It's All About the Beer

"He was a wise man who invented beer."

Plato, Greek Philosopher

I'm ticking right along with the Spanish lessons and I have to say I'm pretty damned impressed with this whole Pimsleur Language Program.  Each lesson builds on the one before, reinforcing the lesson before moving on and introducing new words and phrases.  It's not about grammar and conjugating verbs a la high school.  It's just about having a conversation in the real world. I do every lesson twice, just to get it really fixed in the old cranium.  And I don't do a lesson every day.  Sometimes there can be a week in between, during which I'm having Spanish conversations in my head.  Helps to keep me entertained on those long walks with the dog.

Now I don't know who this Pimsleur guy is but there's one thing I do know -- he sure must like his beer.  I'm at lesson 12 of 30 and after the initial pleasantries were dealt with it's been all about the beer.

How much is the beer?  I like beer.  Do you like beer?  I want beer.  I want to drink beer.  I can pay for the beer.  I can buy beer.  I can buy really cold beer.  If you don't like beer, why not?  Why don't you like beer?  Let's go drink some beer.  I can drink beer in a hotel.  I can drink beer in a restaurant.  Sometimes I even order something to eat with my beer.  And now that I can count to fifteen and add 100 to any of those numbers, well there's no limit to how much beer I can order.

Thankfully, I've also learned to ask, "Where's the bathroom?" 

   

Let the Training Begin

"Everywhere is within walking distance if you have the time."

Steven Wright, Comedian

Ay, there's the rub.

Time.  No matter how efficient or organized you are, no one gets more than 24 hours in a day.  Knock off a third of that for sleep, or lying in bed desperately wanting to sleep, and you're down to 16 hours.  Then there's all the daily gotta do's that don't seem to account for much time but add up by the end of the day.  Stuff like cooking and eating and showering.  Throw in the big stuff -- job, house, yard -- and that doesn't leave much time for the wanna do's like exercise, walking the dog, hobbies, reading, having a social life.  Top all this off with the time sucks, those huge wasters of our precious minutes that we all succumb to every single day.  You know what I'm talking about.  Yup...TV, Facebook, reading mindless blogs.  No wait, come back, I'll make it worth your while.

So into this mix I must find the time to get ready physically for my Camino. Luckily I'm mostly retired so that gives me back a pretty fair chunk of the day. And if I give up house cleaning and yard work then I'm pretty much the Queen of Time.  Sadly I can't do that (and let me tell you, it's not for lack of trying) so I've had to come up with a system so that I don't hit the Camino and have it hit me back.  The answer?  Multi-tasking.

Every day I need to walk the dog, exercise and run errands somewhere.  So I grab Gregory, leash up the pooch and head out -- to the library, the post office, boot camp.  Pretty much anywhere that doesn't take over three hours round trip.  But first I put a couple of 5 lb dumbbells in the pack.  I've learned a lot about weight distribution over the past few weeks.  Ten pounds at the bottom of the pack strains at the mid back just below the neck.  But layer those weights in other stuff (right now I'm using my uncompressed sleeping bag) and I barely notice I'm carrying it.

Next month I'll up the weight to 15 pounds.  Then 20 in July, 25 in August.  I figure by the time I leave with just my clothes and essentials my pack will feel like a feather and I'll be floating along the Camino.

For the first hour anyway.



   

My New Best Friend

His name is Gregory.  We've known each other for about a year now, been out together a few times.  Nothing serious, just casual.  But lately we've started spending more time together, getting to know each other.  I don't want this to be an every day thing, not just yet.  I know it'll get there, but we're dealing with the growing pains right now.

'Cause I gotta admit -- sometimes Gregory is a total pain in the neck.  A bit clingy.  To the point I just want to walk away, leave him at the side of the road.  I know I could never do that.  He really does have a lot of good qualities though sometimes I think he's just a little too fussy.  But who knows? Maybe I'll come to love those things about him.  I won't really know until we've spent some more time together.

