The Middle Ages

Sunshine Sketches: Sunday February 12th, 8PM on CBC

2012-02-10T08:00:00.000-05:00

Deb: Many projects comeand go. Some are fun, some are successful, some are a nightmare, and some arespecial.

Sunshine Sketches Of A Little Town is special.

If you are Canadian, thisis a must-see as it is a proud part of our heritage. If you are not, pleaseconsider watching as it is great family viewing. Colin and I have seen a copy and it isdelightful, funny, and surprising.

Colin and Deb on set.

Sunshine Sketcheswas written by Stephen Leacock in 1912. Mr. Leacock was a humourist and writer of fiction who wasborn in Hampshire, England in 1869. He came to Canada with his family at theage of six and was educated among other schools at the prestigious Upper CanadaCollege in Toronto and the University of Chicago where he received a doctoratein political science and political economy. He soon became disillusioned withpolitics (smart lad) and turned to writing, with fiction and humour aspecialty. He started out his literary career writing short stories that werepublished in magazines in Canada and the U.S. and became very popular all overthe world. Around 1911 it was said that more people had heard of StephenLeacock than had heard of Canada. Still true today!!! :-)

Between 1915 and 1925, hewas the most popular humourist in the world.

Groucho Marx and JackBenny were among his biggest fans. He was a huge influence on them when theywere young vaudevillians and fifty years after first reading him they stillconsidered him one of their favourite comic writers.

Sunshine Sketcheswas shot in the thinly-disguised town of Mariposa, a small town in Ontario thatLeacock was all too familiar with. The story is based on fact and fiction or, Ishould say, fact and embellishment.

This production is avirtual who’s who of Canadian talent, with the great Gordon Pinsent at thehelm. We are proud of it and wanted to share. Please consider spending sometime with us in this charming little town.

Barbara: I saw thetrailer for this just the other night and it looks fabulous! Beautifully shotand with some great stars (including our dear Deb and Colin). I’m so glad youremembered to remind us, Deb—because TV shows, especially Canadian ones, tendto fall through the cracks. I really want to catch this one!

We couldn’t get the trailerto embed here, but if you go to this link, you can see a really cute (and not too long) making-of doc.

The Constitution Shuffle: The Musical

2012-02-09T08:00:00.000-05:00

Deb: I think this about covers it. Yep.

"Prop 8 - The Musical" starring Jack Black, Allison Janney, John C. Reilly, Marc Shaiman, and many more... - Americablog

Mooning

2012-02-08T08:00:00.000-05:00

Deb: Full moon tonightand I already feel it, although it is only 4pm. An undercurrent of palpitationin my heart, a building spark of excitement. I have always been besotted withits round cratered self. The Man on the Moon was my first boyfriend, my betweenboyfriend, my rebound boyfriend, my steady boyfriend.

Painting in my home by Rob Gonsalves

Many people are affectedby the moon: “that monthly changes in its circled orb”. Maybe that’s why I loveit. Just like a woman, the moon reserves the right to change its mind. It issaid that Cancerians like me are most affected by its opalescent wiles.

One of my earliestmemories as a tot is looking at the moon in all its pale glory. Like mostchildren I never had problems sleeping. I would go to bed at night and wake upto the morning light. Except when it was a full moon. All my life I have awokento its gentle luminous nudge. I always figured that this was because the moonwas lonely. I surmised that it would go around gently waking like-minded soulsso they could bask in its golden glow. Can you imagine what Moon feels likewhen it puts on its shining grinning spectacle only to have people fall asleep?Trust me, I’ve performed in shows like that!

Painting in our home: The Bedroom by Deloss McGraw

I guess that’s why I cannever leave Moon wanting. Not that I have a choice, mind. Because the mooncalls on me. I would like to think it’s just me because I am covetous of theMoon, but I know there are others.

But that’s okay becausewhen I am up on a full moon night, gazing skyward towards its opaque teariness,I always feel supported in my quiet gaze.

Maybe that is why I amsuch a space enthusiast. When the “Eagle” landed on the moon, I could notbreath. When Neil Armstrong took his first step I was weightless withfulfillment.

