Compound Living – Balinesian Style


I’m back on land finally – and living the Bali Life Style. And today was a cool lesson in the reality of Bali living for locals.

Diane – our 46 year old Male driver – lives in a compound with 49 of his nearest and dearest relatives. And lucky me – today I finally scored a tour!

I’ve been dying to see the inside of his compound since it was pointed out to me – the highly carved stone front gate is easily the nicest on our block – and if you peek in past the highly useful ramp that covers 1/2 the front steps and provides easy access to motor scooters – you can spot a gold and gilt covered prayer statue. So i was pretty hyped to go in – but afraid to ask. Thank goodness Diane must have read my vibes – he asked me first.

Compounds are family owned plots of land – often seriously huge so that they can harbor several generations of extended family. Effectively – these are villages within a village – providing housing for brothers, sisters, husbands and wifes, cousins and their children. Male children stay in the family compound, female children must leave to follow their husbands family. All things being equal – and baring either a sudden lack of interest in having kids, or a mini family unit that decides to have a dozen kids, the number of people living in the compound is generally stable. About the same number of births and folks leaving the compound either thru death or marriage means that the optimum number is about the realistic number – 50.

Interestingly – Diane doesn’t remember when his family got the compound – he was ‘born’ into it – and even when he was young – it had been in his family ‘a long time’.

But on to the nitty gritty of Diane’s compound. Starting at the gate – to the left is first the house of a cousin, and then the ‘big’ house – the home of the clan senior. in Diane’s case – this is his older brother – the one born first. How to spot the ‘big house’? Glit on the door frames and window edging of course!

Opposite the houses is the kitchen. Diane tells me that there is basically one kitchen for every living space – no communal cooking unless it’s a feast or festival day. I got a quick peek – stove top (no oven), fridge, sink, prep areas. Basic and functional.

Just near the ‘big’ house are two key parts of every family compound in Bali, and Diane tells me that everyone lives in a family compound. Key component 1 – a space for ceremonies. In Diane’s compound, this is a raised tiled open on 3 sides roofed area that contained just a large wooden table. This space serves as a funderal hall should a member of the family die, a wedding chapel is someone gets married – etc. you get the picture. Bodies lie in state till the next day if they died after lunch, and get buried in teh afternoon if they died in the morning. Next to that is the family compound temple.

This is the most interesting part of the compound to my mind. Apparently all compounds must have a temple – and once you realize that is what you are looking at – sure enough you can spot one in every compound. This enclosed space houses the most important spirtual elements of the home – the houses for the different members of the divine family. And in the north-east corner stands the link between this family temple and the major temple in all of Bali – situated at the foot of Mount Argung.

The entrance to the temple area is a set of raised steps – Diane tells me that this is to remind family members that you are entering a unique and special space. Found in the temple grounds is a larger platform that Diane tells me is used by the priest if there is a cermoney to be held at the temple. There is also a chair – and that holds the holy relic that is stored in a locked cabinet in one of the prayer houses. I know this because one of the prayer houses had a locked door – and I asked why.

Now that I know to look for these family sized temples – it’s easy to spot them. Often they are on the roof of a family home that is multiple floors, sometimes they are hiddlen in the middle of a compound, and sometimes they take up valuable space right along side the entrance gate.

The rest of the compound held a series of resting tables – large open air decks that had thached roofs and now walls, along with a brother’s batick making business in one area and his neices painting efforts in another. There’s a garden area – unplanted in the case of Diane’s family, and at the far end is a house that Diane’s brother has decided to rent out to paying guests. There are also ‘garages’ for the always present mo-peds and motor scycles.

Enough with the noisy inspection – Diane and I quickly gather our stuff and head out for a day of touring.

Signing off – The Soup Lady.

Life on a Live-aboard in Komodo National Park, Indonesia


I would SO be voted off this island. Not that I’m either surprised or upset – mostly just wish things could be different. But it’s the risk you take traveling alone – no friend to cover your back!

But I’d be here again in a shot anyway – so I guess it’s not that bad an island.

Ok – The Mangguana is an Indonesian style live-aboard dive boat. That means there’s no dive platform – you dive off dingys that take you to the dive site, and then in theory the boat circles around for an hour waiting for someone to surface. Must be boring – and hot – and rather dull – but I guess the kids that do this make a living – and that makes it worth doing. The Mangguana itself has 4 ‘guest’ cabins – each of which has 2 bunk beds, a bathroom (sort of), a sink, and an all important Air Conditioner. You definitely need AC in this climate – that’s even with the breeze.

