16 September 2014
Bienvenidos a Valdivia. After one million hours of travel, the gatitos and I finally made it. Our little family has been reunited, at the end of the world. We now reside in southern Chile, the jumping off point to Patagonia and los Andes. A land with tiny deer and giant trees, sea lions who hang out at local markets, and seasons in reverse. I have gone back in time, transitioning from summer's end to the beginning of spring. The mornings are chilly and the trees have just started to produce tiny blooms. The world around me is very different from where I was just a week, month, and year ago.
My first day here, Pablo and I drove out to the coast. We followed the road along the river's edge until it opened up to the great big Pacific. It is very strange to be twenty minutes from that beast of an ocean. We stopped, to enjoy her grandeur, and also to find some lunch. We had been told to look for a little house that is half falling off the land into the sea. There you will find delicious empanadas. Filled with all manner of sea creatures. We ordered the recommended Cochayuyo, Jaiba, and Lentejas. Four filled with seaweed, four filled with crab, and four with lentils and cheese. They, and the view, were spectacular.
Pebre de Cochayuyo
11 September 2014
We're off. If you happen to be traveling through IND, YYZ, SCL, or ZAL in the next 24 hours you might just see a girl and her cat hiking from terminal to terminal. Gordo was checked at the gate, Loco serves as my bonafide carry on. Already its been a bit of a traumatizing experience, but with any luck by Friday afternoon we'll be seeing you in Chile.
08 September 2014
01 September 2014
There are a million and one histories that grace any small town. When you put people in a place all sorts of oddities emerge. There is the war with the post office for failure to deliver, which transpires the sitting of men on front porches scouting out mailmen. There is the purchase of teeny tiny puppies by friends and the breaking of ankles by bull mastiffs of others. There are neighbors who put silly decorations in windows, or ornaments galore on their lawns. In my town I even met radio drama loving Amish who sell maple syrup on weekends. And while all the stories combined might not add up to much of an epic, take a stroll down some small town streets and I guarantee you'll find something interesting.
27 August 2014
This is what I recently found on my counter. With a certain 15lb cat sitting next to it licking his paws.
Please tell me, why do you like carbs so much? I must remind you that you are a cat. Cats are supposed to eat meat. Not muffins, or cakes, peanuts, popcorn or rice. And certainly not the freshly baked zucchini bread from my Aunt. I usually store these food stuffs securely in cabinets, behind closed doors, at a hight not reachable by your like, because if I let my guard down one iota, you attack. You don't zip across the yard tormenting rodents and birds. You don't climb trees or stalk rabbit holes. No. You sit. And you wait. Until our backs are turned. And then, you sink your canines into my pastries. Pure maliciousness.