Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Memories of a Mzungu

I am spending my Friday night watching the 1962 John Wayne movie Hatari!

Don't worry if you have no idea what I'm talking about. Five years ago, I had never heard of the movie and I went through a period in high school of watching a classic movie a week. I had watched more John Wayne films than I could name.

But then I went on safari in Tanzania and visited Tarangire NP. Everywhere around the entrance guard hut were signs about the movie being filmed there. Hatari means danger or caution. Baby Bro and I found it hilarious to yell "HATARI... THE MOVIE!" at each other for the rest of the trip.

We usually made this hand gesture as we yelled it...
although that was just coincidental.

Obviously, we had to watch the film when we returned home. Now it's my 'I miss Tanzania' film.

This round of nostalgia started when E and I ended up in Munro's Books in the language section. A Swahili book caught my attention and soon I was pontificating about how even a small knowledge of the language goes a long to increasing the willingness of the locals to help you and decreasing the opening quote on items in shops. I bored entertained E and the lady browsing down the aisle with stories which illustrated my point. (You're welcome for the travel tips, by the way, lady-who-kept-staring-at-me.)

The local mode of carrying goods.
The girl on the left is carrying an axe on her head.
Three days later, I found The White Masai on clearance for $5. Once I started reading, I couldn't stop. The writing isn't great and some of the decisions made by the author frustrated me to no end but the story just drew me. While the book is set in Kenya, the two countries are geographically similar and the bureaucracy is exactly the same. (A better term would be bribeaucracy.) As I read about Corinne's frustration with getting immigration papers sorted, I recalled how my low cut v-neck shirt got me a visa renewal when only a day earlier my scoop neck shirt was told it had to leave the country to renew my visa. (That's the power of the boobs, ladies!)

The beach at Kendwa, Northern Zanzibar

Memories I hadn't thought of in years came flooding back. The simple memories I don't pull out for dinner parties because there's no set story to entertain or inform those around me. Memories like the contentment of sitting on the shaded stoop of Susie's shop on a sunny day, drinking a coke baridi and chatting with the passersby I know. Or how looking at Mt. Meru as I left the baby home made the day complete.

The eastern wall of the Great Rift Valley. You can almost reach out and touch it.
I started dreaming in Swahili which is amazing because a) I haven't done that since five months after I came home and b) the only Swahili I remember when I'm awake is what I had to yell say to the children 18 times an hour - Stop it! Come here! No! Sit down! No hitting! Lunch/Dinner time! Go potty?, pretty standard toddler sentences - or basic greetings. In my dreams, however, I recalled a lot more. Although I'm more than willing to concede that most of the 'Swahili' I was dreaming in was probably my mind making up appropriate sounds. But there were a few actual words I was able to recall upon waking up.

The streets of Stone Town, empty during Ramadan.
Invigorated by these six relearned words, my Swahili hip hop* and Bongaflava downloads found their way back into my music rotation. Because obviously, if I'm dreaming in Swahili, I'm f*cking fluent! Baby Bro interviewed me for his paper on the education system in Tanzania while another friend invited me over for Ethiopian takeout and a movie set in Kenya (based on a true story... and you should totally watch it). The Amazing Race - the only reality show I would ever want to be on - headed to Tanzania and even went through a town I remember fondly, Mto wa Mbu (which is not what you'd expect someone to say about a town named 'river of mosquitos'. And for the record: mmm-toe wa mmm-boo). All these little reminders of Africa kept popping up.

Hard at work teaching me Swahili patty cake rhymes.

So here I sit with John Wayne humanely catching monkeys in the background while I stare at travel brochures for East Africa advertising trips I can't afford. Oh, to stand up in the jeep as it bumps its way down to the Ngorongoro Crater floor. To jump out of the dhow and wade ashore with my bag on my head as old fishermen fix their nets in the shade of the old Portuguese fort at Kilwa Kisiwani. To watch the sun set on cloudless Kilimanjaro as I eat dinner with Mama Musa, Hadija and the rest of the nannies. To barter with a stall keeper and then watch him charge the other tourists more because they don't greet him in Swahili.

To sit on the shaded stoop of Susie's shop on a sunny day, drinking a coke baridi and chatting with the passersby I know.


View from the ridge of Ngorongoro Crater after our game drive.


*The Hip Hop group I linked to, X Plastaz, is known because they rap in Swahili and Maa (the language of the Masai). The song I linked to doesn't have a video but it's the first X Plastaz song I ever heard and I love the use of the Masai throat singing in the background.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

How to Start a New Year

Realise you've had less than six hours sleep three days in a row so opt to be a good girl and stay in.

Make yourself a hot chocolate and Bailey's and settle in to watch the Doctor Who Series Six DVD you got for Christmas.

Decide that as you're taking things easy, you can stay up until midnight, just head to bed very quickly afterwards.

Be halfway through an episode (Let's Kill Hitler by the way) when the new year arrives. Laugh at your cats doing laps around the apartment every time a firecracker goes off.