The bathroom has to be experienced to be believed – It consists of a shower and a toilet – no seperation. And only a shower curtain to separate the bathroom from the bedroom part. So you can sit on the toilet to shower – or just stand and shower. If you do either – use the towel to dry the seat – or you are going to be wet bummed for the day! On the good news front – the shower works fine, and they supply shampoo. So getting rid of the salt water – a natural result of doing an hour long scuba dive – isn’t a challenge.

There are 2 main areas of the boat that are for guest use – in the front is the ‘dive preperation’ area – benches, boxes for gear, places to hang wetsuits. On the upper deck behind the steering house is a huge covered area that serves 5 or 6 times a day as a feeding ground. There’s a giant wooden table – 8 chairs, a fridge for holding drinks (free except the beer – $2,50 each on an honor system), a serving area for misc. food – coffee, tea, sugar, plates, silverware, 2 boxes of cereal (yum), a toaster – and the all important fish books. What’s a dive boat without fish books. They could seriously use a better library though – a reef creatures book would have been so great.

There’s no segregated photo table – so photographers wouldn’t be in love with this boat – and the toilet would definitely disaude my husband from being here – but I’m a happy camper.

There are 6 divers on board – and 8 staff. 2 dive masters one of which I think doubles as captain, the chef, the waiters, the prep cook, the guys who drive the 2 tenders, and then miscellaneous people who appear and disappear without much guest contact. I’m guessing they fill the tanks, clean the dishes, keep the boat ship-shape. I’m not even sure where all of these folks are living – although the below deck portion of the boat must be huge – it’s completely off limits to the likes of us. There’s also the portion directly under the open area living space – maybe that has crew quarters, although I’m guessing it might be the kitchen from the delicious smells.

Ok – so on to why I’d be voted off.

6 guests – to protect the innocent – I’m giving them fake names.

There’s SC – Stalwart Canadian. He’s a Montrealer, formerly helping businesses set up ERP systems – who gave up his job and decided to scuba dive until he ran out of money. This boat is just one stop on his extended trip. He’s actually also my room mate – and a better room mate you couldn’t get. He’s so quiet – yes, even asleep – I often don’t even know he’s in the room. And he’s neat – his clothes are carefully put away – and his bed is MADE. And he’s a good diver. Practically Perfect in every way.

There’s the German – he’s an extremely experienced diver – over 800 dives – and he probably the nicest person among the guests. I don’t know much about him, other than he comes from a small village near Stuttgart – and like me is on a limited time holiday. Although his is not only including this dive boat – it’s including 4 days at this incredible diving resort in the park. I later found out that he’s 52 (surprising that), has a girlfriend who doesn’t care to dive (how sad), and works in a company that makes Headlights for BMW among others.

There are the Sisters – 2 gals from Switzerland – one of whom is a dive instructor. They find me annoying – to say the least – but hey – they are young, beautiful – and there are no eligible guys on board. Must be hard on them. They spent the last week at the above mentioned fancy resort – and now they are here. Great figures, awesome bikini’s, perfect tans – They have been there – seen that – and as far as I can tell find the dives ok – but not great. It’s hard to tell for sure, they tend to sleep or read when they are not eating or diving. But then – so do I.

The last member of our group is the Vegetarian. She’s from Amsterdam – owns a flat there – but seems to not call Amsterdam home. Her mom is Indonesian – and she grew up here in the Island – I’m not sure what she does to afford diving – but she’s tall, thin, wears a different bikini every 3 or 4 hours – and she’s the reason I’m bunking in with the Canadian.

I arrived first at the dive shop in Laboun Bajo – but they had problems fitting me into a wet suit. They had to order one from a different shop – that one too didn’t fit – so a third was ordered. Bottom line – I ended up going to the boat last. By the time I boarded the boat – each guy had taken a cabin, the sisters had a cabin, and the Vegetarian had a cabin. The crew suggested that we share – being both girls and all – but she made a fuss. “I was promised my own cabin – I need my personal space.” Well, don’t we all dear.

But – color me flexible – I don’t mind sharing with a guy – and the SC said he was ok with it too. So we are room mates. And as I said before – he’s the best room mate ever. I literally never see him in the room – I go to bed before he finishes drinking beer at night – and he’s been gone before I’ve gotten up every morning. How he can brush his teeth in silence is a mystery. I even asked him this AM if he slept in our room! (Yes – he did).

