Muhammad Ali Pasha al-Mas'ud ibn Agha (Not the boxer)

"Hello" they recite in unison. A group of school girls are trying out
their english.

"Hello." Dad replies. "How are you?"

This is met with giggles. They're not sure what he is asking them.

"Mr. Where. Are. You. From." They slowly pronounce each word as they
practiced in class.

"Canada." Dad smiles at his flock of admirers.

"Oh yes. Canada Dry. Nice. Nice." They reply.

This is the first time we have had this response. We will hear it many
more times before we head home.

"We won't get anywhere if he keeps encouraging him." Alice says. We
joined Alice and her daughter Erica along with the guide Essam for our
Egyptian vacation.

Alice talks. I'm not sure how she manages to get oxygen into her
lungs. I have known her for three hours now and I know she is from
California, worked in banking until her bank was taken over by the
Fed., has a troubled relationship with her daughter, lost her father,
loves to travel, has a police officer husband, hates Obama, has Greek
ancestry, had a bad European tour experience, loves Hawaii, and
Mexico, has been to Egypt before, drinks coffee not tea... She is the
embodiment of the "American" tourist, but seems genuine and kind. So,
I swallow my prejudice and try to engage her.

"Shake a leg." Essam calls and holds up his blue clipboard as a beacon
for us to follow.

We head to the entrance of Muhammad Ali's mosque. Essam hands us
tickets. We line up at metal detectors for a cursory inspection of our
bags and persons. Essam heads through first and shakes hands with
everyone he encounters. The same men line up to search our bags.

Father of modern Egypt. Reformed the military. Headed land reform.
Built a central bureaucracy. Essam fills us with more details that we
can possibly hold onto. I start to learn how deep the history of this
country runs. I am reminded of how young Canada is.

Muhammad Ali's Mosque
I love the architectural details in moorish influenced buildings. The
arches, the curved doorways, and window details combine to create an
elegant facade. The details remind me of the buildings in Seville.

The mosque's courtyard houses a few women holding out white modesty
gowns. I dressed with modesty in mind this morning. My skirt covers my
knees. My shirt covers my shoulders. That doesn't stop the man behind
us from pushing women forward and demanding I wrap myself in a gown.
Two women lift my arms and start robing me. In arabic, they firmly
demand something from me. I'm pretty sure it's money they are looking
for.

Essam realizes that Treesa and I have fallen behind the group. He
returns to the entrance looking for us. Short sharp words are
exchanged with the man in charge of the gowns. Then the handshake
where palms never meet occurs. Money was passed between them, and
Essam herds us off to meet up with our group.

"Privatization." he says. "This man has been hired recently to run the
gown rental. It used to be run by the government. He is "stricter" in
his assessment of acceptable dress."

Even religious institutions need to drive a profit these days.

It is beautiful. The court yard's alabaster reflects the sun. The
interior of the mosque is painted in green and gold and hurricane
style lights are suspended from the ceiling. The floors are covered in
persian carpets. We pad about barefoot and learn about Mamluk
architecture, the height of the mihrab and Muhammad's son whose death
inspired the building.

As we leave the mosque we are approached by women who disrobe Treesa
and me. I step into my shoes and out into the sun. Cairo lies at our
feet. I can see why Muhammad came to this mountain.

www.adogabroadayear.wordpress.com for images

Breakfast

My first breakfast in Egypt.

It happens at the ungodly hour of 6am. I hate mornings, but after a
few days here I will come to see the common sense behind starting your
day this early. For now the breakfast buffet will be my solace.

My introduction to Egyptian food starts with black tea. Here, they add
mint to the hot water and then brew the black tea. Awesome!

The hotel we are at must cater to both western and eastern travellers.
The breakfast buffet has a crepe bar and an egg man making any
omlette, over easy, or fried egg thing you can dream up right next to
a felafel maker with fresh hummus. There's also a bean, tomato and
onion spread with pita that people are digging in to, but this seems a
little too heavy for me for the first day.

The baking deserves a special mention. The breads are sweet and
fluffy. Buns are fresh, some are covered in granulated sugar and some
are stuffed with a fig paste or chocolate. So good.