Once the episode is over, start trolling the internet and find lots of Doctor Who themed pictures.

Yes. Yes, it is.
Well, it's mine at least.

Go to bed at 2AM.

Wake up at 7:30AM and curse the addictive hilariousness of Doctor Who fans.

Watch another Doctor Who episode while you potter about the house.

For the first time in the five years that you've thought about doing it, go to the Government House levée, arriving just in time to be the last person in the receiving line.

Sing 'Auld Lang Syne' with hundreds of other people and the pipe band before making your way to the patio to stare across the Juan de Fuca Straight to the snow capped Olympic Mountains. Remind yourself that you live in a pretty freaking beautiful part of the world.

Laugh as the Lieutenant-Governor 'pays the piper' and then cry while he gives his speech. (In this case, 'pay the piper' means to share a wee dram with the piper who led in the head party.)

Vow to make it to the levée in future years. Next time, drag people with you suggest your friends come along.

Write a couple of thoughts as to goals for 2012. Set them aside so you can sleep on them some more.

Go to your mom's for dinner. Receive an impromptu guitar lesson. Celebrate your older brother getting even older.

Curl up on your couch with your cats and watch another episode of Doctor Who before bed. Decided that this sentence will stay on your 2012 list of goals:

Best advice I've been given in a long time.

I hope you've all had a wonderful first 24 hours to 2012!

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Winding Down 2011

I'm just going to start this post by coming right out and saying it: Christmas was awesome. After a less than spectacular 2011 (Ireland trip aside because that rocked!), it's ending on a high note and that's really all I can ask for at this point. I had a fabulous two nights up in Nanaimo with my stepmom and Baby Bro, and then I had a wonderful Christmas Day with the rest of my family here in Victoria.

First and foremost, I got a guitar for Christmas! Well, my stepdad gave/loaned me one of his guitars, but the important thing is that I now have a guitar so I can learn to play. I even played my first song today, a very slow, laborious and painful heartfelt and emotional rendition of On Raglan Road. 


My version sounded exactly like that except guitar-only, much slower, with a plethora of mistakes and a voice that sounds nothing like Luke Kelly. But other than those tiny differences, exactly like that. It's not that I honestly expected the song to be any good right away but I just wanted to fumble through one song I'd like to learn so I know exactly how far I have to go. Answer? Pretty freakin' far at this point! It's also helped me set a goal for what will constitute #24 on my 101 in 1001 list as completed: participate in my local coffee shop's Open Mic. So simple and yet so freaking terrifying right now.

I also got Doctor Who Series Six on Blu-Ray!! Except I don't have a Blu-Ray player. ::sad trombone:: I had to do something I've never done before: I went to the mall on Boxing Day. Did you know that most stories won't do returns or exchanges on Boxing Day? Again, this was my first time ever going to a mall on Boxing Day. Lesson learned! At any rate, I now have DVDs which I can watch so, yeah, don't be surprised if I disappear for the next week...

As the year wraps up, I've been debating about whether or not I'm actually going to set resolutions or goals for 2012. To be honest, I set them every year... and then forget about them by February. Perhaps if I made them and put them in a place where I actually see them, I'd have more success. I know me and I know that I will do resolutions (although I prefer to call them goals) because I like making lists, but I'm also thinking I might just make them ridiculously simple this year. E.G. Don't leave house with curlers in your hair. (True story.)

While I was debating this topic yet again this afternoon, a friend shared this on facebook:


It reminded of a post on The Great Fitness Experiment earlier this year about a to-be list vs. a to-do list. I thought a lot about what would be on my to-be list at that time but then I got distracted by, oh, probably by my to-do list to be honest, and I never did get around to actually writing a to-be list. The six habits of happiness list overlapped a lot of my ideas for my to-be list and got me thinking about it again. So while I don't know if I'll formally set resolutions or goals, I will be writing a to-be list for 2012.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

CMC: Christmas Dinner

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

No Christmas Memory Challenge would be complete without memories of Christmas dinner. From the small dinners of just my immediate family, to the larger dinners of family and friends, to the insanely large dinners of the Alberta family, Christmas dinner is the apex of the holiday season. Turkey, stuffing, gravy, potatoes, vegetables you're not totally sure when they are because you just immediately smother them in gravy, and plate-licking deserts, Christmas dinner is just such a lovely meal.

But it's not just about the food. In this crazy, rush-rush world we live in, it's so lovely to take an afternoon (or even an entire day sometimes) to come together with loved ones and just enjoy their company. Whether you get stuck at the kids table where one of your cousins takes to yelling out everytime he hears someone fart (true story) or you're stuck in the middle of a political conversation regarding the current situtation in Northern Ireland and you're too young to understand half of it (also, a true story), it's an excuse to just sit and take two hours to enjoy one meal.

So, from my family to yours, I wish you a happy holiday season and I hope you enjoyed my memory challenge. And may you take two hours to enjoy your dinner tonight without political conversations about the current Euro zone economy crisis... even if your dinner is Chinese takeout for you and your cats. (Not surprisingly, that last part applies to at least two of you and you know who you are!)

