Happy Halloween 2011

There's no point in denying it: I LOVE Halloween. It is perhaps the only holiday that has no downside for kids--no endless meals or services, no sitting at the kids' table while the adults take forever to finish their turkey and get to the pies, no spending the whole month of December worrying if you were good enough to get cool presents.  True, you have to dress up, but you get to dress up weird and scary, not buttoned-up and pressed.  And you get to stay out late. And there's CANDY!!

Carving pumpkins is fun. And messy. And sometimes dangerous.

Adorable costumes.  

Which sometimes get handed down.

And sometimes foreshadow future careers.

And you never get too old to enjoy it.

So what could be bad?

HAPPY HALLOWEEN !

You might also like this: Good Kids in Five Easy Steps
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Sunday Haiku V

Scalding bitter brew,

Like memory, mellows with

Sugar, Cream and Time

Related posts: All Haiku

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These Are the Good Old Days

Ever notice that even photos taken just yesterday seem old when tinted sepia?  There's something that makes us look at a sepia photo and think nostalgically about a simpler time--"the good old days," right? Sheriff Taylor and Mayberry, grandmas who still baked pies and left them to cool on the windowsill (where they were sure to be stolen by hobos or naughty boys), general stores and hitching posts and every other cliche cadged from old movies and t.v. shows and Laura Ingalls Wilder books.


How funny that we are nostalgic for "good old days" that didn't even really happen.  And even if they had happened to real people, they didn't happen in sepia. Real people see in color.


However, it's generally accepted that dogs cannot distinguish color very well.  So, to all the dogs I saw walking in the park today, the world looks something like this:

  

The woods look like Huck Finn should be passing through any minute.

And the old Voelker homestead on Salado Creek might just as well belong to Auntie Em.

Maybe for dogs, it's always "the good old days." Cool.

You might also like: Sometimes it's Better to go Left

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Sibling Rivalry? Us?

It's hard for me to believe that these three have been siblings for well, 50+ years.

I can honestly tell you that, beyond a few truly trivial exchanges, the three of us never argued, fought, complained about each other to our parents, pushed, shoved, hit or swore at each other.  O.K., maybe one of us did scratch the other--once--but for pete's sake, I was five.  We didn't tease each other, either.  Although I have not forgotten the "Beaver" nickname bestowed on me when my two front teeth came in alarmingly large and menacing.


We shared. We didn't fuss if one of us got more of something than another one did.  Although some of us are still wondering about what kind of old-country grandparent math dictated that one of us was a "piece of diamond" who should get a whole cherry pie AND three vanilla cupcakes to himself, while the other two had to share three chocolate cupcakes between them. I'm not naming names, I'm just sayin'.


We didn't play mean tricks on each other, unless you count that one of us used to routinely take the other's allowance by making wagers...on the instant replay.  We never, ever tattled on one another, no matter how serious the infraction, or how difficult it was to look a perfectly good parent right in the eye and steadfastly maintain with Sergeant Schultz-like insistence that "I saw nothing, I know nothing." Thank goodness we didn't have Facebook then.


Essentially, we liked each other. And we still do. I originally intended to post a bunch of adorable buddy photos of my two boys, who are possibly even closer and more loyal than we are. But now I think I'll hold those for another day. 

Just so you know, this is what it looks like when you have three siblings and the parent holding the camera says, "C'mon, really LOOK at each other":

Related post: Good Kids in Five Easy Steps
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Read Around the World

I've been making my way around the planet for the last few years, and it has enhanced my life more than I ever expected.   But the truth is, I hadn't traveled much before then. I didn't even get my passport until I was nearly 40 (amazing, as my children have already had to renew theirs).

Among the places I haven't been yet : Argentina, Bolivia, Colombia, Denmark, Egypt, Fiji, Germany, Hungary (you see where I'm going here), Iceland, Japan, Korea (neither one), Latvia, Mozambique, Namibia (those red sand dunes!), Oman (the only "O" I could think of), Papua New Guinea, Qatar (don't especially want to go there, but can't be too choosy about Q's), Russia, Spain, Thailand, Uzbekistan ('cause it's fun to say), Vanuatu...o.k., enough of this.

