Rent-a-Cat

Ma Petite

"What will happen to Ma Petite and Le Puff when we leave? What will happen to me?" Those are the questions I found myself asking at Villas de Palermo this January. We always make friends with the locals when we travel. And by locals, I mean the local critters. 

At Flor de Sarta in Leon, Nicaragua, we met Bruno. Bruno would race, claws clicking, ears flapping, up to our balcony at night and lie down at our feet. He was simply devoted to me after I accidentally dropped a pat of butter on the floor. Bruno the dog. Of course, there was also Coq a Vin and Barbecue. The French owners of Flor de Sarta were unhappy with the taste of the local chicken. (I, on the other hand, think chicken in Central America is far superior to America's bland, tough and antibiotic riddled jail birds) So they decided to butcher their own. Instead, they fell in love with them. Now, Coq a Vin and Barbecue roam the courtyard, picking and pecking, along with a flock of pigeons and doves. 

Le Puff. A.K.A Puffy.

So when we met our new orange vacation pets, shown above, I gave them french names. In honor of our stay in Colonial, vibrant, gritty Leon. But of course, it had more to do with the french owners of Flor de Sarta. Mais oui. 

We also called them Little Orange and Puffy Orange. Eventually, it became puffy and petite. When the mood struck.  As you can see, they made themselves right at home. After we fed them, they were ours. They never left. Whenever we came home, their two little faces were staring back at us from outside our patio door. When we woke up, they were waiting for breakfast. After they ate, they made themselves right at home inside. Who ever stays there next will have two cats whether they want them or not. At one point, puffy brought in a dead dove and hid it under the sofa. But hunting wasn't puff's only joy, he also loved to curl up by my side while I was clacking the keys.

The ladies that cleaned the casa and the dude that walked by every morning watering, would point and say, "Gato." What ya gonna do? 

The first time we went to the restaurant at Villas de Palermo, we found an orange kitten mewling at our feet. Good grief! Our hearts can't take anymore!!! Orange is a theme at Villas de Palermo. There were orange cats here the first time we stayed three years ago, and they'll be orange cats long after we leave. 

I still think fondly of Caracol. Our beach companion in Panama last year. Caracol the dog. He followed us everywhere.

 

"How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard." 

-Winnie the Pooh

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Two Tears in a Bucket

Akua in a bucket.

We're planning a trip to Savannah next Summer,  and being an aspiring writer, the first thing I did was pick up a copy of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. I'd never read it. Even so, I knew it would be the perfect literary guide to the city - and a great beach side page turner to bring along on our travels to Nicaragua this winter. I wasn't disappointed! Needless to say, I'm sick of Flor de Cana rum. (not really) It's Nicaragua's holy water and I can't get enough. Nevertheless, I can't wait to sip a martini in Savannah while sitting on the bench and grave marker of the poet Conrad Aiken. Meanwhile, I'll watch a few ships pass by - their destinations mysteriously unknown. I won't mind making a toast to him and his ill fated parents, but I draw the line at giving his parents a suspicion. Anyone fool hardy enough to commit murder, then suicide, doesn't deserve a sip of my tasty beverage. 

The real life characters in the book were humorous and enchanting. Especially the drag queen nicknamed the Grand Empress of Savannah. She had a motto that I found irresistible. I told my husband about it and now it has entered into our language lexicon. Especially while on vacation in Nicaragua - life is slower there. Sometimes, the gringo faces certain challenges. First world problems to be exact. It's good to have a phrase to spout when times are tough - like when happy hour isn't observed as it should be. Or, when the breakfast that is supposed to start at 7, suddenly and unpredictably, starts at 8. Can you imagine? The worst thing possible happened on a Monday. We were on a gelato streak. We got dreamy, creamy gelato - the best in the world - every darn day...until Monday rolled around. Ever have a case of the Mondays? Well, I did. They were closed!  AAARRRGGGHHH!!! But I need my medium sized, half chocolate, half passion-fruit gelato. Finally, after much frumping and grumping, I decided that it wasn't the end of the world to wait for a pina colada later that day. For heaven's sake. Of course, times really are tough for most of the country. Many people still travel by horse; most people need to collect wood just to cook or heat water. Chicken dinner...where's the ax? Need milk? Hitch up old yellow. 