Diving is always done in a buddy team. So – the Sisters are one team, surprisingly SC and the Vegtarian (who is actually not nearly as bad as she first appeared) is a 2nd team, the German is paired with one dive master, and I’m paired with the other. When we get in the tenders – everyone gets into one tender – except me and Denny – my dive master/buddy. This is not a bad deal – doing every dive one on one with someone who loves pointing out the fishes, the nudibranches, the reef animals – and can find pgymy sea horses – is never going to be a mistake. But it does mean a lack of comradery with the rest of the guests – hence my certainity that I’d be voted off!

Ok – enough about the boat and my fellow divers – It’s time for out 8th dive of the trip – and it’s only day 2.

Got to go suit up!

Signing off – The Soup Lady

Why Travel Makes Me Nervous


I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately – and despite my nervous nelly concerns – here I am on another airplane.

This time I’m heading for Labuan Bajo – the sailing off point for trips to the Komodo National Park. I’m hoping that all will go well, that the folks from Komodo diving (long story – but not the folks I reserved with) will meet me at the airport as planned, that the weather will be great, the boat lovely, the diving spectacular. Sigh – so many things can go wrong of course.

But here’s what seems to be bothering me about travel – particularly travel by myself by airplane. I don’t get nearly as worked up about car trips – but then one can always abort those trips.

So – what can go wrong – you can have problems deciding what to pack, you can discover when you arrive that you didn’t pack the right things, you can have issues at security, you can have problems with your ticket, the flight can be delayed or canceled, you can get lost getting to the airport, you can arrive too late to check in, your luggage can get delayed/never arrive, your window seat can be ‘window-less’, there can be no food on the flight, the bathrooms on the plane might not be working, or you can be refused at immigration (this I have to say has only happened to me once – and they didn’t refuse me – they just made me find my Yellow Fever card in South Africa). To Continue – the people you intend to meet at your destination might not be there, might be delayed, might not recognize you. You can run out of money, not have the right money for your destination (I once arrived in one country – with only the currency of another – really hard to get a cup of coffee. This used to happen really often in Europe before the Euro – I’m all for the Euro.)

Such a complex puzzle – and so many things that can go wrong. No wonder I get nervous. I’m kinda surprised I continue to travel.

But here I am – on my own – flying on Garuda Indonesia Airlines – headed for a place who’s name I can not pronouce, being met (hopefully) by people I don’t know.

Man – sometimes I even surprise myself.

Ok – my diving trip plans – and what can go wrong, will go wrong – just rarely as expected!

Once I’d agreed to come to Bali (awesome decision BTW), and started to do research on my destination – it became clear that a live-aboard dive boat in Komodo National Park was going to be a fabulous option. Not only do I get to do almost unlimited scuba diving for 5 days – I get to see the Dragons!

I cleared that change of plans with my hosts – The Lady in Pink and her hubby – and started doing research. There are probably 50 well known dive boats that cruise the Komodo National Park area – so the first step was to eliminate options. I wasn’t interested in a long trip – many boats are 10 days – too long to be away from my hosts. I wasn’t up for a fabulously expensive operation either – no matter how good – I’m just not that into spending that kind of cash. I didn’t like the idea of having to take a speed boat for an hour or so to get the the dive boat – so I wanted a trip that started from a dock near an airport. And they had to have space available during the time period I was going to be in Bali.

Only one group met all that criteria – Moana Crusing. So started a long involved email chain with the owner Stefan – confirming availablity, arranging 100% pre-payment, determining that I needed re-certification to meet the newer Padi requirements for dives within the last 2 years, conversations about the food, about the services I’d need – like airport pickup, and help with my tanks. (I can’t actually lift scuba tanks – and I also can’t walk with them on my back – surgery in 1984 precludes me from doing these things.) All done, all arranged, all paid for. Done. I’m due to depart from Montreal on March 9th – and my dive trip starts on March 14 – All very cool.

5 days ago (on March 9th) I get an email from Stefan – the owner of Moana Crusing – their boat is stuck in Bira due to ‘weather’ and a problem with the authorties. It isn’t looking good – but he’s working on it. March 10th – another email from Stefan – their dive master and chef are going to get on board another boat – from another supplier – but don’t worry – everything is fine. March 11th – Niel – who I have never even hear mentioned – not once – writes to tell me that I’m going to be diving with Komodo Divers – one of the folks I’d nixed originally because they require you to take a speed boat for several hours from Labuan Bajo. And the boat I’m going to be on is the Mangguana. But don’t worry – they are taking care of any additional costs – and their dive master will be on the boat.