My sketch-a-day sketchbook: the moon over The Harmony Hotel in Costa Rica

If I ever get the chanceto go to the moon, I will take it. There is no way on Moon that it coulddisappoint!

The moon makes me feelwhole. I feel like I belong to Moon and Moon

belongs to me. I havealways felt this way as far back as I can remember. The moon does not seem empty, bleak, orlifeless to me. The opposite rather.

The moon would be myultimate quiet place. My email would be out of range and I could get a lot ofreading done despite the fact that I am a very slow reader.

But would I arrive on Moonand instantly become besotted with Earth? I don’t know. In the meantime, Imoon.

I also know that this iswhy I love cheese.

My sketch-a-day sketchbook: last night's moon

Barbara: Phil and I weredriving back from Costco at dusk last night and the full moon had just startedto rise in the east, climbing up through the Toronto skyline, a huge, yellowdisc just peering down at us—almost a portal it looked so huge. It lookedimpossibly close, as if it had fallen off its orbit or something. We marveledat it, eyes barely on the road ahead. And then Phil observed, “Why does ourmoon not have a name? All the other moons have names, but ours is just ‘moon’.”

And it’s always beenthus. We wax poetic of moons in literature and examine them in detail in science,but our moon is always The Moon. Interesting!

PS I am also a moon girl,a Cancer and a feeler-of-moon-waves and dreamer-of-moon-dust. Thanks for thelovely ode, Deb.

Last night's moon tangled in the trees of our backyard

Literal Videos

2012-02-07T08:00:00.000-05:00

Barbara: Since we weretalking dreams yesterday—and we can keep it up, so keep posting comments overthere—I thought it might be fun (and funny) to go the other way today and beliterally literal. This made me laugh out loud.

Dream A Little Dream With Me

2012-02-06T08:00:00.000-05:00

Barbara: Do you like to talkdreams? Because lately a friend keeps asking me to pay attention to them—out ofcuriosity, but also out of interest as to what they might dredge up—and it mademe realize that I haven’t thought about my dreams in a long while.

(Costa Rica: photo by Phil)

I’m not one to believe thatour dreams can predict our future or thefuture or any aspect of it (although I do believe that there is a certain kindof person for whom this might be true). But I do think that dreams are manifestationsof our questions or concerns or stresses or even joys.

In the morning when I wake, Ihardly ever remember my dreams. It was only several years ago when I was doingsome research and was encouraged to really try and remember them that I made aconcerted effort to recall details as soon as I woke up. And it worked!Suddenly I could see the strange places I’d been in my dreams that were kindalike familiar places in real life but then not.I began to write the details down in a journal that I kept beside my bed, andthat process helped me remember the dreams with even greater clarity. Thisritual was so effective that to this day I remember dreams I had during thatperiod. (Okay, there was this one where I’m an amphibian creature crawlingaround a vividly verdant rainforest floor but I’m also looking at my creature-selffrom above, way up high from the lush trees, also trying to crane my eyes overthe tree-line to the blue sky beyond it, when suddenly my amphibian self says,very clearly over the rainforest whoooosh, “What you’re looking for is not upthere. It’s down here on the ground.” Even though it was my dream, I stillthink that’s a cool, apt life-reminder for any of us, no?)

(Costa Rica: photo by Phil)

Anyway, thecataloguing-dreams thing was just an exercise and pretty soon I dropped thehabit and began again to jump out of bed as soon as I woke to hit the groundrunning. Dreams went back to being what they’d been before, these distant,vague, sometimes unsettling, sometimes blank impressions … and nothingmore.

So I decided to heed myfriend’s recent advice and from now on spend a few moments every morning tryingto remember my dreams. At first it was frustrating. I couldn’t remember athing. And what’s worse, I could feel the memory of the dream zinging away frommy mind’s-eye like a yo-yo, now here, now gone up from whence it came. But Irealized that if I really worked to grab the memory back before it was too far flung(!),the details would rack into focus and I could examine it, turning it first oneway and then the other until it made some kind of coherent sense. Now I cantell you with complete confidence that each of my dreams (much like the amphibian dream) has featured melooking for something. But in an intent, calm, and specific way. Either I’masking people questions, or I’m searching my house (but not my house, rather thatweird, dreamly version of it), or I’m off in some distant land, exploring anddiscovering it. Or—like in last night’s dream—I’m either a newly minted policeofficer or an actor learning to be one, and I’m taking all these notes andbeing super anal and asking all these questions about how the sleuthing shouldbe done but also giving my (unsolicited) opinion when I think the sleuthingcould be more effective (sadly, this is so me, sigh).