Happy Holidays, Everyone!

Thursday, December 22, 2011

CMC: Christmas in Alberta

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

I've written about Christmas in Alberta before complete with pictures so I'm phoning in this post and instead I'm just going to say go here. Sorry, but there's Grandma's Molasses Cookies to bake today and a couple of other posts to get ready for the next three days when I plan to ignore the online world.

Monday, December 19, 2011

CMC: Canoeing on Thetis Lake

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

It started as a way to get us out of the house and out from underfoot while the dinner cooked. Decked out in Santa hats and carrying various bells, we'd strap our red canoe to the top of the car and make our way over to Thetis Lake (the closest lake to my dad's house).

We'd put the canoe in and paddle both the upper and lower lakes. Save for a few walkers we'd see from afar, we usually had the place to ourselves. When we did chance near enough the shore to speak with the walkers, we'd wish them a Merry Christmas and sing a carol as we parted ways. It never failed to elicit a smile from those we met. Then we'd stop in the middle of the lake and just enjoy the calm and silence... until one of us got antsy and we'd start shaking the bells and singing another carol.

Of course, our favourite year was when my dad got a little too excited about the bell shaking and sent our pole of bells flying into the lake and then almost tipped the canoe tyring to grab them before they sank to the bottom. We call that the jingle, jingle, oops! incident!

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Just Your Standard Rambling Post About Nothing

This post was supposed to go up Friday afternoon but my computer decided to be a complete twat. "Oh, you want me to open that link? Let me think about it... computer says no." So I decided that socializing with other humans was a better option than swearing at my computer. Take that, computer!

Then it was supposed to go up yesterday afternoon but my Internet decided to be a complete twat. "Oh, you want me to connect to the World Wide Web? Let me think about it... computer says no." So I went to the apartment Christmas party and unintentionally got drunk instead. Take that, liver!

Note to self: Eat dinner before going to the Christmas party next year because if you have as much fun as you did this year, you're not going to stick to your 30-minutes-chit-chat-back-for-dinner plan.

Part of the problem with not going up on Friday is that I missed the chance to talk about 'Wear Star Wars, Share Star Wars' Day on the actual day. Last September, Katie headed off to school with her Star Wars backpack. She got teased for liking Star Wars because it was just for boys. Her mom blogged about it, it was picked up by Epbot - a wonderful site for all geek girls - and it snowballed into a huge movement. Katie became the hero for legions of nerdy girls who had also been told they shouldn't like something because that's for boys.

'Wear Star Wars, Share Star Wars' is about more than just Star Wars, it's about showing your geek pride regardless of where your geek love lays. It's also to encourage people to donate a sci-fi themed toy to a local charity and make sure to specify that it's for boys and girls. It's about being proud about being a geek.


Just in time for WSTSST 2011, Jen at Epbot shared another story about a GGIT (Geek Girl In Training) getting teased. This time, Bryden dressed up as Spock for Halloween and was made fun of for dressing up as a boy. (Even one of the teachers made a remark about it which angers me to no end. A teacher should know better!) Once again, my heart went out to that little girl. And once again, the internet has proven what a wonderful place of support it can be! Go Geeks!

UPDATE: Um, awesome!
I found this BBC advert online Friday and shared it with facebook and twitter. Figure it's only right to share it here as well.


The natural world is such an amazing place, filled with so much wonder and beauty. It can be so easy, in our day-to-day lives to forget how fantastical the idea of life even is. All these plants and creatures that have evolved over millenia and adapted to their surrounds is no small feat and yet, here we are!* Something about this video must have kicked up all the dust in my apartment because something kept getting in my eye as I watched it.

Of course, I needed to remind myself that despite all that beauty, some people just don't like the world so I watched another episode of An Idiot Abroad. I stumbled across the show a few weeks ago and have been recommending it to anyone who will listen. The hilarity of watching Karl (who hates everything) travel to foreign places is just priceless. To get the most out of it, I'm limiting myself to two episodes a week. I tried to find a clip that summed the show up but ended up deciding instead to just share an advert for Series One. (Yes, they some how convinced him to do a Series Two.)


Christmas is in full swing around here. I've put up my one string of Christmas lights and I've blasted the Bing Crosby. Despite my love for Christmas, I don't do a whole lot in the way of decorations. Because the holidays are still mostly spent at my parents' places and I live on my own, I keep it pretty low key. (Also, we're not allowed real trees in our apartment building and I refuse to buy a fake one so...) At least I'm getting out to enjoy the festive season around me!

And on that note, I have to go shower and get out to enjoy the festive season around me!

*One of my biggest pet peeves about religious people's misunderstanding about those of us who are non-religious is that we can't appreciate God's work as it's all just science to us. It was realising that random happenstance of the interaction of molecular properties which brought us such beauty that helped me see how amazing this world is. When I still thought maybe it was just some guy in the sky, the world never was as amazing as I find it now.