And if you want a little honey on your toast or in your tea there is
always this: www.adogabroadayear.wordpress.com

Rickie

"Call me Rickie" he tells us. We are finally on the bus that we will
ride to the hotel. "Anything you need, you tell me. Egypt is a great
country. Anything you need, you call me."

We careen through the streets. Four cars squeeze into two lanes, and
horns beep. The horns are not angry horns. Drives use them to say
hello, I'm taking over this lane, and this light is taking too long to
change so I'm coming through. People shrug off the sound. Donkeys and
their passengers move to the side and everyone negotiates their space.
If I hadn't ridden in cabs in China and Thailand the traffic might
have bothered me, but the rush and noise seem quite calm to me.

"Ahh." Rickie says. "We have crazy divers here. Egypt traffic مجنون (Mjnwn)"

"They just make the lanes too wide." Is Jerry's response.

Before I left Canada I read a bunch of books by Egyptian authors. One
of the book, The Yacobian Building involves the intertwined lives of
groups of people who live in a building. Some of the people live on
the roof. While reading it I understood that people lived on top of
the roof, but I never thought of how that would work. As we make our
way to the hotel I start to see it. The tops of some apartments have
rebar sticking out and loosely woven palm that provides shelter to the
people living there.

The official population of the city is 17 million. I can't see how
they could possibly count everyone here. As we were taking overpasses
and winding our way through the city I thought the apartment building
were not that high. Then I looked down and realized that the road we
were driving on was five floors above ground level.

Mosques, army headquarters, army mosque, football field, more mosques
and finally a bridge. My first sight of the Nile. It's almost 2am and
couples are crossing in groups, people are fishing, and crazy.... cars
are parked in the outside lanes. They pull up, stop, and everyone
climbs out and gazes at the water below.

When we finally get to the hotel I can see how security is an issue
here. Our bus pulls up to the parking lot. The driver identifies
himself and Rickie, and the the bus is sniffed at by a dog. Men with
guns eventually lower the steel pillars in the roadway and we drive
into the lot. Now we are just a metal detector and x-ray machine away
from bed. Man am I tired. I can barely appreciate the grounds.

"So. You need AnyThing you call me. I can find anything in this town.
You just tell me." Rickie smiles.

Blah. Blah. Blah. Princess's former castle. Visiting dignitaries.
Blah. Blah. Blah. Egyptian cotton and a feather pillow await.

www.adogabroadayear.wordpress.com for images

It's Sunday

Paris. Notre-Dame. Sunday.

It was amazing how amidst the tourists, the congregation and priest
managed to create a space that they saw as holy.

I came into the church and heard the sounds of hymns. The hymns in a
Catholic church are very different from the ones I grew up with. We
sang things like Jesus Loves Me, and This Little Light of Mine. My
hymns were kinda jr. faith meets new agey worship.

On this Sunday I heard the Psalms being sung in French. They made no
sense, but were comforting. The ritual and structure offered communion
(in the non-Eucharist sense) to those gathered and they shared it with
all of us watching.

Maybe it was comforting because I couldn't understand it...

This way people were joined together in a happiness I could feel, and
my mind didn't jump in and start to punch holes in their theories.

Unfortunately, to see the picture you will have to check out
www.adogabroadayear.wordpress.com

Customs. Check?

Meeting up with the family in the airport is not that difficult. There
are not that many, looks like they are going to be sunburned in about
a minute, groups milling about. And, they are watching the door for
me. We all think the first five minutes in the country is too early to
lose someone.

Jerry and Dad are in the "line-up" to get our visitors visas. It is
amazing how many people are trying to get paperwork processed at
midnight on a Sunday. Ten minutes of "elbows up" nudging and 15 US
dollars per person and we all now have shiny visa stickers to hand
over to customs.

"Keep moving to the end wall." A familiar voice floats out from a
black cloud. "The line ups move faster."

"Thanks." I smile and herd the family along to the wall. Here is where
you can see money making things easier for some. Small groups move
through customs with such ease I have to believe something other than
love passed between everyone when they were hugging, kissing, and
shaking hands.

