’m going to click <PAUSE> on Subscriptions.

I got a job as an Biodynamic Arts Teacher at a school in Cookstown called the Clover Hill School House. With this dream job, Zazie gets to enjoy an incredible education and I get to work planting biodynamic gardens and directing festivals and plays.

Growing food is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And so…I am going to gratefully “pause subscription” so I can get my hands dirty. We made it to twenty-four articles and I am humbled and grateful to everyone who has been along for this ride.

There is no doubt more to come, but for now…

<PAUSE>

In gratitude,

Kate