Monday, December 12, 2011

CMC: The Movies

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

I never really got into the Christmas specials that most kids did. I have no nostalgic memories of watching Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer or Frosty the Snowman; I'll watch them when they're on TV but I don't search them out and I'm perfectly content not seeing them. There are, however, five movies that I have watched pretty much every year since I was four. It's a tradition my stepmom started and even when I lived in Germany/Switzerland, I found three of them on television at odd hours and made sure to watch them.

A Child's Christmas in Wales


This was my dad's contribution to the annual movie line up. The year that Denholm Elliot passed away, my dad decided to tell me while we were watching this film. The following year, he decided to tell me again that Denholm Elliot was still dead. Thanks, dad! Because I was expecting Denholm Elliot to be the epicentre of the zombie apocalypse. Of course, now my Baby Bro and I always finish the title by saying "he's dead, you know!" which we think is hilarious... even if no one else does.

Miracle on 34th Street (1947)


We watch the Black and White version because we're traditionalists in our family. At least, when it comes to films.

It's a Wonderful Life


'Nuff said.

A Christmas Carol


First, I just need to comment "a spirited portrayal as Marley." BWAHAHAHAHA! Spirited!!! HAHAHAHA!

While I have seen plenty of adaptations, the 1951 one with Alistair Sims (again, not colourized) is my favourite. I have watched this film (in fact, all these films) at least 25 times. I am 31 years old. The scene when he can hear the bells ring turns me back into a terrified 4 year old. To the best of our ability, we try to watch this one as close to Christmas Eve as we can.

Note: The film was released in the UK as A Christmas Carol and in the States as Scrooge. It wasn't until we got the DVD about six years ago that we knew it had two names. I will always call it A Christmas Carol.

White Christmas


Is the movie really just a chance to showcase the talents of the four stars with a somewhat simplistic storyline and schmaltzy love story? Yes. Does it contain some fabulous songs and great dance numbers? Does it make me ridiculously happy? Yes. So really, it's a giant film of win.

And because this scene used to make me laugh so hard I'd snort (I don't anymore because I'm a lady... well, I'm an adult), here's a bonus video!

Saturday, December 10, 2011

CMC: Carolling

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.
Once a holiday season, my dad would bundle us all up and take us around the neighbourhood for a round of carolling. We lived in a semi-rural area with lots of small farms or very large lots so we knew pretty much everyone within walking distance from our house. Occasionally, we'd hook Rowdy the donkey up to the trap* and use him to get from house to house.

We'd always sing two songs: one my dad would chose as we walked up the driveway, and We Wish You a Merry Christmas. We probably sounded more akin to a group of drunken frat boys than those professional carolling groups that roam the malls each Christmas, but it was always a fun night out and the recipients always had smiles on their faces (if they weren't joining in with the singing).

Over the years, the area around us became fairly developed and many of our neighbours moved away, looking for the semi-rural life they were used to, while my brothers and I got older. Wasn't high school hard enough without being that uncool kid who went carolling with his or her parents? Now my dad just waits until we're all together and makes us sing to the neighbours over the phone.

Hmm, some thing's a little lost in the updated tradition.

*type of carriage, not some cruel animal-killing device

Friday, December 2, 2011

CMC: Tree cutting

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

I was very lucky growing up because my dad's property was surrounded by a forest. I grew up thinking it was normal to climb trees in the back yard, make daisy chains in a field, watch deer walk past your window, and have donkey for a lawn mower. While I realise now this wasn't the 'normal' childhood most people had, it was pretty awesome. It also meant that come Christmas time, we'd hike into the forest and cut down our own tree.

My dad would scout for trees while he walked around the property so that come cutting day we knew exactly where to go. My dad, my brothers and I would get the chainsaw and flashlights and head out around dusk. It was a big deal when I was finally old enough to use the chainsaw myself! Once we returned to the house with our tree we'd take off any branches which didn't look right and do a final trim on the bottom with the hand saw.

The next step was to get the tree up in the living room. Normally, this is a simple task except by dad didn't have a tree stand for the first 15 years of my life. We'd place the tree in an ice cream bucket, cram rocks around the base of it, and then use fishing wire and a staple gun to attach it to the walls and the ceiling. That's right, ceiling.

We'd then enjoy a hot beverage before we commenced with the tree decorations. When we were young, that meant hot chocolate. As we got older, we usually put something a little strong in our cups!

Once us kids moved out, we stopped cutting down our own tree. While there is some ease in just showing up, paying some money, and walking out with a perfect tree, I miss the excitement and adventure (and alcohol) of getting our own tree by hand.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

The Final Countdown

While Al spent the final Friday taking a guided tour of Bru na Boinne and the Boyne Valley, I spent it catching up with family. I know I've said this before but I have a lot of family in Ireland. I could have spent the entire three weeks just seeing family and I probably still would have missed someone. Still, I'll take as many family meet-ups as I can get especially now that some of my cousins have kids and they say adorable things like "hi-ya!" when I walk through the door. Seriously, nothing cuter than a 19 month old with a Dub accent saying 'hi-ya'!