There are no stanchions, velvet ropes for guiding, or even a clear
line up, but there are lots of men in white uniforms carrying machine
guns to prod stragglers in the right direction.

Passport control. Check.

Luggage. Check.

"Don't take your hands off your bag. And don't let anyone else touch
it or they will want money from you. Do you need cabs to your hotel?"
Posh spice asks.

"Nope. My sister the travel organizing Goddess has arranged for the
hotel shuttle to pick us up." Which is a relief. I'm not sure after
all the travelling I could handle the cabbie madness and heat I step
into outside the airport. As I dodge "helpful" outstretched hands I
turn to thank my new friend.

"تصبح على خير" she says. "And, wear sunscreen!"
--

You're Not In Canada Anymore!

After twenty hours of travelling, my plane is touching down in Egypt.

"Please stay in your seats until the plane comes to a complete stop"
the flight attendant calls out over the PA and repeats the request in
Arabic.

Tourists on the plane glance at each other and tug their seat belts to
reassure each other that she's not talking about us. The Locals ignore
the entreaties floating over the PA system and keep pulling out
carry-on bags and passing them back and forth across the aisles.
Travelling companions call out, identifying their suitcases, duty-free
bags, and coats, and wait for the standees to distribute the overhead
compartments holdings.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Please remain in your seats until the plane
comes to a complete stop and the Captain has turned off the seat belt
sign." The attendant repeats this, but seems resigned to the fact that
very few passengers are going to comply with this request.

The plane stops and the rest of us passengers stand and join the
chaos. Tentative smiles, yawns, and anxious glances pass amongst the
new standees. None of us know what to expect outside the plane.

I get closer to the door. The heat surprises me. It's 11.30 at night
and it is warmer than a summer's day in Vancouver. Sweating at
midnight...

This is one of the stop on the tarmac and take a bus to the terminal
landings. Like a polite Canadian I line up and make my way towards the
door. By the time I reach sight of the night sky, I have been
separated from my family. Hesitancy comes with a cost here.

"توقف" (twqf) a gun toting man in a white uniform shouts at me as I am
about to head down the stairs.

A hand reaches out from behind me and tugs on my t-shirt. "He wants us
to stop and wait here" A posh british accent attached to the hand
tells me. I turn to thank the woman translating for me. She sat near
me on the flight from London to Cairo. She was wearing upscale jeans
and t-shirt, but is now covered from head to toe in a black headscarf
and dress.

"I'm here to visit family." She says. "I wear this to please my
grandmother. It is easier than arguing with her." She smiles.

I helped butcher chickens to please my grandmother. I understand
compromising to keep the peace.

"You're going to need to be a little pushier if you're going to
survive in Cairo." She laughs.

Luxor

Was floating down the Nile today. A maz ing! Palm trees, donkeys,and
camels lined the shore. The crops, mostly corn and sugar cane were
sweating off the night mist and getting ready for the day. A farmer
started up a diesel engine and I thought for a minute that I was in
apocalypse now. The machine gun mounted on the bow of the ship helped
the war time image. It was six in the morning. Jet lag helps me become
an early riser.

Jer's thinks that the reason they once worshipped the sun is 'cause
you can't beat it.

T

--
treena and kootenay
adogabroadayear.blogspot.com

Luxor

Was floating down the Nile today. A maz ing! Palm trees, donkeys,and
camels lined the shore. The crops, mostly corn and sugar cane were
sweating off the night mist and getting ready for the day. A farmer
started up a diesel engine and I thought for a minute that I was in
apocalypse now. The machine gun mounted on the bow of the ship helped
the war time image. It was six in the morning. Jet lag helps me become
an early riser.

Jer's thinks that the reason they once worshipped the sun is 'cause
you can't beat it.

T

--
treena and kootenay
adogabroadayear.blogspot.com

We are alive

The internet is sketchy at best here. have seen amazing things.
pyramids, donkeys, teeming cities, camels, tombs... turns out we are
really in africa.

Jer figures they worship the god Ra of the sun because you can't beat him.