All my Research – all my detailed looking up – worthless. I’m now going on a boat I know nothing about, with a dive group I know nothing about, and this on the word of a guy I’ve never heard of.

Color me blonde – but this made me just a bit nervous. But as befits an experienced traveler – I’m ready to go with the flow…

AFTER I do a ton of google research of course. The good news – actually more people report diving with Komodo Crusing than with Moana Crusing, the Mangguana offers Nitrox, and there are ton of mostly positive reviews on Tripadvisior – generally about a different boat – but run by the same team. And the few references I can find to the Mangguana are actually really good.

So speed boat trip aside – I think I’m going to be ok. Of course I’ll only know when I arrive. But I do have my fingers crossed in a good way.

Signing off to go drink another cup of Delicous Balinese Coffee – The Soup Lady

Mosh Pit Party – Balinese Style – Getting High Naturally


Getting high – Naturally is the subtext – Enjoying yourself the point. This was totally way fun.

Tonight The Lady in Pink and I went to an Ecstatic Dance party held at the world famous Yoga Barn. This is a not to be missed experience that I’m going to attempt to describe – but trust me – seeing is believing.

The Yoga Barn is known for it’s incredible number of yoga related offerings – but it also has something happening every night. Monday night is movie night, for example. And Friday night is Ecstatic Dance night.

The rules are simple. No talking, Move freely, Leave electronics outside. No Alcohol. This is about getting high naturally – and while I’m not sure about high – and I definitely tell you it’s about getting hot.

There were over 250 people (unlimited is the that the gal taking the entrance fee used to describe the attendance) in a magnificant space – high ceiling, glorious wooden floor that I would love to take home with me, and shelves along the side for stuffing back packs and water bottles.

Average age – maybe 30, could be younger. Fitness level – high. Clothing – for Bali – very revealing – bra tops only were the norm for woman, bare chested the norm for the guys. The abs on display were ourstanding. Women wore loose fitting, flowing pants, yoga pants, or short shorts. I actually watched one woman go commando! Hair – loose and flowing – and that was true for the guys as well as the girls. I saw guys with such glorious long hair – every girl had to be jealous.

The dance started with dancers warming up in their own individual ways – one woman was even dancing with a hula hoop – and she knew how to use it. Once the serious music started – the crowd got larger and larger – and the temperature got higher and higher. There was actually a wall of heat around the core group of dancers – i couldn’t go there – although the Lady in Pink had no issues joining in and staying in.

I found a cooler (maybe 100?) spot – and danced my little heart out. The music wasn’t completely familiar – but it felt familiar.

After 90 minutes of non-stop dancing – people collapsed on the floor -formed a circle for the final meditation and hand holding. This is the Yoga Barn – you have to expect a spirtual aspect.

Then we pounded the floor to thank the dance master and headed home – tired but inspired.

I loved it.

Signing off – The Soup Lady

The dance started with dancers

Morning One in Ubud, Bali – Roosters, Ducks and Fish – Oh My!


I wake in my over the top comfy 4 poster bed to the sound of rain splashing gently on the ground outside my room. We’re just at the end of the raining season – early March – and rain is a relatively\ constant companion to most day trips – but it’s not a sit at home rain – it’s an on again/off again rain that is gentle and warm. Totally brightens the colors.

What – besides the rain – woke me? I hear the clacking of ducks outside – with the occasional loud cry of the local – and apparently in good voice and not in a good mood – Rooster.

I grab my iphone – it’s also my camera – and dash outside. The colors are completely stunning. The lush greens contrast with the reds and yellows and oranges and purples of the flowers. I’m dutifully impressed. Our house overlooks a rice field – sections of which are flooded and provide a perfect breeding ground for a local flock, carefully tended by an elderly, but still very capable man. I’m going to try for a photo op – but I think he needs to see me as someone friendly first.

Our rental home – found by my friends on VRBO – which now I can see clearly around – contains 2 bedrooms with ensuite bathrooms (and the master bathroom is even nicer than mine – with an indoor and outdoor shower), a long and thin main room with a work desk, a TV and a sofa – and what passes as a kitchen. There’s a full sized fridge – a 2 burner stove top, and a tiny toaster oven. But there’s plenty of storage, a giant sink, and since water in the pipes is not potable – there’s a dispenser that holds those plastic 5 gallons water containers. The main living area is the back porch – and it’s huge. At least 40 foot long – with 2 comfy sofas and a wooden dining table that is totally Balinease. Perfect.