Saturday was run-around-buy-souvenirs-take-pictures day. Despite some very nasty rain clouds hanging about, we lucked out and managed to stay dry for our final day. It was a welcome change to the weather we had been having. We started the day by wandering O'Connell St on the north side of the Liffey. The street is named after Daniel O'Connell so it's only best that he stands prominently at the south end.

I think Ireland personified is telling you who to complain to if you have a problem.
It's that man, up there, above her. Complain to him!

O'Connell St is probably best known for being the location of the General Post Office (GPO).

The pillars are still pockmarked from the 1916 Rising. History nerd here finds that kinda cool!

The GPO acted as the headquarters during the Easter Rising of 1916. In the early hours of Monday, April 24th, members of the Irish Republican Brotherhood, the Civilian Army, and the Irish Volunteers seized various buildings around Dublin* (most of which they felt were signs of British oppression), after which Padraig Pearse read out the Proclamation of the Irish Republic from the GPO where two rebels flags had replaced the Union Jack.

After six days of fighting, the inside of the GPO was almost completely destroyed and the men stationed there, including five of the signatories on the proclamation, surrendered unconditionally to British troops. It would be another 24 hours before the rising was completely put down. The leaders were taken to Kilmainham Gaol, found guilty of treason and executed.

One of the things I love most about the Irish is their wit. If you put up a monument to anything, they'll have a nickname for it before the paint is dry. The prick with the stick, the hags with the bags, and the fluzzie in the jacuzzi are all nicknames Dubs have giving to various statues around town. My personal favourite is the the tart with cart, better known as Molly Malone.

Just one nickname won't do. Molly's also known as the flirt with the skirt,
the dish with the fish, and a couple of other nicknames as well.

For the first time in a long while, I had new nicknames to learn thanks to this guy:


Ladies and gentlemen, meet the stiletto in the ghetto, the stiffy by the Liffey, the nail in the Pale, the erection at the intersection, the, well, that's probably enough. The official name has something to do with light... I don't know, I didn't actually pay attention to that part, I just wanted to hear the nicknames! It seemed like everyone I talked to had another one to add to the list. Oh Dublin, I hope you never change.

Try as I might, I couldn't get all my family visits over and done before the Saturday night. We had to be up at 5:00am and a night out wasn't really what I wanted. Still, sometimes that's just the way the cookie crumbles. I had missed meeting up with my uncle in Armagh so he was coming down** to see me on my last night. There's not way to excuse yourself from that, is there?

Al and I had dinner with uncles Lorcan and Kevin and aunt Betty before doing a night time tour of Dalkey. The tour was part of a "let's see who's home" (answer: no one) which then turned into a "Bono lives there, Enya lives there, Neil Jordan lives there, Van Morrison lives there" drive. Of course, we had to stop at the beach by the Canadian ambassador's house and take a picture. That's just the patriotic thing to do!

Oh flash, why do you wash us out so?

Our evening ended with a drive up into the Wicklow Mts. I was sad that I never made it to the area during the day because it really is lovely but these things happen sometimes. We started the night at Johnny Fox's and all it's "traditional pub" touristy glory (although the stuff on the walls does make me laugh) before we moved onto The Blue Light. If you can get to it, definitely check out the Blue Light. Live music, amazing views over Dublin, friendly patrons, and incredibly relaxed. My kind of pub!

This is just proof that I can't take my uncles anywhere!
Look at all the Guinness Kevin wasted!

As much as I had hoped to avoid a Saturday night send off, I couldn't think of a better way to say good bye to Ireland. We told stories, made jokes, laughed until we cried, sang songs, and reminisced. The end of the night came too soon. We rounded ourselves up and headed out to the car. The next day, Al and I would be up before sunrise; we'd pass through Dublin in the dark and half asleep; we'd watch the sun come up as we ate breakfast on the top level of the airport; and we'd watch Ireland slip beneath the plane as we flew to Amsterdam, but our last real memory of Dublin was on that Saturday night.


*It should be noted that they were not successful in capturing all the buildings they went after.

**I wrote that he was coming 'down' because geographically looking at a map, Armagh is north of Dublin, hence, down. If you are ever in Ireland, it is important to know that everything is down from Dublin. We're going down to Donegal for the weekend. We're going down to Monaghan for the night. We're going down to Mayo in a fortnight. You do 'go up to the North' but if you're specifying where in the north, then it's down again. We're going down to Derry next week. Obviously, if everywhere is 'down' from Dublin, then everyone else comes up to Dublin for a visit so when I was talking with my uncle on the phone, he said that he was coming up to Dublin. I giggled because that will never stop being funny to me.

CMC: Grandma's Molasses Cookies

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas.