--
treena and kootenay
adogabroadayear.blogspot.com

Yahooo

Day one was exciting. Saw some bedazzled burkas, ate some amazing
breads, saw some ruins,and only a few were in museums. I am in love
with this amazing almond and powdered sugar pastry thing. The fruit is
so good. Had papaya, mango and bananas. Turns out a big bottomed white
girl can turn heads here. Had lots of kisses thrown my way.

Saw people fishing off a bridge. They were pulling fish out of the Nile river.

The traffic lines seem to be for decoration and losers.

--
treena and kootenay
adogabroadayear.blogspot.com

Egypt here I come!

For those of you keeping track here is the plan.

The first day will filled with the excitement and angst that comes
with travel. I will be checking my ticket once or twice or maybe even
a few thousand times. Oh and the plan is to remember the passport!!! I
will rest my head in Cairo this night.

Then after the first night in Cairo it is time for a coffee in Naguib
Mafouz's cafe and then off the see the city of Cairo. I'll head out to
see the Citadel, which was finished by Mohammed Ali (not the boxer).
His tomb is the next thing i see. And, there is nothing like a stop in
a few museums. Maybe there will be some Pharaonic treasures. Let me
know if you want me to pick up anything for you. King Tutankhamun is
hiding here and i intend to find him. I wonder if he will recognize me
from Expo? There is a light show that happens at the Pyramids. I want
to try and see it this night. It's like the dry grad version of Laser
Pink Floyd.

Now for day three, i am heading to Luxor, which is founded around the
site of Thebes. Look out Karnak the amazing i am coming to i plan to
see your temple. Rameses II 's statue, Hypostyle Hall, a stone
forest, and sphinx are all here. We'll see what i can check off.

Day four is time to hit the Nile. I will visit Dendara built in the
1st century. It honours Hathor the Goddess of maternity, love and
music. I guess i can get behind the music part. Apparently there is
one of the few likeness of Cleoatra and Ceasarian (Julius's kid) here.
The Temple of Luxor is not far from here. We'll see if i can get there
as well.

Next day i am off to see Thebes, which i will get to by floating along
the Nile. I anticipate handsome Egyptian men fanning me with palm
fronds as i journey along. I'll let you know what happens. I
anticipate picture opportunities as the Colossi of Memnon, two giant
seated figures of Amenhotep III is around here. Queen Hatshepsut a
female Pharaoh is also buried along here. There are rumours of camel
rides this day. This is where the hat will really pay off. The day
will end with the boat making its way through the Esna Lock and onto
Edfu. Phew. I am tired already.

Now what to do the next day. Well... the Temple of Horus is at Edfu
and is dedicated to the Falcom God. I guess i will have to see that.
Time to put on the galabea and hit Aswan for dinner. I hope to find a
Galabea party. Waaahoooo.

The next day there is a motor boat ride across the Nile to see the
complex of Isis on the island of Philae. There is a granite quarry,
the High Dam, and obeliks to gaze at. Aswan has some botanical gardens
so i hope to sail through them on a felucca this night.

This day i sail the Nile (just like saying that) to Kom Ombo to see
the Temple. It is dedicated to Horus the Elder and Sobek the Crocodile
headed God, which is amazing 'cause gods in those days did share
anything well, let alone a temple. The temple used to house
crocodiles. Hope we don't see any. There is a mummy on display here as
well. Guess the crocks did like the taste.

Ahhh. A day of rest. Sailing along the Nile i promise to take lots of
photos. And back to Luxor and then onto Cairo again.

On our last day in Cairo i hope to hit Memphis, see the stature of
Rameses II, Skkara to see the Step Pyramid of King Zoser (2700 BC),
see Gisa, Sphinx, and the Pyramids baby!

This day will be a travel day. After a final coffee in Cairo i am off
to Paris. Gay Paris here i come.

Once in Paris i am off the to train station. An overnight trip and I
will wake up in Nice. (That's pronounced niece you anglos).

The next few days are open and flexible. A day at the beach. A day in
Monaco. A day sipping red wine in the cafes. You get the idea.

Then i am on my way home. I will be happy to see everyone, but a bit
sad to be home....

Reader's Block

They are everything I love in books. They are translations. They offer up the promise of excitement and foreign destinations.

I love the feeling I get when I'm reading a book written originally in another language. Sometimes I can almost hear the echo of the original story.