The thatched ceiling is vaulted and at least 25 feet high at the highest point. Since the living room is not Air Conditioned, the tops of the walls don’t meet the roof. Instead there is room for lots of air circulation – even if the glass doors to outside are closed.

But the coolest part of the house are the water ways. You enter by stepping on huge stones that are sitting in a pool of water. All around the ouside of the house is flowing water in narrow streams – several sections of which are wide enough to house fish that Liane feeds every night. You are always surrounded by the sound of flowing water – but it is a bit ‘watch your step’ when exiting the house. You don’t want to miss the edige and fall into the water.

There’s a lovely infinity pool that drains into a white rock studded drain – a wooden resting platform with a roof for relaxing out of the sun – and sun chaises to relac in the sun.

Rumor has it that the place is for sale – $200,000 buys you a 28 year lease – at the end of which time – the home goes back to the owner of the land – who can sell it again. hmm – Not buying in Bali I guess. But hey – I’m not even the rentor – just the guest of the rentor. It’s perfect.

I’m sitting on the desk, typing my blog, when a young woman rounds the corner of the house. She owns the land (houses in Bali can not be owned outright by foreigners – instead they get a lease on the land), and has come to bless the house.

I’m going to repeat that so you’ll know it’s not a typo. Yes – she’s blessing the house. Every exit – and every stair case (just one – but if there were more, she’d be keen). She is carrying a large tray with flower baskets and Incense on it – and proceeds to go to the 2 stone altars on the property. She uses a flower placked from one of out trees to waft the smoke from the incense into the altar. She repeats this process again and again, at the edge of the pool where you would exit it, on the stairs leading up to the porch, on the porch just above the stairs, at the front door and the back door – Keeping this up until every entrance to our house is protected and blessed.

I discover in walking around that all the women have been doing this today – and there are tiny baskets with flowers and the remains of incense sticks everywhere. More popular sites have piles of baskets – as each woman did her personal series of prayers.

What a lovely introduction to Bali. Birds flying everywhere – flowers everywhere – and the protection of the spirts.

Great coffee too.

I might stay here a long time! It’s perfect.

Signing off to enjoy the peace and quiet and to commune with the spirts of the house who are feeling very warm and fuzzy – The Soup Lady

20150312-183207.jpg

Bali First Impressions – Wow!


It’s Hot here – no really really hot. Not like St. Croix hot – more like steambath hot. Just 15 minutes of exercise and my heart is pounding like a kettle drum. Definitely going to have to be careful.

But it’s also Glorious. Ok – way past Glorious in absolute fact. My friends have rented a 2 bedroom palace on a rice paddy close to downtown Ubud. And I spent most of the morning just amazed at the birds, the sounds, the smells, the place. I’m not mystically inclined, but I can see how vistors and locals alike would start feeling the presence of a greater spirit. Of course it could be sleep deprivation – the roosters wake early!

Backing up – I arrived in Ubud – and after several false starts – missing papers, old US money (not acceptable – sorry), and a very casual search of my backpack – managed to clear the airport security and exit into the airport of Bali.

After getting my luggage, going thru the ‘nothing to declare’ line, and still getting searched – I folowed the exit signs thru automatic glass doors to the outside world. A wall of amazing heat, noise, and excitement immediately hits you. There are litterally hundreds of signs with the names of incoming guests being help up hopefully by travel agents, taxi drivers, friends, friends of friends – and amongst the clamoring thongs – my friend The Lady in Pink. Whew!

She guestures me to continue walking – you have to say hi and then cross thru the duty free shop to get outside – and we exchange greetings. Movement to my right alerts me – someone is grabbing my suitcase! I whirl around – to say stop – as The Lady In Pink introduces me to our driver – Diane. (it’s a guy – I know – probably not quite the right spelling). He was just being helpful – I need to get a grip!

We walk out thru the most beautiful airport I think I’ve ever seen – open to the air – and packed even at 10:00 a night with throngs of people. Loading the car is fast – despite my packing issues – I didn’t in the end bring very much stuff – and head out towards Ubud.