You know that Christmas is coming when my mom and I start to plan when we can make Grandma’s Molasses Cookies. The cookies are legendary in our family and with our friends. I can’t tell you how many Christmas potlucks I’ve brought a plate of cookies to only to find them completely cleaned out before the other guests have arrived. We double the recipe and the process becomes an all-day event with my mom making the dough in the morning so it can chill before I get there. When I arrive, we put on a spot of tea in grandma’s silver tea pot, throw on Johnny Mathis* and then we start our assembly line of baking. Roll, cut, bake, cool, ice, decorate, taste test, repeat.


I can not image the Christmas season without these cookies. On the years when my mom is away over the holiday season, I pull out her recipe card and make these by myself. They're good but never as good as when we make them together!

*trust me, I'll be talking more about him later

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Christmas Memory Challenge

Hello, my name is Andrea. I'm an atheist and I love Christmas. I shouldn't love it as much as I do given that it's a religious holiday (or at least, once upon a time it was) but it just makes me so frakkin' happy. I'm one of the biggest Christmas-aholics that I know. Despite this, I have two things that bother me about it:
  1. People who start decorating prior to December 1st
  2. When people are more concerned with gifts than the hanging out with loved ones
In my 31 years of celebrating Christmas, none of my important memories have anything to do with the gifts I received. I'm not going to pull a holier-than-thou-I-don't-need-gifts attitude because who doesn't like free things (assuming free things don't involve follow-up trips to the clinic and a round penicillin)? But at the end of the day, what I love most about Christmas has very little to do with the material aspect of it. So imagine my frustration when I start reading blogs in November which not only discuss Christmas* but also list items they'd their readers might like for Christmas. It made me stabby.**

Instead of travelling to various locations and stabbing people, I set myself a challenge: I will post 25 Christmas memories which will have nothing to do with gifts. You're all smart people, so I'm guessing you've already figured out that this will mean daily posts from the 1st to the 25th. If you're a blogger and what to join in, let me know. I'll gladly link to anyone else who wants to highlight the non-material side of Christmas.

I know that not all my readers are Christmas people but please note that some of the posts will be about alcohol. Surely that's got to count for something, right? And again, atheist writing here so God/Jesus talk will be kept to a minimum... and will usually involved alcohol ;-)

*I'm all for craft blogs talking about Christmas in November because they're giving you ideas which you can use in December. Any other blogs doing it can kiss my mistletoe'd butt.

**This is totally not a Christmas gift suggestion link. Although the shirt is pretty awesome so I wouldn't turn it down if you did get it for me.

Monday, October 31, 2011

Going Coastal on You!

In our original travel plans, Al and I were going to head to Belfast bright and early so we could have the better part of the day there. We’d arrive by 10:30 and then we could count it as a full day. In our original travel plans, however, we failed to account for the step-aunts wanting to do morning coffee. We finally boarded a bus in Dungannon at 11:45. If you’re keeping track and home, that’s 3.5 hours later than we anticipated. Our day in Belfast turned into an afternoon. And what a wet miserable afternoon it was!

After a wrong turn out of the bus station which almost led to us walking into Falls Rd/Shankill Rd area (which is where a lot of the troubles in Belfast were centred), we found our hostel, ditched our bags and phoned the first Black Taxi cab tour listed in our guide. The voice on the other end of the phone said he’d pick us up in 15 minutes. It was the only thing that went according to schedule that day!

Our guide, Ken Harper, was fabulous. Friendly, knowledgeable and hilarious, he kept us entertained from beginning to end. We got on well with him and our 1 hour tour actually ended up being 1.5 hours as he threw in a quick go around the city centre as well. I wish I had more pictures to share, but the rain was bucketing down on and off throughout our ride meaning a lot of the picture opportunities found Al and I just sitting in the cab because even rolling down the window for a decent shot just wasn’t worth it.

This is the part of the peace line that people sign. Ken offered us a pen; Al and I just laughed.
We could barely see the wall from the car it was raining so hard!

The rain did stop long enough for us to see the hooded gunman mural. The mural has been the centre of a lot of controversy over the years (Really? A hooded man pointing a gun in mural form in an area affected by violence has garnered controversy? No way!), but I was mostly interested in it because the gun apparently follows you as you walk.


Unfortunately when we got back in the car and drove to the other side, the rains had started up again, but I can say that the gun most definitely follows you. It’s very creepy. I know it’s just a painting but dude, it’s a gun and it follows you! There is no way I could walk past that at night!

I have a strange relationship with Belfast; I want to like it, I want to think it’s a great city, I want to believe I should encourage people to go there but I always come away feeling let down. It’s not a friendly city. I know that has a lot to do with its past and that people tend to keep much more to themselves compared to the rest of Ireland (even compared to the rest of the North), but it makes it hard for me to say that Belfast was awesome. It’s definitely worth a visit, I'm just not convinced it's worth a stay.

Still, my cousins who live there seem to love it.