And you know, the last time we went out he wasn't so bad.  He started off doing his usual thing, wound so tight and wanting to be close.  I finally had to tell him -- Look, loosen up or this just isn't going to work out.  And he listened...surprisingly.  We ended up having such a good time.  It was like we finally figured out how to be comfortable together.  That's a good thing.

'Cause we're in this for the long haul.


Book Review:  Reconstructing Amelia is a very well crafted mystery told from the points of view of a mother and her teenage daughter intermixed with texts, Facebook entries and blog postings.  Sometimes I have to put the cop part of me aside and try to overlook some of the stuff that is just not right.  Like handwriting analysis on a single word.  Yikes...doesn't work like that, folks.  But I know writers have to take these liberties to move the story forward.  Kimberly McCreight did a very nice job creating and taking the reader into the teenage mind and world.  All in all I enjoyed this book...except the epilogue.  The epilogue was lame.

What's that you say?  You want to see a picture of Gregory.  Okay, here he is. Good looking, isn't he?  Nice profile too.

 

It's Really Getting Real

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a cash advance."

Bumper Sticker

Sometimes you plan a thing for so long you never actually believe it will ever happen.  You pick a random date, say "this is when I'll do it" and then go about the business of your everyday life until one day that date is staring you in the face and you're like "OMG! it's actually happening!"

I just had my OMG day.  Walked into my travel agent, plunked down my credit card and booked my flight.  My stomach butterflies are in a flurry just thinking about it.  It's real now.  I'm really going to do this thing.

Oh I know what you're thinking -- "What's a travel agent?"  You know, they're those people that sit in offices with computers and book trips for people who don't have the confidence to do it themselves on line.  Yup, I still use a travel agent.  In my defence I've already done all the research at home, but I need someone else to hit the BOOK IT button.  I've tried to do it myself.  But my finger just hovers there over the return key, like there are opposing magnetized fields at work.  No matter how hard I try I just can't get my finger close to that button.  'Cause the way I figure it, if something goes horribly awry, if I've booked with a travel agent there is a real live person I can go back to, not some random cyberspace entity or a recorded voice on the phone telling me to press 1 and listen to the options, none of which apply to me.

Okay, I'm not a total old fart -- I once booked a cruise on line (but I was much younger then.)  And I will book hotels and other random shit.  Just not flights. I think it's called aerobiblioilektronikosphobia.  Or something like that.

I booked a return date even though I have no idea when I'll be finished my Camino.  And I may stay a few extra days somewhere, who knows?  I can always pay the penalty to change the date and it will still work out cheaper than booking two one way tickets.  One ways are stupid crazy expensive. Anyway, it's a done deal.

September 1st...just 114 days...

       

Picture Perfect

"If you want to be a better photographer, stand in front of more interesting stuff."

Jim Richardson, Photographer

I love a good quote, don't you?  Those words you wish you'd said yourself, that somehow managed to capture those vague bits of thought rattling about in your brain.

Before I went to Italy last year I picked up a new camera knowing I would want something very small and compact for the Camino.  Phone pics don't cut it for me, just not crisp enough.  Not that I'm taking great photos or anything, just something to capture a memory or two.  But I do like my memories to be in focus.  I know just enough to know that it's not all about the number of pixels anymore.  Settled on the Nikon Coolpix -- seemed the best bang for the buck for size and optical zoom.  And of course being cognizant of the fact that, "Buying a Nikon doesn't make you a photographer.  It makes you a Nikon owner." (Author Unknown)

Now the kid on the other hand needs an entire back pack to lug her gear about.  Tricky business getting on an airplane.  If she puts all her equipment in her camera backpack it weighs too much for carry on status.  She had to quickly learn the art of distribution between purse, pack and checked bag. Then it's cross your fingers and hope for the best.  With the best not being those luggage handlers caught throwing checked in cabin baggage down twenty feet into a bin.  Oh sorry, did you have breakables in there?

