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December 31, 2009
December 30, 2009
Best of 2009: Welcome to Tanzania
In April, I arrived in Dar es Salaam after midnight and was driven to the Mediterraneo Hotel in darkness. I awoke to roosters crowing and stepped out of my room into paradise. The beach. The tropical flowers and trees. The old fishing boat bobbing in the water.
Flip-flopping down the garden path towards the restaurant—it has only one wall and some glass panels to keep the ocean breeze from carrying away your napkin—I was taking photos and scolding myself for my not-so-secret fear about equator-sized spiders and lizards and fleas when something fell from the branches above, landing just ahead of my big toe with a splat.
A wet, headless rat. Seemingly boneless, organless, as though it had been eaten from the inside out, all that remained was the furry wrapper, tail, and bulbous brain stem still attached to the body by a stringy spinal cord.
Not pictured.
Flip-flopping down the garden path towards the restaurant—it has only one wall and some glass panels to keep the ocean breeze from carrying away your napkin—I was taking photos and scolding myself for my not-so-secret fear about equator-sized spiders and lizards and fleas when something fell from the branches above, landing just ahead of my big toe with a splat.
A wet, headless rat. Seemingly boneless, organless, as though it had been eaten from the inside out, all that remained was the furry wrapper, tail, and bulbous brain stem still attached to the body by a stringy spinal cord.
Not pictured.
Best of 2009: The Midnight Garden
During my spring stopover in France, I spent about 36 hours in Narbonne visiting a friend and his two sons while the missus was out of town, and did nothing untoward, by the way, unless you count suggesting the boys wear buttons that say I Heart my New Mom. Just after I turned out the light, my friend knocked on the guest room door and ushered me down to the garden. “I heard something outside,” he said. “Whatever it was went into the bushes and I couldn’t rustle it out, so I stuck in my hand.”
Now see, this here is your proof of the nothing untoward. Genius STUCK HIS HAND IN THE BUSHES. He stuck his hand in the bushes BECAUSE he didn’t know what was there. Would I, with such a man?
And then: “I felt something prickly. So, I grabbed a towel from the laundry room to throw over it and dragged it into the light.”
Seriously, there is not one reasonable statement in that whole story.
The towel was lying on the ground over a small mound. About the size of a large, headless rat. He lifted the corner to reveal a hedgehog, curled up tight, playing dead. We could just make out its adorable little scrunched-up storybook face. And that, well, that was worth getting up for.
On an unrelated note, shaved truffles and mascarpone encased in brie and served on a baguette with a side of eggs will not in fact stop your heart. Not for dangerously long anyway. Fortunately, Genius served this for breakfast AFTER the hedgehog story, because I might with such a man. Yessir, I might.
Now see, this here is your proof of the nothing untoward. Genius STUCK HIS HAND IN THE BUSHES. He stuck his hand in the bushes BECAUSE he didn’t know what was there. Would I, with such a man?
And then: “I felt something prickly. So, I grabbed a towel from the laundry room to throw over it and dragged it into the light.”
Seriously, there is not one reasonable statement in that whole story.
The towel was lying on the ground over a small mound. About the size of a large, headless rat. He lifted the corner to reveal a hedgehog, curled up tight, playing dead. We could just make out its adorable little scrunched-up storybook face. And that, well, that was worth getting up for.
On an unrelated note, shaved truffles and mascarpone encased in brie and served on a baguette with a side of eggs will not in fact stop your heart. Not for dangerously long anyway. Fortunately, Genius served this for breakfast AFTER the hedgehog story, because I might with such a man. Yessir, I might.
France, meet Africa. Africa, meet France.
December 29, 2009
Best of 2009: Culture shock
After 28 hours of traveling, from Dar es Salaam to Toronto via Amsterdam, it was so lovely to see my friend Chad at the airport. He very kindly offered to take me to Tottenham to pick up Lucas from the kennel so I wouldn’t have to rent a car and drive through a haze of jet lag the next day. We just had to make one little stop on the way.
December 4: Gombe Stream National Park, Lake Tanganyika
December 13: Pro Bass Shop, Vaughan Mills
December 26, 2009
December 19, 2009
December 4, 2009
Aw crap
This week's horoscope:
Whether you are still madly looking for dangerous excitement and thrills with any and all strangers who cross your path, or you have had quite enough unpredictable reversals for one lifetime and would now prefer retiring by yourself to a spot deep in the forest where nobody can hurt or abandon you again, guess what. In the area of relationships, life has a few whopping surprises for you.
Whether you are still madly looking for dangerous excitement and thrills with any and all strangers who cross your path, or you have had quite enough unpredictable reversals for one lifetime and would now prefer retiring by yourself to a spot deep in the forest where nobody can hurt or abandon you again, guess what. In the area of relationships, life has a few whopping surprises for you.
December 3, 2009
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