We spent the night hanging out with my aunt and uncle. I chose not to stay with my aunt because she’s never been in great health and she had just had surgery on her cataracts a week before we arrived. I figured she didn’t need the stress of two girls staying with her. Well, I obviously thought wrong because all I got all night was a good old Irish-Catholic guilt trip about not staying with them. “It’s a pity you’re in a hostel when we have all these empty rooms.” “How much money would you have saved by staying with us?” “You come all the way from Canada and you don’t even stay with family.” And the parting shot as we left, “it would have been lovely to have spent more time with you, but I guess we should get you back to the hostel.”

She! Just! Had! Surgery!

Still, she poured the stiffest drink I’ve ever seen. My glass was half rum, half 7-Up! Maybe we should have stayed with her...

The next day was our tour along the Antrim Coast to Bushmills (where we’d jump off the bus and then public transit it to Derry, everyone else got driven back to Belfast). We had booked the tour on a whim the day before. We originally planned to get to Giant’s Causeway on our own but when we saw the tour company across the street from the hostel, we decided to see if it was feasible to only go the one way. Not only was it feasible, but it turned out to be one of the best decisions we made on the entire trip.

The day looked like it was going to be a washout as the rains started up as we departed Belfast. For our first stop in Carrickfergus, only half of us got off the bus to take pictures. By the time we had left Carrickfergus the sun was out. While the occasional shower would continue to show up during the course of the trip, that was the only really bad rain.

Our guide, a quick-witted Scot named Tom, had us all in stitches with his stories about the area. He had married a local girl and it was clear that he had fallen just as much in love with the country and he had with her. Of course, he still pointed out Scotland across the water every chance he got!

Driving the coast road

Stopping for a break in Carnlough

Of course, the upside to the weather was that we got a lot of rainbows.


Being on the tour meant that we stopped at Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge, something we wouldn’t have done on public transit. The 1.5km walk out to the bridge afforded us lovely views out to Rathlin Island.

That's Rathlin Island on the horizon.

Our first view of the bridge.

Once we got to the bridge, I had to pep Al up a bit. She’s not big on heights and what all these pictures fail to show is how incredibly windy it was that day.

Half-way across just before a huge gust of wind.

Al did cross and I can’t begin to explain how happy I was that she did. Even with all my ‘can do’ bravado about the bridge I had a moment of panic halfway across when a huge gust of wind started the bridge swaying. The words ‘I hate you’ may have escaped Al’s lips after we reached the other side.

That's the fishing hut which was the reason the bridge
was first put up between the island and the mainland.

After we walked to the far side of the tiny island and snapped a few pictures, we crossed back. I half expected Al to kiss the ground once we were back across but she managed to refrain herself... probably only until I wasn’t looking.

That v-shaped gap is where the bridge is.

We've crossed the bridge, Al's still smiling and she hasn't killed me.
If our friendship can survive this, it can survive anything!

The next big stop on our trip was Giant’s Causeway. When asked if the Giant's Causeway was worth seeing, Samuel Johnson one quipped, "worth seeing, yes; but not worth going to see." As Tom kindly pointed out, Johnson also travelled three days to see the Causeway so his opinion is to be taken with a grain of salt.
I'm willing to be that Johnson didn't have views of rainbows on his walk to the Causeway.

We opted to walk down to the Causeway and save ourselves the £1 and the views were worth the saved money. (Although we totally paid the £1 to take the bus back up from the Causeway.)

The Ulster Way follows much of this part of the coast.
I can't help but think what a spectacular hike it would be!


Science would have us believe that the Causeway was the result of volcanic activity and the subsequent cooling of the resulting molten basalt millions of years ago. As the basalt cooled unevenly, geometric shapes formed where the cooled areas pushed against each other. This is all a very fascinating explanation but as Tom so kindly pointed out, do you see any volcanoes in the area? No.


Legend has it that Fionn mac Cumhaill (pronounced Finn MacCool), a giant who once roamed the Irish countryside, had a beef with a giant in Scotland. After tossing insults and threats back and forth, Fionn decided enough was enough and it was time to settle the argument. He built the Causeway so the other giant, who couldn’t swim, could cross the water and the two could duke it out. Except when he got his first glimpse of the other giant, the other giant ended up being much bigger than Finn had anticipated and Finn realised he was going to lose the fight.


Fionn ran home to his wife and told her of the problem. Unbeknown to Fionn, she devised a plan. After giving Fionn a potion so he’d fall asleep, she swaddled him up like a baby. She invited the other giant in, explaining that Fionn was off working but should be home soon. When the other giant saw the baby, he figured ‘if that’s the baby, how big is his father?’ and he ran back to Scotland, smashing the Causeway as he went so that Fionn couldn’t follow him.


Doesn’t that sound a lot more plausible than volcanoes in Ireland? ;)

We finished up the day with a quick trip to Bushmills and Dunluce Castle before Tom stopped traffic to flag down our bus to Coleraine. There’s nothing really special about it except that Tom went above and beyond to get us on that bus and because we had to run, we didn’t really get a chance to thank him. Also, he's a huge Game of Thrones fan and when he found out that I was as well, he pointed out all the filming locations that we passed. All in all, he was a great tour guide and if you’re in that neck of the woods and looking for an Antrim Coast tour, I would whole-heartedly, without any hesitation, recommend getting on a tour with Tom who works for Ben Allen Tours. Seriously, the man was incredible. (Ben was a gas as well and I wish we could have chatted longer. He was cracking Al and I up.)