So I started the trilogy Your Face Tomorrow by Javier Marias. And then I started it again. And again. And again.

I don't understand why they won't work for me.

Senselessness by Horacio Castellanos Moya. Loved it.

Ghosts, An Episode in the Life of A Landscape Painter, and How I Became a Nun by Cesar Aira. Fantastic.

War by Candlelight, and Lost City Radio by Daniel Alarcon. Great.

Roberto Bolano, Jose Saramago, Javier Sierra, Alina Bronsky, Elena Ferrante, Robin Yassin-Kassab, Mohammed Hanif to name a few others.

Books in Translation

More people need to read books in translation. Recently I recommended The Lost Daughter to a friend. She loved it.

The books is by Elena Farrante. She writes about motherhood and conflicted emotions surrounding children. Her prose is candid and challenging. The main character vacations by herself on the Ionian coast. With her daughters moving to Toronto with her ex-husband it is first time alone in years. She becomes engrossed in drama surrounding Nina, a young mother. Exploring the comfort and complications that come with family she dares you to like the main character despite her human frailties. If you can find it I recommend it.

Elena Farrante also wrote a great piece for the NYT. She tries to explain Naples to us. Enjoy.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/15/opinion/15ferrante.html?_r=1&scp=10&sq=ferrante&st=cse

So Soft

I love my new robe. It is brown, fuzzy and soft, soft, soft, soft. I think it is the softest thing I have ever owned.

When I first move out on my own I inherited a couch from friends. We called it the snuffaluffagus. It was big and soft and oh so comfy. The new robe makes me miss that couch a little.

But, we all have to grow. So the couch was passed down. My brother and his friends lived with it for many more years. It gave many weary partiers a place to crash, and was eventually retired from service all together.

I think of that couch each time I put on my new robe. The robe only gives one weary folk a comfy place to crash.

That's okay. Because I am the folk.

I love my new robe.

Sick

God. I've been sick for two weeks now. How much longer can this last. It started with allergies. Then it became a stuffy nose. From there it went into a cough, and then back to a stuffy nose and now it is finishing up with a cold sore and canker sore.

I haven't even had time to plan my dream home. It's odd. I can picture every part of it. The lights over the breakfast bar are so real to me. They are made by hanging three bulbs from the ceiling and then using fishing traps as shades. A little salute to Portugal.

Okay maybe I have invested some time in planning it this week. But, I haven't had time to check my lotto tickets to see if it can be something other than a just a wish.

Take to aspirin and call me in the morning.

Wow. After the big travel (as I am calling it now), I have come back to experience allergies. I don't understand how people live with them. Itchy eyes, runny nose, and sneezing are all new to me. I feel like a big baby.

To add to the pain, I now have a cold as well. It seems like every month I am catching some new bug. What happened to me while I was away? Perhaps I need to plan on travelling again. Because staying home is killing me.

hummm

It amazing how quickly time can pass. I have been back in Canada for a year and a half now, and have settled back into a routine that is dangerously close to the one I had before I left town. I get up in the morning, walk the dog, work the day, walk the dog, make dinner, clean up, watch a little tv and go to bed.

Gone are the hours of reading, walking, and writing that I enjoyed on my year off. I have come back to my old life and not made the dramatic life altering changes that I had hoped for.

I have written 70,000 words that could probably be a novel, but the self-doubt I carry about is making it difficult to put the work out into the world. But, if I don't put it out there I will stay exactly where I am.

Outdoor Water

If it is off the pool I want to have it raised. It would be great a few steps higher than the pool, so it doesn't feel like you are just sitting in the pool. I could turn on the jets, lie back, sip a glass of wine and enjoy the stars. And I wouldn't have to worry about the dog trying to get in with me. She would definitely jump in a pool, but she would never climb a step to get into warm swirly water. But, if it is too open and too far from the bedroom… well no naked tubbing.

