Carrie Classon

My landlord, Jorge, is a patron of the arts. When I imagine a patron of the arts, I imagine some fabulously wealthy person in the past, supporting the creation of…

My husband, Peter, and I were traveling in Mexico when we suddenly found ourselves without a place to stay. Over the years, all our accommodations while traveling have been quirky…

My great-uncle John never buttered his bread. “I don’t have time for butter!” he insisted. I never knew how much time butter took, but apparently it was more than Uncle…

“I can always sleep in my rain jacket,” my husband Peter announced. Vacationing in rental homes is usually a bit of an adventure. We don’t need luxurious digs, and instead…

The bells ring more or less all the time here. My husband, Peter, and I are in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, a city filled with old churches. Every old…

In my dream, the jungle was thick and dark. There was a river running through it and I was on a small raft, careening down it. The current was flowing…