It’s compeletly dark of course – which is probably a really good thing. Cuts down on the ducks, dogs, and mopeds on the road. We drive along past dozens and dozens of shops – shuttered for the night – but clearly lit to reveal thousands of hand carved stones. My favorite at first glance are the stunning ‘monsters’ that are captured with painstaking intensity in frowns, smiles, grimaces, and yawns. I absolutely have to buy one. A big one. Like entire suitcase sized. Can anyone see overweight in my future?

We meander our way out of the airport, out of Denpassar, past town after unnamed village and eventually reach Ubud. If there are highways in Bali – I didn’t see a sign of one – it was narrow 2 lane for 95% of the trip. Diane drops us off at a car park – from here it a dark walk of about 200 feet to the door of our house. After a quick tour of the house (it’s beautiful), a taste of Snake Fruit (kinda like an apple that’s a bit soft), and a long drink of water, it’s time for bed.

My bedroom is a palace. Seriously. Huge 4 poster bed hung with mosquito netting, a simple sheet (it’s hot – so just a sheet is ideal), my own private porch with a garden view, and a bathroom that honestly requires a picture to describe. The sink is one of those craved Stone bowls, the shower has no walls – just a huge cedar ‘deck’ that drains down to the pipes below. And – nice bonus – a large multi-shelved unit for storing towels, toothpaste, and various lotions and potions. I do love a nice bathroom. But it’s late, I’m wiped out – and I want bed.

Want more news – you’ll have to wait – I need my beauty sleep. Signing off – The Soup Lady

I’m Flying Tomorrow – and I’m nervous. My stomach is killing me…


I’m leaving my safe and warm nest tomorrow for a 35 hour flight to another crazy adventure trip – this time to Bali. I’ve always wanted to go to Bali – ever since I saw the movie South Pacific, it’s been on my ever expanding bucket list of things I have to do some day.

And finally – I’m going. The trip is mostly paid for – I’ve gotten some Indonesian Ruples to pay for the Visa when I arrive – and I’m about 3/4 packed.

My packing issues are probably the source of at least part of my stomach concerns. Bali is just a very short stone’s throw away from Komodo National Park – home of some of the best scuba diving in the world.

I can’t go to Bali and not go scuba diving in Komodo Park – that and not seeing the dragons would be an expensive mistake. If you go that far – at least do the highlights!

In the book and susquent movie “Eat, Pray, Love” – the heroine goes to Bali – and doesn’t see the dragons. Loser. Silly movie. Monkeys are cute – and I’m sure that healer was a lot of fun – but when are you ever going to see hundreds of living, breathing, moving, and apparently ill tempered dragons? Get a grip. See the sites.

So – what does this have to do with packing issues? Well – if you are going diving – in a serious way – you need to bring your own regulator, BC, Mask, Snorkle, Fins, Dive Computer, Dive skin – etc. with you. And instead of just easy to squeeze in bathings suits and a few shirts – I’m now trying to figure out where to put stuff that really was never designed to be packed.

To add concern onto worry – apparently luggage has a habit of not making it to Bali. 3 changes of planes, 35 hours of travelling – just too many opportunities for even clearly labeled luggage to go off on it’s own and visit some other city.

So I’m doing carry on for the critical items – unfortunately – that’s my regulator, mask, Dive Computer, C-cards, and Dive tables. Plus bathing suit, shoes for the boat, hats for the boat, my toiletries, and my clothes. If all of that’s carry on – why am I checking luggage I’m wondering? Oh yes – fins and BC – truly bulky and not dive killers if they go missing. So one mostly empty suitcase in the hold (that is probably getting lost), and one over loaded and super heavy (for me) suitcase to carry on.

If you can’t lift it over your head – can you really call it a carry-on?

Well muttering about my packing concerns is not getting the stuff into the suitcase.

Signing off to go be nervous nearer my suitcase – The Soup Lady

Life in the pursuit of Happiness


Saw a wonderful commercial this morning on TV. It was done for the Cheese marketing board here in Canada – and it argued that doing things that give you Pleasure makes life worth living. I think the actual caption was “Cheese – an Excellent Source of Pleasure”.

I was intrigued – not so much by the cheese – it looked like Brie wins hands down – probably because it’s so easy to cut – but by the concept.

Life lived in the pursuit of Happiness.

I guess it intrigued me because I just did a series of personality questionnaires for a study at my local hospital on how certain personality types handle stress – and the questions generally asked for me rate a series of statements from Totally Disagree to Totally Agree.