Long before I traveled on planes, I traveled in books.  Since I can remember, books have been my drug of choice. And my favorite books are those that--like travel--transport me somewhere new: to another place, another time, another culture.  Unlike lots of people, I actually learned a lot of history and geography and meteorology and social studies in school,  but I've learned much, much more (and more enjoyably) curled up in a chair with a book in my lap. 


So, since we can't travel ALL the time, I want to suggest some books that will really transport you somewhere.  I'm only going to suggest ones that I have read myself and really, really like, so I don't know how long it will take us to Read Around the World, but here is my first in an undetermined series of recommended books:


The Power of One, by Bryce Courtenay, just might be my favorite novel, ever. Set in South Africa in the 1930's and 40's, the story's main character is an unusual and unusually likeable boy named Peekay, who negotiates a tricky early childhood, helped by a series of all-too-brief encounters with amazing characters who shape his life and then disappear. This is the kind of book that might keep you up late reading.  Trust me on this one: you will never forget the characters in this book--neither the very good ones nor the very, very bad ones. I couldn't recommend it more.


I almost never listen to audiobooks (short attention span, I guess), but a friend whose judgment I trust implicitly said he very much enjoyed the audio version.  Unfortunately, no Kindle edition yet.


(Required disclosure: Should you decide to take my word for it and purchase The Power of One through this link, my tiny commission will go straight to The Runaway Fund. Thank you!)

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I Love Penguins

These are not photos of me in Antarctica.

These are photos of me in the Antarctic Center in Christchurch, New Zealand, where you can experience a 9 minute indoor blizzard, complete with howling winds, "snow" and temperatures dipping below zero. Brrr.

This is as close as I've gotten to Antarctica--so far. Looking straight out from this vantage point on Mt. Victoria in Wellington, New Zealand, it is a mere 2,000 miles to the frozen continent.

But, here's the good part:

in only 70 days I will be there!

YAY!

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Dilemma #1

So, let me ask you:

How are you supposed to decide when it is time to "nip something in the bud," and when it is time to "not sweat the small stuff?"

Related Post: Good Kids in Five Easy Steps
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Sunday Haiku IV

Gently flowing stream

Trickling beneath green willows.

Sun warms the soft breeze.

Related posts: All Haiku


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Why I Sometimes Take the Bus

I run into lots of travelers who detest buses, and who have a particular disdain for tour buses.  They say that seeing an area through a bus window is worse than not seeing it at all.  They say that tour buses provide an "inauthentic experience."  You know the people who specialize in sneering at home? Well, they sneer when they're away, too. 


I totally disagree about the bus.  Don't get me wrong; I like to explore a new city on foot, or put on hiking boots and take a walk in the woods.  I'll happily travel by ferry or train. I really love to kayak or float on a river raft if I get the chance.  It's great to be outside, feeling the air and really soaking up the atmosphere of a new place.

But that doesn't mean I don't also like buses. Consider the advantages of riding a bus:

You don't have to drive, which means you don't have to figure out where to go, and you most likely won't get lost.  Also, you don't have to worry about driving on the "wrong" side of the road or getting a ticket. In the unlikely event of an accident, it's not your fault.


If there is traffic, or a detour, or mechanical trouble or a lashing rainstorm, it's not your problem.

You can close your eyes and take a nap, which is generally frowned upon when you are the driver.


You can get up and stretch. Or repack your backpack so you can find everything for once.

You can catch up on your reading or write in your journal or play with your iPad.


You can make friends and chit-chat if you want, or put on earbuds and pretend to sleep if you don't.

When you arrive at your destination, you have actually arrived.  You do not have to find or pay for parking. Or hunt for a gas station. Or check the tire pressure.


You can really see the scenery, or just look out the window and daydream about what your life would be like if you lived in the places you are traveling through.

Mostly, you don't have to do a damn thing but sit.