The thing is, I don’t knowwhat I’m searching for in essence through all these dreams, but it does makesense to me that this is theconundrum I’d take into my REM: what is it?what is next? where is it all leading? what will I find? will I know what to dowith it when I find it?

There’s a really weird side-noteto all this: the same friend who started this interesting dream-quest alsoreminded me about that pen I lost all those years ago—and she challenged me tobe open to finding it. So I’m lying in bed this morning, freshly awake, rememberingthat police-slash-actor-training dream in all its strange detail and suddenlymy thoughts go to that errant pen, out of nowhere. And I get this deeply awarefeeling that I know where it is. And it’s an option I’d long ago forgotten. Isee it with another person. A person who said they didn’t have it way backthen. As I said, an option I looked into and then put aside in favour ofsearching high and low in my own home. I’m not saying I believe it was stolen,I’m saying I just suddenly felt it was gone to this other, unreachable place. Areal pen’s real whereabouts … or a metaphor for something else?

Are dreams speaking to usfrom some place we don’t ever tap into in waking life, or are they simply awild kind of movie-version of what we already know? Is it the truth … or is itall just a dream?

Deb: Fascinatingand timely subject, Barb—for me too. I am finding of late the insomnia seems tobe the order of the day for me. Or I should say, order of the night. 3am to 6amto be specific. My feeling around this is that my dreams and wakefulness are amanifestation of that which I cannot face.

Although my day is filled with positive active movement regards thechanges in my Mom and Dad’s life, my dreams are filled with doubt andself-judgment. When I wake up sometimes it is all I can do to shake them. Butshake them I do. I know these images and feelings are the part of me that wantsto plant the seed of self-doubt. And I guess if I had to choose, I’d take themduring sleep rather than during a waking moment, which might affect my life orsomeone else’s life. So, yeah, I think the dreams are what we don’t and won’ttap into. I also think they are daring adventures that an unused part of ourbrain’s spirit wants to go on. And if we won’t go willingly, it takes usregardless.

Youhave inspired me to the dream journal, Barb. I have a splendid one that myhusband bought me in Italy. A lovely brown leather deal with the moon and starsstitched on the cover. I will wait till this period of my life is settled andthen I will start recording in it, not my dreams but the images and feelingsprovoked as a result of them. It’s pointless to do it right now though, as Iknow all too well which part of my brain this oddness and fear is comingfrom—and why. But soon, I will crack it open. Look out, brain, here I come.

Debra-Debbie-Deb

2012-02-03T08:00:00.000-05:00

Deb: As I wind my way through life, changing, adapting,and reinventing myself, my name has come along for the ride.

What’s in a name, you might ask?

For me? My name game reflects and calls up various stages of mylife.

I was born Debra AnneMcGrath. My parents loved the name and chose to give me the simplestversion—not Deborah, not Debrah, but Debra.

Ironically throughout my life, not one single solitary person hasspelled it the simple way that my parents thoughtfully intended. Somehow thatamuses me. Did these people maybe perceive me as more complex than I am? I willsay yes. After all, I am writing this.

My name when I started school in Grade One was Debra. My teachers introduced me as Debra to the class and by the time thebell rang for our first recess I was Debbieto all who knew me. And I didn’t fight it. Even at that young age, I understoodit. Debbie suited me. I was Debbie. Debbie Anne—perky, outgoing, full of beans! Debbie was my style and it attached itself to me right throughGrade Thirteen.

I will admit with a slightly red face that there was onemisguided period around Grade Four when I announced to the schoolyard at largethat I would only answer to “Gidget”.(reddening) It didn’t take. Unless you include my sad attempts at referring to my “Gidget self” in the third person. (Burning red)

I should also say at this point that people throughout my lifeconstantly tell me that I look likeDebbie Reynolds. I even won a DebbieReynolds lookalike contest at a Toronto City Hall Canada Day event. Infairness it wasn’t a Debbie Reynolds’slookalike contest, it was a general lookalike contest. But I was picked out byone of the judges as a Debbie Reynolds’slookalike. There were lots of other lookalikes—Burt Reynolds, John Travolta,Jimmy Walker, and Linda Evans. But I won and my prize was a television. I wasthrilled. And that win confirmed my Debbieness.