The questions were not generally upbeat. I feel like Killing myself appeared at least 3 times – and there was an entire series devoted to issues related to handling overwhelming emotions. As my daughter-in-law quipped – I’m probably a huge outlier in their study. But hey – they invited me to continue for 3 years. I don’t think they would have done that if my results wouldn’t be included.

Back to the pursuit of Happiness.

So what makes you happy is the first question. If you know what gives you personally pleasure – it’s much easier to figure out what to do to get more of the same.

For me – travel (well not the TRAVEL part – but the being somewhere new and different part) is hugely enjoyable. I love seeing new places, visiting new museums (or even old ones with new exhibits). And you know what totally makes my day – exploring new transit systems.

I loved it when we were learning how to use the metro system in South Korea – it was a hoot to see the different stations, to observe how people in South Korea behave when doing their normal getting from here to there routines. Particularly fun – sitting with the older citizens in the reserved seats – and seeing how they knew each other. And watching them compete for least infirm. You take the seat – no you take the seat – no, I’m clearly in better shape then you – it’s yours. Too funny!

All of which leads me to the subject of my next big trip.

I’m going to Bali – Indonesia. And I’m already loving it – because in Indonesia – I’m a millionaire – a 5 millionaire to be exact. And it only cost me $500 Canadian. But my friend says it’s easy come, easy go.

Well – I’m going to revel in my new status for at least a few days, thank you.

Signing off – The newly minted millionaire – The Soup Lady

News from the Bird House


Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal dropped by today to say hi – and grab a quick snack at my bird feeder. Officially part of the Grosbeak family – named such for their large beaks (Gross Beak – get it!) – they look amazing silhouetted against the literally tons of snow in my back yard.

It’s been a long hard winter here in Canada – and while we should really be used to this – it does happen every year people – somehow as I get older, winter seems to get longer and longer.

But today – sitting as I am in my warm house admiring the glistening white snow and startling red birds at my feeder – it’s a tad hard to work up to a good complaint.

Ok – minus anything on a thermometer is probably not wonderful for outdoor activities, but when the snow glistens and every animal track is highlighted by it’s shadows – well – its so stunningly beautiful I really can’t imagine wanting to live somewhere else.

Enough about the weather already – I did want to update my loyal readers on the happenings around my bird feeder!

My daughter accuses me of favoring beauty over brains – because I bought a fab squirrel baffle – the first in my long search for squirrel proof that actually works. It’s actually a Raccoon Baffle – and that should immediately tell you that my squirrels are the hard core type. Even though it’s been defeating them for months – they still occasionally get inspired to check it out. The Baffle is a long (about 2.5 foot) empty cylinder that is about 10″ in diameter. In balances on a disk that is screwed tight to the pole that holds the feeders – and hangs down. It is sufficiently large to keep animals from climbing up the outside – and of course there is nothing inside to do or see or eat. So several times a day a brave squirrel will scramble up the pole – peek into the cylinder – then slide down and give me a dirty look. Fortunately for me – and the squirrels – birds aren’t really neat eaters – so there’s plenty of seeds scattered on the ground around the pole – so no one is really going that hungry.

On to the birds – I know – I’m not much of a birder. Ok – actually – I’m a terrible birder. I can see the color (red – cardinal, blue – blue jay), but little brown birds with white chests – they all kinda look the same to me. And that’s using my binoculars. I’m bad.

But I have good friends – and they bought me a book. Kaufman’s Field Guide to Birds of North America. And it has lots of pictures. While what I’d really like is someone to go – look – see that and that and that – that’s how you know that bird is a Nuthatch – at least with the Kaufman, I can flip thru the pictures and say – well – that looks right.

And I’m not so dumb that I don’t know to check if it even comes into my area. Good thing they have maps in the book, eh?

Ok – so birds I have spotted:

1. Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal – who apparently live near by and visit daily
2. The Chickadee extended family – who dip and dive their way in and out constantly
3. The Blue Jays – sometime visitors – and right now notable in their lengthly absence
4. White Breasted Nuthatch. I for sure saw one – looked just like his picture! I think I might have seen a Red Breasted Nuthatch – but I’m not 100% sure.
5. Yellow Throated Vireo – hey – it’s yellow. I’m so happy. Doesn’t look like the brown guys – works for me.
6. Warblers – I’m pretty sure these are what I’ve seen – but this is a huge family – so it’s a safe bet that at least one or two or a dozen have ventured by
7. European Starling – only slightly smaller than the Cardinals – and not nearly as regular a visitor – I’m pretty proud of the fact that I’m sure that the bird I saw was a Starling. (No joking about the huge population of these either – I’m new to the game of ID’ing birds – and a positive ID is a positive ID
8. And Juncos – Dark Eye’d and very pretty.