When the going gets rough, just think of Chablis. Drinking wine is a well known cure for the Mondays, but I mean the drag queen from Midnight in the garden of Good and Evil...

"Mama's different though. She has a big ol' photograph of me bein' crowned Miss World, and it's hangin' in her living room. She taught me not to worry about things that don't matter. She has a motto that I love: 'Two tears in a bucket. Motherfuck it.' That's  Mamma. She's a okay girl." 

The lady Chablis and John Berendt from Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.

Words to live by!

Awestruck

awe

noun

1. 1.

   a feeling of reverential respect mixed with fear or wonder.

   
   

Did you know that feeling awe may be the secret to health and happiness? 

"...new studies show that it's a dramatic feeling with the power to inspire, heal, change our thinking and bring people together."  Paula Spencer Scott, Parade

We've all felt it. 

That feeling of being struck dumb by something wonderful. We've all experienced, at one time or another, that compelling emotion of being paralyzed by something so beautiful, it tickles our very soul. Now scientists are discovering that this crave worthy emotion is a part of being human that we all need - not just crave.

5 times I was struck dumb:

1)  Watching my hero, my beloved Kahlesi, being rescued by Drogen, her dragon. It may not be real, but it was the most compelling drama I've ever witnessed on television - cable at its finest. Daenerys flies off, for the first time - flaxen hair flying - to safety. I love Game of Thrones! And the books are even better. George R.R. Martin is a genius.

Drogen and Daenerys

2)  Seeing my first cone shaped volcano in Costa Rica, burping fire. Nicaragua has 19 volcanoes and Guatemala has 37. Holy cow! They are a sight to see. 

Volcan Arenal in Costa Rica 

3) Riding the Transformers ride at Universal studios. The combination of 4-d is thrilling! And insanely real. Insider tip: Take advantage of the single rider line.

Transformers, Universal

4) My fist zipline - a whopper in Fortuna, Costa Rica. We flew 600 feet in the air. Gulp. And one line was a mile across. Yikes! It was like wobbling on the outside of a tiny (and out of control) mountain gondola in a James Bond movie, waiting to rescue a monkey. 

Sky Adventures in Fortuna, Costa Rica

5) Visiting the Mayan ruins of Xunantunich in Belize. We took an ancient (it sure seemed that way) ferry - pushed by a fellow with a big stick - across a wide jungle river. Then we stepped out into the past - awestruck by the architecture. There's nothing better than following the footsteps of old ghosts in a city that was covered with jungle and all but forgotten. 

Xunantunich, San Ignacio

Bring on the awe! 

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1. 
   

   
   

Thrill Me!

Thrill me. Scare me. Read me!

A few months ago I saved a Stallone quote. You never know when a sound bite of wisdom from Sly Stallone will come in handy. Old Sly was being interviewed, when he said something that cocked my ears like a curious cat. It was the kind of comment that was very self aware, humbling and funny. He was talking about when he wrapped his Southpaw around the role of Rambo. Iconic, right? Who else could play it? O.K., maybe Arnold or Bruce. These days, I'd pick Tom Hardy. Yum. 

Stallone said he was the 11th choice for the Rambo character. "They were just about to hire a chimp." he said. Good one Sly!

Well, at the same time, I was reading the wildly creative, The Dead Lands by Benjamin Percy. A dark, futuristic re-imagining of the Lewis and Clark adventure west. That's when I discovered that the local author was hawking a new book. A book of essays compiled to help authors put the thrill in their writing. Thrill Me is the title. The book also has an eye popping visual on the cover. See above. 

I've read a lot of books on the craft of writing. Benjamin Percy's was different. It was very generous and full great advice from a unique and humble perspective. Entertaining advice too. It was like getting the nasal flu shot. It inoculated you against bad writing with no pain. Plus, unlike the nasal mist, it really helps!

At the end of Thrill Me, Benjamin Percy talks about being inspired by Sylvestor Stallone. A.K.A, Rocky Balboa. Or Rambo if you prefer. "Go the distance," he tells his audience. 
In a nut shell, be like Rocky. Work, fight hard and don't give up. This is great advice for whatever challenge you are facing.

I love the Grrrrrr.