And you can take photos.  It's true that photos taken through tinted windows in a moving bus can be of questionable quality.  The sneerers wouldn't approve. But I kind of like the blurred effect of a landscape photo taken at highway speeds.

Of course, it helps when you have a photogenic country...Don't you love New Zealand?

Related Posts: Why I Choose the Window Seat
                          Got Your GPS Handy?
                          It's a Poor Craftswoman Who Blames her Tools

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So Much Time, So Little to Do

Did you break your New Year's resolutions? Do you ever put off 'till tomorrow what you could have done today?  Of course you do.  But it's not your fault.  Scientists have discovered that people are hard-wired to procrastinate, a trait which allowed early man to conserve his resources to deal with the harshness of prehistoric life.  In fact, the ability to diligently accomplish an endless series of tasks is actually the result of a genetic mutation most commonly found in people of low intelligence.  Unbelievable, right? Well, yes, because I just made that up.  But still.


Forget those resolutions--they are nothing more than a yearlong to-do list. In fact, forget your daily to-do lists, too.  They are unreasonable. Embrace your inner procrastinator.  Your chores will wait for you.  I promise you nobody is going to break into your house and do your laundry and clean the refrigerator while you're out having lunch with a girlfriend.

Be honest: you're not going to finish all that stuff. And even if you do, there will just be a whole new list tomorrow.  You'll still do the really important stuff most of the time.  And if you screw up occasionally, oh well, it was bound to happen sometime, list or no list.

If you MUST keep a daily list, try keeping a "have-done list."  Instead of starting your day with a page full of obligations that puts you behind before your feet even hit the floor, begin your day with a blank sheet of paper.  Then every time you do something, anything, write it on the list.  You will be amazed at how much you accomplish every day.

Consider.  Last Saturday I woke up, daydreamed for a while, and had a couple of imaginary conversations.  I brushed my teeth, got dressed and went outside for the newspaper. Brought the trashcans in. Made coffee. Made toast. Buttered the toast. Ate toast and drank coffee. Read the paper. Did the "Jumble." Washed breakfast dishes. Folded a load of clean towels. Went for a walk. Took a shower, washed my hair, put in contacts, applied makeup, dried my hair, gave up on my hair and put hair in a ponytail. Dressed, made my bed, checked e-mail and Facebook, watched a little t.v. and checked the smoke detectors (which was the only thing that would have been on my to-do list if I'd had one). Drove to Starbucks, ordered a Cafe Americano and wrote this piece.  My have-done list had more than 25 things on it already. And it was only 11:30 in the morning.  See?

Related posts: Simplify, Simplify
                         All I Want for Christmas is a Dumpster
                         Square Foot Limbo

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Some Great Gift Ideas

Oh, Neiman Marcus. Why do you have to do this to me every year? I'm trying so hard to stay serene.


In case you haven't seen, Neiman's 2011 Christmas Fantasy Gifts have been revealed, and again, they are ostentatious, ridiculous and outrageous.  But you know what? I'm tired of outrage. Outrage is exhausting.  


This year, I'm not going to get all worked up and point out that most people in the world live on just a few dollars a day. Or that they have limited or no access to adequate food, clean water or medical care. Or that many live each day in dread of violence and war.


No, instead I'll just give you a partial listing from the catalogue, which you can read and contemplate on your own.  Go ahead and get as agitated as you want.  Not me. I'm just going to go take some deep breaths and have a cookie.

A $395,000 Ferrari FF.  Actually 10 are available, and will be sold on a first-come, first-served basis.  Better hurry if you want one, because last year's $75,000 Camaros went like hotcakes--100 cars in 3 minutes. (It doesn't say, but I think the buyer must provide his own dog.)

A $250,000 speedboat with 23 karat gold leafing and a hand-crafted humidor (because no one wants an off the rack humidor).

A $45,000 black-rubber ping-pong table--oh, I'm sorry, "table tennis" table.

A $75,000 custom yurt for your backyard, complete with handmade pillows and a chandelier, installation included. You needn't worry if you are taller than the average Mongolian who lives in a yurt--this one is 12 feet tall at its center point.