Me at my Debbie Reynoldest

When I got to college and desperately needed to be takenseriously, I decided to adopt my given name, Debra. After all, the other girls in my acting class seemed exoticand mysterious. The most colourful and exciting of these girls had hairyarmpits and legs. I was so envious of them. How bold of them how “I am womanhear me roar” of them. I was determined to shed my suburban Debbie and grow the hair under my arms and legs, but thepatchy results and my Mother’s voice ringing in my ears put a stop to myattempt at earthy goodness.

So Debra was re-born. Iwas now Debra McGrath. Dropped the Anne. After all, this was way before theTiffani Amber Thiessen’s or the JonathanTaylor Thomas’s. Debra was a seriousactress. Someone to be reckoned with. My imagined reviews included, “Debra’s portrayal of Titania was sonuanced, so ethereal, this critic was transported.” Except it wasn’t. I wasn’t... Titania, I mean. I was “fairy”. Unnamed fairy. With one speech. The main fairy, mind you, but that stilldidn’t stop me from sucking. “Over hill, over dale, over done.”

At that moment I would have given anything to retreat to the Debbie. Or even to the D. Small d.Clearly, I wasn’t worthy of the Debra.I felt that at any moment Deborah Kerr herself was going to strip me of mygossamer wings.

But Debra I remainedall those years. Through sitcoms, stage plays, waitressing, and The SecondCity, I remained Debra, ever hopefulthat the sheer class of “The Debra”would take me far. With the name DebraI could cling to some modicum of credibility, despite my less than stellarcredits.

Then I met my husband and from day-one he called me Deb. Not Debbie, not Debra. And after a while (read: post menopause), Ibegan to like this handle. Deb.Unadorned. Simple. No bullshit. Just Deb.And my favourite part is that my parents now call me Deb too. And it must be tough for them because they christened me Debra and they loved that name for me.But they got it too. Deb.Approachable. Deb.

So, once again, I have changed my professional name to Deb. DebMcGrath.

See what I mean? It’s good, isn’t it? You know where you standwith Deb.

“Hi, I’m Deb. I’mfriendly. I’m accessible. I don’t take myself too too seriously. I’m overmyself. I’m Deb.”

But I will always love Debrabecause that’s how I started. That’s the name my parents proudly gave me.

And I will always love Debbiebecause when I hear it called out, I know it’s a childhood friend whom I amalways thrilled to see.

But now I’m Deb. Deb McGrath.

However I would be remiss if I did not thank its predecessors whomade “Deb” the person she is today.

So ... My heartfelt thanks go out to Debra Anne McGrath. Debbie Anne McGrath. Gidget McGrath, Debra McGrathMochrie, Debra Mochrie, and Debbie Anne.

Thanks, ladies.

I could not be Debwithout you.

Barbara: Well, I envy you your name/names/handle/alias/tag/moniker/etccelebration. Mostly because even at my ripe old age, I wish my name was someother one. I will answer to Barb—and do, because almost every single personcalls me Barb. Even those who’ve just been introduced to me. Even those whohaven’t yet heard someone else call me Barb. Even people who are supposed to besuper-polite to me. No, it’s always with the “Barb”. Funny. Anyway, I don’thate it, it’s fine, it’s just not my … name, ya know? And Barbara? Never reallyembraced or loved that either. Like my poor daughter, Michele, always wish I hada name that felt more “me”. But I’m getting there. I think, to your point, Deb,“I could not be Barbara without you”. Gotta love that!

Deb: Barb, this iskilling me. I had no idea you did not relate to your name. I think this issomething you could open up. Why? Who do you see yourself as? What name wouldyou give you? No pressure, but I think it is fascinating. Me? I think you areBarbara—Barbara, gorgeous Barbara. Barbara Feldon, Barbara Eden. LovelyBarbara. Three syllable Barbara. Lovely name. Of course, you have to feel thatway too. That is KEY! Do our kids like their names? What else would they havecalled themselves? What about our readers?