From Coleraine, we hopped the train to Derry. For the most part, we tried to avoid the train as it was usually very expensive unless you book well in advance but the trip from Coleraine to Derry was supposed to be spectacular as it followed the coast of Lough Foyle. It did not disappoint.

Came out of a tunnel to this view. That's Co. Donegal across the Lough.

We pulled into Derry just as the sun was setting. After a bit to eat, a quick pint, and a bit of traditional music, we called it a day and headed off to bed.

Note about the links to businesses in this post: Neither of the businesses I've linked to knew that I would be writing about them and/or linking to them. I've linked to them because I was really happy with the service they provided to a nobody. Please note that I don't even recommend the safari company I went with in Tanzania because it's owned by a friend and I don't feel comfortable sending people to him when I know that my fabulous experience was based on already having a pre-established friendship with the guide, so when I recommend these businesses, I really, really mean it.

Friday, October 28, 2011

From Dublin Culture to Culchie Culture


Obviously, the morning after a pub crawl requires one thing and one thing only: coffee. Copious, copious amounts of coffee. And who can resist when it comes in an awesome to-go cup?

Noted!
And I want these cups in Victoria.


Due to most Irish museums being closed on Mondays, our Tuesday ended up being very, very heavy on the education-front so we started with a wander through Trinity College. What better way to get our learning on than wandering through the hallowed halls of higher learning... hungover?

Perhaps I should have checked out Careers Week while we were there.

Trinity is actually part of the Pub Crawl given that so many of the writers attended school there, but it was nice to come back during the day and actually see it. Like many European universities, it's located right in the heart of Dublin and is open to just wander through the campus.


We did not bother with the Book of Kells at my suggestion. I had done the Book once before and just found it a waste of money when you consider you only get about 10 seconds to view one page of the book. The displays leading up to the Book are interesting but for the low, low price of free you can visit the Cheaster Beatty Library with books just as old and the National Museum of Ireland: Archeology and History* which has even older artifacts and bog men! That's right, BOG MEN! Four of them!

After we finished our coffees, we hit up both the Chester Beatty and NMI:A&H. Sadly, you can't take pictures inside either of them but they were both awesome. Both could easily be an entire day on their own if you're geeky enough (I totally am. Al, not so much) but two hours at either one should be more than enough time to get your fill.

A school group was leaving as we arrived at the NMI:A&H... Best. Timing. EVER!

We had an early night on Tuesday due to an early morning on Wednesday. Wednesday was when our adventure really began with a trip to the rip-roaring craziness which is Monaghan! Monaghan, of course, is where my culchie family comes from. (Culchie was originally a derogatory term for people from the country--ie. not Dublin--but there's been a bit of a reclaim on for the word. I'm doing my part to show those Jackeens that words can't hurt us!) There's not much family left there now but I always make sure I stop in to say hello to the town which I always remember fondly. Thank goodness Armagh isn't that far away so it's not usually a problem.

Perhaps not surprisingly, this is exactly how I remember Monaghan's main street.

Every trip to Monaghan involves a visit to the cemetery where granny and granddad are buried.



This is followed by a trip to the Cathedral.

 
Many a Sunday of my childhood was spent here

After I dragged Al on a whole 15 minute tour of downtown Monaghan (you think I exaggerate but I really don't. We walked the whole length of Monaghan in less than 30 minutes and that included stopping for photos), we said good bye to my uncle (and his inability to hear us) and jumped on a bus to Armagh.

Ten minutes outside of Armagh the skies opened and thundered down. Even though it stopped as quickly as it started, we kind of lost our appetite for actually seeing Armagh and instead just checked out a pub until the appointed pick up time. Hey, look at that! I sat in a pub just like I did the last time I was in Armagh!

My usual Armagh contact was out of town so stayed with the step-side of my family in Blackwater Town. I challenge you to pull out an atlas and find it on a map. No cheating and using goggle maps! To be honest, we didn't even stay in Blackwater Town. We kept driving, crossed into Co. Tyrone and spent the night in the middle of nowhere.

Apparently the middle of nowhere has an intersection!

The rains held off long enough for Al I to go for a walk around the neighbourhood farms and meet the local cows.





Shortly after I made friends with this horse, the rains returned and we had to make a beeline back home. Still, who can complain about a little rain when you're staying in a location other tourists would pay top dollar for? 

Question: Ever stayed somewhere so small and/or remote on your holidays that it's not in the guidebook? What brought you to that location?

*There are four NMI locations with different themes. They're all free and they're all worth checking out. The National Gallery and the National Library are also worth checking out but when you have limited time, you have to pick and choose :(