A $125,000 bespoke (aka "custom") library for your home, including: carpet, objets d'art, prints and 250 books tailored to "your intellectual viewpoint."

A $1,000,000 water fountain for your home, by the folks who brought you the dancing fountains at the Bellagio in Las Vegas.  The buyer should be very pleased to know that a whopping $10,000 of the purchase price will be donated to Water, Inc. to support clean water and sanitation in developing countries.

So, what do you think? Should I have chocolate chip or oatmeal raisin?

By the way, here is the link to the catalogue:
Neiman Marcus Fantasy Gifts 2011


Here are some other links that might interest you as you search for gifts this holiday season:
Kiva
SmileTrain
Heifer International
Care
Doctors Without Borders

Related post: Around the World Every Thirty Days
                      Yep, There are Still Shantytowns in the 21st Century
                      Oh, Little Town of Bethlehem (Peru)


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Square Foot Limbo...

How low can you go?  I'm not sure.  I know I'm ready to downsize, but am not sure how much. When I'm cleaning or paying utility bills, the answer is "drastically." When there is even one more human in the house, the answer is "hmmmm."


A while back, I saw an internet article that piqued my imagination.  It seemed that a man named Jay Shafer lives in a house 89 square feet "large."  O.K., the title was "Tiny Houses," but even so, I assumed that was a typo.  389? 289? Even 189 seemed possible, but 89?

Sure enough, when I clicked on the link, I learned that he does and has been doing so for years.  He says that he "did not want to maintain a lot of unused or unusable space." In fact, Shafer says that he lives in houses smaller than some people's closets.  


Well, I have a nice-sized closet.  Not Oprah-sized or Sex in the City-sized, but way bigger than the closets I remember growing up.  So I measured it: a little less than 50 square feet.  As I said, a big closet, but could you have a whole house--with a place to sit, sleep, cook and bathe--in what would essentially be a two-story closet?  Apparently, yes.

XS-House (designed to be pulled by a car)

The Stamper

In fact, Shafer's company, Tiny Tumbleweed Houses, offers plans for lots and lots of tiny houses, including the XS-House at 65 square feet ("sleeps 1-2"), and the more typical Stamper model, which is a far more spacious 107 square feet.

These fascinated me, so much so that I when discovered another small-house builder in Luling, Texas (home of some the best barbeque in the state), I grabbed a friend and said, "Field Trip."  Sure enough, about an hour later, right on the side of the highway, we found Tiny Texas Houses, a neighborhood (?) of several teeny-tiny houses, built largely from salvaged materials. One of them, the Canyon Lake model, is 12'x20', more than double the size of the Stamper.

The Canyon Lake model

The houses include all the necessities--at least if you're mostly unspoiled and have a great imagination.  Turns out most people use these as studios or vacation cabins rather than as their main house.

Interesting idea, but I don't know. I'm not sure I can limbo that low.  I would probably have to go for something like the relatively monstrous Tumbleweeds' Z-glass model, a one-bedroom with 370 square feet.

Z-Glass (370 sq.ft)

Or I could go totally crazy and get the B-53, which comes in at a whopping 777 square feet and has two bedrooms.

The uninterestingly named B-53 (777 sq. ft)

Tell me,  how low could you go?

Related posts: Simplify, Simplify

                           All I Want for Christmas is a Dumpster

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I Didn't Exactly Embezzle...

but I definitely cheated the Runaway Fund last Saturday.  When I started this blog, I set up a bank account specifically to finance a yet-to-be-determined adventure.  I decided that I would deposit any kind of "found" money: I've sold gold, CDs, DVDs and old clothes.  I will deposit the commissions I earn when anyone buys from Amazon.com using the search box on this blog. (Hint, hint.) I even deposited the $20 from a grocery store gift card that I won as a door prize. 

No amount is too small, right?  Every penny counts, right?  That's what I was thinking. So when I weeded out a messy bookcase, and filled several crates with more than 100 hardbacks, best-sellers, cookbooks and classics, I took them to Half Price Books, a resale store that buys used books.