Do we all hate our nameat one time or another?

Barbara: Yeah, Micheledoes NOT like her name. We've niggled on that one for so long, trying to comeup with some kind of nickname or something she’d feel is more “her”. But, nope,nothing yet (and please don’t mention her childhood nickname!!). Myself, Ialways wanted something more modern. My sisters have such sexy names: Catrina,Nicole. I wanted that. Weird. I feel like Barbara is old-fashioned. And yet,even as I say all this, I’m getting more and more into my name. Isn't thatbizarre??? It’s a push and pull…

Deb In Someone Else’s Autobiography

2012-02-02T08:00:00.000-05:00

Barbara: I didn’t know whatlittle tidbit I would share with you for today’s post, but then it occurred tome that in real life lately I keep talking about this book I’m reading, and then it occurred to me that the book iswhat I ought to deem worthy for today’s chat (*says in a haughty voice*).

The book is Too Close to the Falls and is anautobiography by a now-Canadian writer/psychologist, Catherine Gildiner, depicting her childhoodyears in Lewiston, NY. I’m reading it for my amazing Book Club—and I won’t lie:I wasn’t terribly excited to read another this-is-my-real-life-in-chapter-form(with all-the-chapters-taking-place-between-years-4-and-10, no less!!). But it wasBook Club, so I waded gamely into the fray.

And, lo, I met this charming,irascible, feisty little kid who had any number of unusual encounters in early50’s America. She stood up for herself and for every other decent human beingin her life. And I just couldn’t shake the impression that I was meeting youngDeb in full regalia.

Now I know this isn’t Deb’sstory, but one of the things I’ve most loved about this blog is meeting thatchild of Deb’s yore—the one in the stories she shares with us sometimes. I’vebeen surprised and delighted by insights into Deb’s young life—those childhood experiencesthat full-grown friends often don’t share with each other (we have so manyother things to talk about, right?). And so I’ve been even more delighted andexcited to read this adorable book.

And as I am reading, I’m alsogetting that certain feeling that, by odd osmosis, I’m getting to know and loveour darling Deb even more. This is what they mean when they call someone “spirited”.It’s the best of all things human and humane. Thanks, Catherine Gildiner. And, of course, thanks my dear Deb.

Deb: I am going to use my Chapters Christmas gift cards andgo get this book ASAP. In the meantime I am going to love you for thinking ofmy life when you read this book. Sweet sweet sweetness. I can’t wait. Remind meto blog about the time I thought my childhood life was in a Penguin book. Ihave been searching for that book ever since. It is fascinating!

Out On A Quantum Limb

2012-02-01T08:00:00.000-05:00

Barbara: I wasnever a very science-y, math-y type of person. In fact, in my last years ofhigh school, I scraped by in Chemistry, never took Physics, and completelyflunked Math. I know, I know, if I’d had the right teacher or the right method,I might have grasped one or all of these. Believe me when I say it’s one of mylife-regrets that I didn’t. Oh, to be mathematically savvy—and moreimportantly, to believe yourself so!!

So imagine howsurprised I was (and still am) when I got an email from a friend the other dayasking if I wanted to go with her to an 8-week course on, wait, how did she putit? … Oh yeah, like this: “It is about quantum physics + the metaphysicalimplications of the findings of theoretical physics.” Officially titledPhilosophy and Quantum Physics. I could barely understand my friend’s sentence,never mind understand a course like this, never mind understand why I wanted totake it with every fibre of my being.

Here are some ofthe other pithy tidbits designed to seduce a plebe like me: The wave particle duality - what is theultimate reality behind light and matter? · The Heisenberg uncertaintyprinciple - the consciousness of the observer seems to intrude into thephysical world. What does it mean? · The Schrödinger wave equation - What isits significance? · Quantum Entanglement - the ultimate connectedness of all matter.

I’m sure thereare many of you reading this who can not only get it all, but can argue, delve, debate, trumpet, agree anddisagree. But I am not one of you. And yet, last night I took my (as it turnedout unnecessary) notebook (okay, unnecessary in that this was designed to be asit-in-a-circle-and contribute kind of course) and my meek little mind to thisactually very comfortable and intimate classroom. There I found myself amidstother curious beings of various aptitudes and began an adventure that I amthrilled and excited to be part of.