I have one more observation to share with you – it turns out that the birds are more interested apparently in sunshine than thermometer readings. No matter how cold it is (and we’ve had days in the minus 30 and worse range), if the sun’s out – the birds come. On the grey days – even when it’s much warmer – there are fewer birds.

Ok – that’s it for news from the feeder. I’ll keep everyone posted if I spot something new and different – or if the squirrels defeat the Baffle. I think my daughter is definitely on their side.

Signing off – The Soup Lady

Thanksgiving Boot Camp


What is it about Thankgiving that gets us so excited, so filled with antipipation? I’m sure it’s partly the heady lead up to the Christmas season and all the parties, gatherings, and over-doing that entalls. But in my family’s case – I think it’s more than that.

My sisters and I have made it a tradition to gather from the far corners of the Eastern US coastline somewhere to celebrate Thanksgiving. We’ve done it in Duck, NC, Stowe, VT – and most often on Edisto Beach in South Carolina. This location is a favorite because it is easy driving distance for 2 of the 3 of us, and while the house my one sister owns isn’t quite large enough for everyone (we number from 11 to 17 to more depending on how many of the kids and grand kids join us), it’s a start in getting housing for all.

But back to the boot camp atmosphere. We’re a heavy eating, heavy drinking, and mostly heavy exercising family. And I emphasise the exercising! My sisters are keen walkers – 2 – 3 – 5 miles – no sweat. Well, actually – a lot of sweat, but no problem. I’m less keen on doing these scheduled exercise based jaunts – I prefer a purpose to my exercise – talking a hiking trail, doing a 5K Gobble Wobble – those are my prefered ways of getting out and working off the heavy eating portions of the holiday. But then I think nothing of 6 hours of Downhill skiing – every day for a month. So who am I to judge? Just do what suits you I guess.

Anyway – Thanksgiving serves as an opportunity for me to do it all. Under the heavy eating category, there’s my sister’s Pecan Pie. I spend the weeks up to Thanksgiving thinking about how many slices I shall enjoy this year. 1, 2, maybe more? In some years she has seriously splurged and made 2 pies – so I can safely eat just one slice at the Thanksgiving feast proper, and be assured that there will be left overs for the weekend. This year there was just 1 pie – so I ate 1.5 slices on Thanksgiving. Good thing too – never had another.

And then there’s the Sea Cow. Actually – fried oysters at the Sea Cow. I adore fried oysters – but in Montreal our oysters are the thin lifeless kind that even fried just don’t burst into flavor in your mouth. But on Edisto – where oysters are harvested in great abundance year round – and the Sea Cow gets fresh oysters daily- the resulting fried oysters are the stuff of legend. Only place I’ve been where the oysters might have been better (and I’m not so sure they were) was New Orleans. Oh yes, the fried Oysters at the Sea Cow are that delicious. Now if only they made Double Chocolate Bread Pudding.

To add insult to heavy eating insult – there’s Charleston. Oh yes – Charleston does it right for restaurants. This year we feasted at the Charleston Grill – Fried Catfish and grits. Oh make my southern roots sing for joy!

And of course – let’s not forget the thanksgiving feast proper. My sisters and their families divide up the cooking chores – everyone cooking their favorite thing- My brother-in-law’s Turkey, my neices pumpkin muffins, my son’s Cranberry Sauce, my sister’s Chili, the stuffing, the casseroles, the pies, the freshly baked corn bread – and the wine. Boy am I glad someone always figures a salad would be a good idea!

And of course – there’s just getting together. There’s never enough time on a long weekend to indulge in much serious contemplation and consultation – but we do get to at least hear the breaking news, to admire how everyone has lost weight, gained weight, done their hair, bought a new shirt. And it avoids the – I haven’t seen them in ages – comment when you dutifully gather at least once a year.

Enough basking in Thanksgiving heaven – Does your family have Thanksgiving Traditions? What makes your memories sigh for the next opportunity to indulge. Come on – share your thoughts and pleasures – it’s too short a life to keep the joy of getting together for some later day!

Signing off (and Yes – I know posting Thanksgiving thoughts in Feb is silly – so no comments on that score) – The seriously late posting Soup Lady.