But, if it is next to the bedroom, what do I do when I head to bed early and my guests use it. I would be tempted to eavesdrop. That rarely goes well. Don't want to overhear a list of my faults. (short list, but still it might hurt)

When I stayed with Ana and Carlos I loved their outdoor shower. It was not something you use often in Canada. Too cold most of the year. You would end up freezing bits off. A few times I would open my eyes from rinsing the soap from my hair and find the dog sitting inside the shower stall watching me rinse. It startled me at first. You don't often find a giant hairy white dog sitting in the shower stall watching you shower.

So I definitely need an outdoor shower as well as hot tub. Maybe the shower I off the bedroom patio and the hot tub stays down by the pool. Other than Kootenay I can't imagine very many people needing to shower on my patio. K only likes it until you try to shower her. The minute you aim the shower head at her she is off. Although when it is really warm, she like drink from any water you try to wash her with. So I guess while I get to use it, the shower will also be for the dog. I have hear people say "love me love my dog" this time it will be "shower for me shower for my dog".

Guess this all requires a bit more thought.

Warm Daze

The pool will be nice. I'm a bit concerned about the dog. She loves
water. She will jump in the pool. Whenever we get close to a beach she
runs to the water. She loves to lie in the waves and have the water
wash over her. She will even lie down in a puddle if it is deep
enough. Guess this mean a few hours of training for her and me. She
will need to learn to recognize the stair exit no matter from where
she enters the pool.

I want to have a ramp as well. If Steve comes to visit I want him to
be able to access the pool as well. He will need to be able to get a
wheelchair in and out. It won't be a true zero entry pool, but the
ramp will be wide enough to give him access.

The 25 meter width will be great for keeping in shape. I hope to swim
a number of laps each day before I write. The morning will be a nice
30 minute walk with the pooch, a few laps and then some tea and toast.
Then writing. Then if I am lucky it will be bread guy day. Some warm
rolls, a glass of wine, and a nice salad before tucking into the
latest book.

Amongst the chairs around the pool will be one that lies flat. It will
be where I read on sunny days. The dog will have her own bed beside
it. If she gets up on my chair it won't be long until it stinks of wet
dog so badly I won't want to be on it.

After a few hours of reading I will have to track down some friends to
meet for dinner. I don't want to send too much time alone. It is easy
for me to do. I can slip into a routine of eating, reading and walking
the dog very easily. It's not exactly the more people I meet the more
I love my dog, but….

--
treena and kootenay
adogabroadayear.blogspot.com

The Bathroom

I designed my dream bathroom today while I sat at our woefully underappreciated booth at the UBC Consumption fair. It seemed very few people were interested in the glamorous recycled products we brought. Luckily this gave me lots of time to dream.

It has slate 2X2 tiles on the floor and walls. The shower is a walk-in stall that has a rainfall head. It's a nice big head that showers down on you with a ton of pressure. My current shower has such low water pressure that asking the cream rinse to leave the strands of my hair would be as effective as the spout some days. The shower stall will have a bench and a steam set up as well, I believe. There's nothing like a eucalyptus steam to clean out the nasal passages.

And the tub, how beautiful it will be. Claw foot, with a white enamel finish inside and a Chinese lacquer red outside and it will be deep enough to drown in. None of this shallow can't even get the top of my knees wet crap I have right now. Nope there will be depth and there will be bubbles. A rack will lie across the top. I might put a candle in the rack when I have the night time bath.

Have I mentioned the in floor radiant heat? When I get out of the tub the floor will be warm. And the towel will come off the heated rack all toasty and absorbent, and they will smell of sunshine (the housekeeper will often air my laundry on a line in the sun). She will be a bit crusty, but loveable. This will be handy, because I often absorb people into my life so she will set boundaries for the both of us.

This will be my master en-suite, so I don't envision a door as being necessary. There won't be casual party-goers going it this space. If they end up here it will be by invitation only, and that is another reason for the big deep tub. Hehehe.

The sinks will be bowls that are set on a solid black abutment and the taps will come out of the wall. The small tiled ledge above the taps can hold the incidentals.

The toilet stall will be behind a small pony wall. It will be shaped in much the same way as the shower, but with softer lighting, and maybe a way to play a little music. You know, for the moments when you need a little extra distraction. Oh, and there will be a small trash bin there, with a bag liner in it. I was lectured by a boy one time because the garbage pail in the bathroom didn't have a bag in it and he couldn't decide how to dispose of a used piece of personal protective wear. Really we just had sex and you're going to lecture me on how I line the garbage pail….