I haven’tknowingly been hungering for classes or lessons, although I do rememberbemoaning on these very pages that I envied the lesson-takers (thanks, Deb, forthat unwitting shot in the arm). And here, a mere week later, the universe hasseen fit to offer me a mind-shifting microcosm. And I have seen fit to jump inwith both my ears and mind open. Woo-hoo!

I’ll see you onthe other side of the Quantum Leap (or, if they make their case, now–– because now and thenis all happening at the same time).

Deb: The closest I come to understanding what you're talking about isloving the show Quantum Leap withScott Bakula. I understood every single word of that show, so, ummmm, justsayin’ I think I would be top of the class!

Barb, I am so so proud and happy for you. Learning! And learningimpressive stuff. You have inspired me right back! I may just go out and becomean astronaut. Can’t wait to hear more on these very pages!!!! Wait. Is Scottteaching it by any chance ‘cause...

Lego Man in Space

2012-01-31T08:00:00.000-05:00

Deb: These are two Scarborough Ontario boys, Mathew Ho and AsadMuhammad, friends from grade school who put this amazing little projecttogether. When Asad came to Canada from India he could not speak any Englishand Mathew befriended him and involved him in this project some years later.When asked by interviewers how they are going to build on Lego Man in Space,they said, “We are just going to concentrate on good grades and graduating thisyear and getting into good universities.” Lovely boys with something to telltheir grandchildren.

This is the interview:

This is the whole unedited journey:

Perspective

2012-01-30T08:00:00.000-05:00

Deb: Mom and I spent the night in the emergency ward. She lostcontrol of her electric wheelchair and rammed into her chest of drawers, splitting her legs open. She required several stitches in both legs. The doctorwas further concerned that infection would set in, given that they could notsuture the whole thing due to large pieces of skin that had come away from theleg. This was a very serious concern given the fact that her leg was already compromisedfrom her gangrene a few months ago and still on a slow mend.

A plastic surgeon was called in to see her and gave instructionsto the nurse regards bathing and dressing the wound and gave us an appointmentfor follow-up in two days, at which point they would do a skin graft.

We had arrived in the emergency room at 8:30pm and finally leftat 5:30am. The care was attentive and thorough and Mom was grateful and said soto each person who helped her. But as the hours wore on her patience wore out.She just wanted to go home and became increasingly frustrated. She had neverhad stitches in her life and was frightened. Add to that the fact that thedoctor could not properly “freeze” the compromised leg and said that she wouldcertainly feel the sutures as they were administered, which sadly she did. Shewas a trouper though, squeezing my hand and bearing up the best she could. Whenshe cried or called out, she would apologize to the doctor who told her, “Mrs.McGrath you have every reason to express your pain and many people could notbear up what you are going through, so yell away.” Bless his heart.

After she was stitched, they came to transfer her to anotherpart of the emergency department as this one was closing down given thelateness of the hour and the fairly slow night in the waiting room. The orderly who was wheeling her received anemergency call. He started to run down the hall and, turning to me over hisshoulder, said, "Stay with your Mom, I will be right back." Inseconds he came running back towards us toting a large white cooler marked “HumanBlood” and ran through the large heavy doors right in front of us marked“Trauma”.

Strangely enough I had not even noticed we were in front of thetrauma ward as I had been chatting with Mom, trying to keep her mind off thestitches, the possible infection, and her mounting panic around the even slightpossibility that she should wind up back in the hospital for an extended stayas she had done in November.

Suddenly the trauma doors swung open and my heart jumped into mymouth. There were people on stretchers, blood everywhere, police rushing about,doctors suiting up, nurses running in, voices calling out and the flash ofmetal, sharp against the bright overhead lights. My mouth was dry and open, myeyes wide. My heart was beating like it wanted to escape me. Suddenly a nurse,shocked that we were standing there, pulled a bloody gloved hand across acurtain. All that was left were the sounds. Sounds like I had never heard in mylife. And it seemed ... well, it seemedlike TV. I had never been that close to anything like that and I wasoverwhelmed with the reality of it.