Benjamin Percy wrote Go the Distance in my book. Will I be able to do it? Will I be able to persevere the trials of publishing my novel, The Chorus of the Crows?

Well, I don't know. But then again, I did save that Stallone quote. I might have some fighting spirit in me.

Nature Traveler

"Over the years, I have found that travel allows me to discover personal priorities that are discernible only when the chatter of daily living melts away. And with this discovery, I can re-calibrate the basics of life; this is especially true when the travel is in nature."

Katherine Hanson
Special to the Star Tribune

Sedona, Arizona

I was inspired by the above snippet from an article in the Star Tribune, to wax poetic about travel. I guess I can relate to Katherine's feelings. Maybe you can too. Travel, especially nature travel, means the whole wide world to me. And I've only scratched the earth's varied and beautiful surface with a little stick. 

5 top chicken scratchings:

1) Hiking on a narrow path, 2,000 feet above the stunning Waipo Valley on the Big Island of Hawaii. Hugging the left. Because the drop off was an epic 2,000 foot vertical slide.

2) Swinging through trees like a monkey in Costa Rica. (tethered to a zip line mind you, since I can barely open a jar of pickles) 

3) Utilizing mountain roads in Central America no better than a lonely cow path. Is it a road if there are no other vehicles, no bridges over mountain streams and no other signs of life other than locals on horseback? I guess so. We made it.

4) Hiking to see the fury of Pele first hand, again, on the Big Island of Hawaii. There was a man ahead of us that literally brought a little stick. It was in his back pack. It turns out, he brought it with him for the sole purpose of sticking it to the lava. To watch it burn. 

5) My husband and I both agree, that our best night ever was in Granada, Nicaragua. It was our first night. New Year's Day. As we walked through the colonial city, we peeked inside home after home, witnessing elaborate Christmas shrines. It was so different than we decorate here. They really were shrines. Bright, festive and holy. Then, we had a marvelous steak dinner, serenaded by parrots and fortified with Flor de Cana rum. The best in the world if you ask me. Afterwards, we trolled around town, stopping at a towering old church. We were serenaded again, by hundreds of voices rising to the rafters in Christmas song. The acoustics were inspiring! Lastly, we picked up two Tonas (the local beer) and wandered back to our room. We sat on a warm balcony with the whole trip ahead of us, talking travel. Sigh. Memories. 

There's always some unforgettable memory on each and every trip. I could go on and on. Like this summer, while rounding a desolate turn on a dry, desert road of nothingness. Immediately, after rounding the bend, the scene turned to eye popping visuals of towering red rock country. In Sedona, Arizona. The landscape was lunar, like the leavings of a child's mud sculpture. Massive, martian and as seductive as a Georgia O'keefe painting. The only other experience that compares, so far, not talked about in 1-5, was heading down another windy road years before. This time, we were in Costa Rica. Our first trip. We rounded a turn and there, in the distance, sat a towering cone shaped volcano belching fire. We were hooked. Five trips later, the waves of Dominical beach draw us back with their perpetual siren song. The scarlet macaws of the Osa peninsula shriek from on high. And the pirate bar in the Dominical hills serves up our favorite burger with a side of rum!

I feel like travel is the fertilizer of life. It can turn nasty mental weeds into beautiful winter blooms. It nourishes the soul, sustaining it through the down times. It gives the traveler wings. 

When a trip is in my rear view mirror, photos are my favorite souvenirs. Thanks for looking.  

Happy travels!

P.S. Leave me a comment with your favorite travel memory.

Great Conversations...

"All stories are in conversation with other stories."
Neil Gaiman

 Behind the Beautiful Forevers was the first selection for a book club I attended briefly. It was hand picked by a member who has traveled to India and seen the beautiful and the antithesis first hand. Normally, I would never pick up a book like this. It's a harrowing non-fiction tale of the inhabitants of the Annawadi slum. Trust me. If it was fiction, it would be easier to absorb. Unfortunately, it is disturbingly true. But, that being said, it is beautifully written and enlightening. As an aspiring writer, I'll never forget how the author describes little yellow flowers as the open beaks of baby birds. Dazzling imagery. There is so much ingenuity in almost all of the characters. Like teenage Abdul. His talent is foraging for recyclables. He digs, sorts and scrapes together a meager existence for his entire family. In fact, exceeding their income far above others in their slum. And then there's Asha, clawing her way to the top by utilizing every means available to her. Rarely an honest mean is ever selected. In fact, Angela, from my book club, described honesty as a luxury in Annawadi. There's no truer statement. 