The nicest feature of this room will be the fireplace with a flat screen tv mounted above it. This will be viewable from the tub. A woman cannot live with books alone, and damn I love watching movies in the tub.

And that is it. Oh, I will have to have an upholstered chair in there. The dog likes to hang out in the bathroom when I relax in the tub. Tile floor is hard on her old bones. Now, she drags my towel off the rack and lays on it if I forget to bring her bed into the room. And there is no way she is dragging my lovely large dove grey towel down and sleeping on them. Sorry K. I love ya, but I've gotta draw some boundaries.

Dreams

I love reading Harlequin Romance novels. I love that the couples always work out their troubles. They are completely at odds with what I normally read. Other than romance novels I don't like my fiction to have a happy ending. I like complicated, messy lives entwined by love and lies.

I could be happy if I could spend the rest of my time reading and writing romance novels. In my dream life I would spend six months in my home in Europe and six months in Canada. I would have a home in Vancouver as a base, but I could always spend my time back in Canada hopping from friend to friend. A few months with Treesa. Some time with Michael. Some time with Diane. Some time with Matt and Mel. And I could squeeze in time with Megan & Zach, and Bill and Jen.

I'm sure Kootenay would get used to the flights. She seems happy where ever we end up. Whether we are driving across BC or Alberta in the frozen winter, or flying across the ocean, she always is happy when we get where we are going. Although she is not very fond of the actual travel.

I can picture the house we would build for our European home. I can see the open plan living room, dining room, and kitchen. I can even see the lamps that I would build for over the island. And there would always be extra bedrooms for my friends and family.

I would sit out by the pool and write. I would need to plan on being somewhere the bread van would deliver to. When I stayed with my friends Ana and Carlos. The bread van would come by every other day. He would honk his horn and all the people home in the neighbourhood would come out and buy bread. The back of the truck was insulated so the bread would still be warm when he came by. It was the closest I have come to perfect relationship.

Now I just need a little stake to get this plan underway.

Another Start

How did I get so old?

I don't mean that in the classic, feel so bad for me I miss my youth, kind of way. To be honest there is not one part of me that wants to go backwards a year let alone a decade.

One day when I was a teen I stopped thinking of myself as ever aging. Maybe I stopped believing I could ever age. Tomorrow seemed so far away that everyday was measured just as another today.

Lately I have started to see that I'm getting older. The eyes don't focus quite as well. The body doesn't keep in shape as easily.

And, I realized that my mother was only six years older than I am now when she died. When I think of my mom I remember her as about thirty five. I can see how she dressed, what she read, and how she laughed. Although the only reason I can remember her laugh is because it is the same as my sister's laugh. If I close my eyes when Treesa laughs I can almost think it is Mom.

Must be getting close to that time of year. Oscar parties and sadness.

A New Cooking Plan

Eating better. It is not an easy task. This week I started a new routine. I have made up a menu, bought the appropriate groceries and am trying four new recipes.

All my old standbys are boring me. I can make a darn good panko crusted chicken breast. And my oven-roasted potatoes are fantastic.

One of the things I missed while travelling through Portugal was a variety of potato options. There were no baked potatoes with sour cream and chives and no garlic and lemon oven roasted nugget potatoes. Don't misunderstand they can rock the French fry and their olive oil over boiled potatoes was really nice, but I didn't realize how many different ways there are to get your starch in Canada.

So to start the new cooking plan I made chicken cutlets dredged in garlic and panko with a nice spicy honey lemon sauce. Yummy and apparently low in fat.

Tonight I made a grapefruit avocado salsa and served it on broiled herb crusted pork chops with a lovely jasmine rice sidedish.

Guess what I am having for lunch tomorrow. Ah leftovers. They are so much better than sandwiches.

let's test this out

well i am getting back to blogging. the only problem is that the email
address used for this account has expired. Unfortunately my memory of
my password has also gone. so i will test this note and see if it
comes thru. if it does get ready for some new entries.

--
treena and kootenay
adogabroadayear.blogspot.com