As our orderly returned, rushing us away from what we should nothave seen, I sputtered out, "Is ...everyone ... okay?” He said with sadness, "It's not good.” “Was it a caraccident?” “Yes ... it’s bad." As we rounded the corner, I began to wonderif I had even seen what I know I had seen. It happened so fast. Maybe it wasn'treal. After all I had horrible insomnia the night before and after all it waswell after 2am at this point and I was punchy. But I was reminded that it wasall too real as people were still running by us towards the trauma room and Icould still hear the ching of theirI.D. tags which were opening the heavy doors, admitting them to that horrificscene.

As we walked quickly on, the pounding in my ears was abating andit was just starting to seem like a bad dream when we came upon the"Family Quiet Room", which was filled with crying frantic family andfriends who were waiting for word about the accident.

The accident that was bad.

They were waiting to find out about their loved ones who werereceiving all that care from the people with the chinging I.D. tags. They were waiting and praying for good newsfrom the event our orderly had described as...

It doesn’t look good.

We walked by them in what seemed like slow-motion, offering weaksmiles and glances of hope. Some of them looked back and my eyes locked withtheir visible panic. As our silence thickened, our orderly Gregory stoppedabruptly and turned to us. He looked my Mom in the face, smiled a broad smileand said, “Mrs. McGrath, aren’t you lucky!” My mother, kind of shocked by thisodd chirpy statement amidst this scene, faltered a little but said, “Yes ... yes,I am ... I know I am.” He continued, “I work here every day and I see all sortsof horrible things. But what stays with me is the kindness, the humanness. Idon’t know exactly what is going to happen to the people in that room, but Iknow they are receiving the strength of skill and the best of the human spiritand that is all any of us can do. That is why we are here, Mrs. McGrath. Youare here having your own trauma and I am not belittling that one bit. But youare here with your daughter who loves you and who you love. Terrible thingshappen. But it’s love. To love and be loved and to know it. That is what I amgrateful for every day I wake up, every day I get to work here, and every nightI lay my head on the pillow.”

He wheeled us into my Mom’s E.R. room, “You are lucky. Good luck,Mrs. McGrath,” and he left.

All the way home that morning I thought of those people we hadseen. I don’t know what happened to them and I pray that they pulledthrough. But thanks to Gregory I wasreminded that they were loved. That they too were lucky.

Barbara: What a story, Deb. My heart was pounding the whole timeI was reading it. We haven’t had a chance yet to talk about that night with anyreal detail and I thank you for sharing this.

There’s nothing so soul-shifting as sudden accident. Howeveryone is forced to stop in their tracks and cling to the pulsing heart ofthings, which is the heart of everything: love love love. My heart goes out tothose people and the shock they faced that awful night and must probablycontinue to face now. I also hope and wish for a healthy recovery for your dearMom, Deb. Love.

Yearning (…or, Yeeeeeeaaaarrnnnning)

2012-01-27T08:00:00.000-05:00

Barbara: I watched anextraordinary film the other night called Pina.Now this blog post isn’t really about the film, but I’m going to do a quickpitch for it anyway. It’s a documentary about legendary German choreographer,Pina Bausch (and because I loved it so much, I’m embedding the trailer at theend here). Mostly a pure dance film with only a bit of interview and oldfootage of Pina in rehearsal (sadly, she died recently), it captures theessence of modern dance and its powerful spirituality. Why am I telling youthis? Because one of the sound bites in the film is a dancer saying that onecommon theme for Pina was in the question of why we, as humans, yearn so much.

I know it’s a simplequestion. Maybe even an obvious one. That we yearn is self-evident. But howoften have you asked, Well, why? Why do we yearn?

We all want something soachingly badly, it hurts. To find love, to create something substantial, toleave a mark, to connect, to feel joy, to feel calm, to be safe, to have more,and then just a bit more, and on and on. But it’s always something that is justbeyond our grasp.

And because we’re all sofamiliar with this fundamental state, I won’t keep on it. But when you ask“why”, well, that’s when the concept really gets interesting.