Seems all the trouble is worth it though.  I may be biased, no correction -- I know I'm biased -- but I think the kid got some pretty great shots whilst standing in front of interesting stuff in New Zealand.  In between final classes and assignments she's slowly posting her shots on her Facebook photography page.  She's allowing me to share a couple here, but I invite you to check out the others.  It's an open page so even if you're not on Facebook you can take a look. (https://www.facebook.com/kendalmariephotography?fref=ts)

Apparently owning a Nikon does make some people a photographer.

Book Review:  As a wannabe novelist (just for the record I have written one novel that remains sadly unpublished) sometimes I read books with not so much the story in mind, but the craft and the writing itself.  I found myself doing that with Always Watching, the third novel by Chevy Stevens.  Just what is it about her writing that elevates her books to best seller status?  I've read all three of her books and I'll be damned if I can figure it out.  They are interesting reads to me because she lives here on Vancouver Island and sets her stories in places I know.  This one deals with a psychiatrist battling her own childhood demons, lost memories triggered by a patient in her care.  Do I recommend it?  I gotta tell ya, I'm on the fence with this one.  But give it a read, let me know what you think.

  

The Power of Travel

Apparently my brain has been on hiatus...well, the writerly part of my brain anyway.  Time to fire it up again and see if anything comes out...

I've had a tune running through my head lately..."He just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich."  If you're of a certain age you'll remember that line from the song 'Down Under' off the debut album by Aussie band Men At Work.  Of course we had no idea what vegemite was back in '81 and no idea it could be purchased at the local grocery store.  I mean, why would we? Don't think anyone I knew ever had a hankering to spread left over brew's yeast extract on bread...until I met a guy from down under.  He actually had a craving for the stuff.  I may have tasted it.  Or I may just have looked at the tar-like paste and turned my nose up in disgust.

Thirty-three years later...

I'm living with a kid with a very limited palate.  "Try this, just taste it," was met with the aforementioned turned up nose, the pursed lips.  Yeah, parents, you know the look.  She'd forage through her food looking for anything that might be a bit of mushroom, a sliver of onion.  It's pretty damned amazing watching someone pick out every little bit of ground beef from a sauce.  She's not a vegetarian, she just doesn't particularly like meat.  Me:  "If you want to travel, you're going to have to learn to eat different things."  Her:  "Yeah, whatever."  So when she headed off to New Zealand I was secretly thinking, "Oh, you're gonna be soooo hungry."

But nineteen days after she walked out the door someone different walked back in.  She looks the same, walks the same, talks the same.  But something's changed.  It's subtle.  Maybe something only a mother would notice.  There's a little more confidence showing, a little more of the "I've got the world by the balls and there's no stopping me now" attitude.  And I mean that in a good way.  She walked back in having eaten lamb, fish, venison. And yes, even a vegemite sandwich.  Me:  "How was it?"  Her:  "The first half wasn't bad, then it got really disgusting."  "Me:  "Was there anything else to eat when you didn't finish it?"  Her:  "Oh, I finished it."  

Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?


Book Reviews...I've got a little catching up to do...

It really impresses me when an author can make me accept something that is just not in the realm of possibility.  Like Joe Hill did in his second novel, Horns.  Ig Perrish wakes up with devil horns growing out of his head which causes people to tell him all their deep dark secrets.  Okay, I'll buy that.  Not as good as his debut Heart-Shaped Box, some draggy bits, but overall a fine read...if you're the kind of reader who's willing to suspend belief for a little while.

Read two YA novels in a row, not because I read a lot of YA, they just happened to come in back to back at the library.  And as a testament to their popularity...The Perks of Being a Wallflower was published in 1999, The Fault in Our Stars in 2012 and I still waited months and months and months on the reserve list.  Both deal with teens dealing with real life and in the case of Fault, real death.  I highly recommend them.  But be warned:  both books are vampire free zones.