The most powerful character for me was Fatima the one leg. Her plight becomes a main plot point as the book progresses. 

You'll never forget the fighting spirit of these unforgettable, real life characters. 

 I'm just starting to admit to people that I'm writing a novel. After telling my cousin Jane about my story, she noticed definite similarities between my novel and the one she had just finished. So she handed me Ordinary Grace by William Kent Krueger and told me to read it. She said she could barely put it down. She said that for awhile, it had been her go to book for nocturnal reading sessions. So I dove right in. Research, right? During the day, mind you.

The voice of teenage Frank narrates the novel. He's the son of a Methodist minister. Unfortunately, the life of Frank and his family become awash in un-ordinary deaths. A literal laundry list of his neighbors and even sadder still, people much closer to him. The small town scene comes to life visually. The train takes off and doesn't stop. And the characters are real citizens of the time. My favorite character was Gus. He was living in the basement of the church across the street from the central family. And plenty of mischief ensues from that simple fact. There's a bonus for us Minnesotans too. It's set here.

 Being of devious mind, I guessed what the mystery revealed in the end. But it didn't matter. It was still a great book. 

Extraordinary. 

"Our son will be your son now." 

The diminutive sentence above is the heart and soul of the haunting book LaRose by Louise Erdrich. It is an affecting story of loss, love and the lore of a whole culture of people in North Dakota.

I learned about Native American life in the book. The good and the bad. The old and the new. There were so many well drawn characters. Like the wise beyond his years LaRose. The 5 year old boy at the center of the story. But there are many namesake LaRose's hanging from the family tree like beautiful wind songs. We meet all of them in the book. The mystical backstory of the first LaRose was my favorite part. 

The conflict occurs when Landreaux, LaRose's father, accidentally kills his neighbor's child while deer hunting. The lives of all of the central characters are subsequently torn apart.  Landreaux resorts to the old ways for guidance. He visits a sweat lodge and is compelled to give away his son, to make amends for the one he killed. 

I wish I would have purchased this book at our local Minneapolis book store, Birchbark Books, owned by the author. Because then I could have acquired a signed copy. It was so good.

Writing is magic, as much the water of life as any other creative art. The water is free. So drink. Stephen King 

The Waffle House Index

A patient dog, waiting for master, at a Naples, Florida Waffle House. 

An old favorite photo of mine.

Fear not fellow Americans. Well, let me clarify. Fear not fellow hungry Americans that live in the South. There is a new weather forecaster in town. In fact, as we count down to the inevitable,  futuristic nightmare of world Armageddon, look to the Waffle House as your guide for the end of days. 

The rest I gleaned from the internet. Enjoy...

Weathermen took to the airwaves Thursday declaring Hurricane Matthew historic, a storm like no other central Florida had seen, one that would rage and ravage. Millions along the East Coast were instructed to evacuate. Grocery store shelves emptied. Gasoline ran out. The Sunshine State’s governor said “this storm will kill you.”

To all tuning in, it was clear this storm was dangerous.

But some Floridians refused to accept the true gravity of Hurricane Matthew’s destructive spin until the South’s most reliable, authoritative voice spoke out.

“All Waffle House restaurants on 1-95 between Titusville, Fla. and Fort Pierce, Fla. are closed,” the restaurant tweeted Thursday afternoon. “Stay safe Waffle Nation!” The Washington Post

“ . . . if a Waffle House store is open and offering a full menu, the index is green. If it is open but serving from a limited menu, it’s yellow. When the location has been forced to close, the index is red.” Magazine EHS

One tweet summarized the reaction like this:

News: “Evacuate Florida”

Floridians: “Nah”

News: “Waffle House closed”

Floridians: “IT’S THE END OF DAYS!! F—— SAVE US BABY JESUS!!”

 Purpose of a Waffle House:

1) informally but decisively indicate whether the world is going to be destroyed by God's wrath,
2) waffles. Kaleb Horton

I love the Waffle House!