I had an uneasy feeling.  I remembered that I had tried this once before many, many, years ago, and had been so disgusted with the "offer" that I vowed I would never, ever do it again.  Well, like so many vows, this one was bound to be broken; I guess enough years had passed that I forgave Half Price Books and tried again.

This time I didn't take all of the books I had ready to sell; I reconnoitered with a single box-full. Unfortunately I didn't calculate the face value of the books, but I estimated it to be at least $400.  I knew from past experience that the offer would be low, and steeled myself for it, reminding myself that I was 1) clearing clutter, and 2) adding to my Runaway Fund.


So when they called my name, I went to the book-buying counter with a fairly good attitude.   The very nice clerk said that she could offer me $13.25 for the whole lot.  Or $3.00 for The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo alone, meaning that all the rest together would fetch me $10.00.


I smiled, said "thank you," repacked the box of books and took the whole thing to my book club and told the members to take whatever they wanted. I will not take the other boxes of books back to Half Price Books. I know that pride is a foolish indulgence, but I will give them away, donate them to the library or use them for kindling before going back to that store.  Or I will sell them for a quarter each at a garage sale.  Of course, I've vowed that I would never, ever have another garage sale.  


Uh-oh.


Related posts: The Runaway Fund
                           Simplify, Simplify
                         Whoo-hoo! The Runaway Train Gets a Boost


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Meet. Plan. Go.

Tasman Sea, New Zealand

If you've read much of this blog, it probably seems to you that I travel all the time. The truth is, I have only been dabbling at travel, and only for a few years.  Don't get me wrong, I have loved my big trips so far: to Botswana and Zambia, Rome, Athens, China, Peru, and New Zealand. Each of those trips changed me in ways I never expected, and if I never go anywhere again, I'll still feel incredibly lucky to have done what I've done.


But I am a dilettante at travel as well as everything else, like a hummingbird, dipping my beak for just a moment into lots of different flowers.  Since I have started writing about travel, I have discovered a whole sub-culture of what I call "real travelers," people who go around the world for a year or more, people who literally have "no fixed address," people who have chosen to leave their previous lives and just taken off to see the world.

Tented camp, Botswana with the two coolest people on the planet

And I'm not talking about just a few crazy souls--there are thousands of them, teaching English in Thailand, hiking the unhikable sections of the Great Wall, driving in a road rally all the way across Mongolia, spending not a day at Machu Picchu, but weeks on the Inca Trail.  And these aren't only "gap year" kids taking a break between high school and college or college and "the real world."  

Vatican City

Many adult professionals, it seems, are choosing to take what they call "career breaks," leaving the familiar and comfortable behind and jumping into the unknown, trusting that "it'll be o.k."  


I don't think I can call my traveling a "career break," as my professional life has already been much more break than career, but still the idea of escaping the ordinary resonates with me.  


I don't know that I'd have the courage or the inclination to become a true nomad, but I would like to try to travel for more than a week or two at a time, and be able to immerse myself in another culture or country long enough to really feel as if I know it.  Heck, maybe I'll even be able to practice my Spanish enough that I won't have to supplement even the easiest conversation with significant pantomime.

Along the Peruvian Amazon

So, tomorrow, I'm going to attend a meeting of Meet. Plan. Go., an organization entirely devoted to helping people design, plan and execute a career break to travel the world and even enhance their careers.  Meet. Plan.Go.'s website echoes the spirit of Steve Jobs' commencement address: our time here is too short to spend it living someone else's life.  We are conditioned to think we need to work steadily for 40 years or so and then, perhaps, pursue our dreams (if we are still healthy enough to do it).  But maybe it doesn't have to be that way. Not for me, anyway.  And not for you.

Freezing day on the Great Wall at Badaling

If any of this appeals to you, in even the most cursory way, take a look at these websites: No Vacation Required, Legal Nomads, The Travel Chica, yTravel Blog, Globo Treks, Otts World, Accelerated Stall, Nomadic Samuel and Technosyncratic Travel.  But be careful--reading these might make you want to join them!


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