Do we yearn because it is anexquisite pain, something bigger than us, something so heartfelt it reminds uswe’re alive? Do we yearn because it forces us to keep pushing ourselves togreater heights. I mean, without yearning, would any of this—this, look around, all this stuff—be here, or would we still be backin caves, not even a fire to warm us because we haven’t yearned it intoexistence?

I know what I yearn about. Iyearn about love. So I seek it out, always striving to keep it around me, trulysuffering when it is threatened (or worse). I yearn about getting my work outthere, not so that it’ll be some award-winning achievement (although, sure,that would be nice), but in a way that will collect people around my “tribalfire” so I can tell them a story—true or fiction, both—and we can laugh or cryor wonder together (hello, blog buddies!). But here’s the rub: even when I havethese things, the yearning doesn’t go away. The yearning yearns for that somethingto either be more than it is or ityearns against the fear that it might goaway, as if there is an absolute certainty that something great will endand I will suffer.

So what do you yearn about?And why do you think we yearn at all?

Deb: What a provocative subject, Barb. Yearning, I think, is whatkeeps us going. I myself yearn for a very long life. That has always been myyearning. I want to live well and I want to live long. I yearn to travel theglobe with my family. I want to see as much of it as I possibly can. The longlife I yearn for will help with that quest. My yearning changed over the years.When I was younger it was always about art, and it still is, but not as strongas other yearnings, I guess. Clearly my yearning is still learning!

PINA - Dance, dance, otherwise we are lost - International Trailer from neueroadmovies on Vimeo.

Piano Puppet

2012-01-26T08:00:00.000-05:00

Deb: Here foryour enjoyment is a delightful little escape. It is long, but you don’t have towatch all of it to get a taste of this very original delightful offering. Forall I know it has been around for years, but I have just seen it and yes, itwas darned hard to remember he was a puppet. I have acquaintances who are morepuppet-like! :-)

Annette!

2012-01-25T08:00:00.000-05:00

Deb: When I was living inL.A. twenty years ago, I wrote some spec scripts. For those of you who mightnot know, a spec script is a script you write for an existing, current show totry and secure a writing job or agent. One of my scripts was for Seinfeld. MySeinfeld episode had Jerry falling in love, a true love, which he had neverdone on the show. She was a gal in the tourism industry and she was funny. Veryfunny. A natural wit. Jerry was smitten by her beauty, wit, and charm, andespecially by the fact that she was not in the entertainment field and had nointerest in it at all. In the end, despite his love for her, his male comic’sego could no longer stand the fact that everyone, including him, thought thathis girlfriend Annette was funnier than him. He ended it, broken-hearted, butsecure in the knowledge that he would return to his rightful place in the groupas “the funniest”.

Thischaracter was based on my dear friend Annette with whom Barb and I had a three-way last year. Okay, just read that sentence and thought, “Wow, if anyone isreading our blog for the first time, they are GOING TO BE BACK BABY!”

Digressionaside, I must tell you that Annette is quite simply the wittiest woman I know,and trust me, I know plenty of witty gals. She is a brilliant writer and thestuff she posts on Facebook is simply hilarious. Sometimes I only have time to“like” and sometimes I leave a comment. This fall and Christmas season I was not on FB as regularly, so theother day I sat with a cup of tea and opened her FB page and read for hours.What a delightful time it was.

Barbara:As Annette’s brilliance is what we want to feature today, I’ll just pop my headin here and add, Yeah, the woman’s a genius. So funny you wish she had, like, aTV show or a regular column in the paper or a webisode series or … I don’tknow … maybe her own BLOG!!! And she is so sweet, she’ll probably be all shadesof red just reading this. Annette, come out, come out, wherever you are!

Deb:The following is a very small example from FB of the one, the only, The Wit: Annette.

*Ranmy first 5K this morning... Just kidding.... I'm on my second muffin...

*Whydoes using a straw make it so much harder to accept there's no more soda?

*I'msorry, previews, but raving "Best Movie of the Year" means nothing tome on January 20th.

*Havefinally come up with suitable epitaph for me for when the sad day comes..."She died doing what she loved... judging strangers on the internet."

*Evernotice how you never meet anyone who's quietly on a juice diet? And while weare sorta on the subject, horses are vegans too but you don't hear themneighing on and on about it...

*Juryduty... The sobering reminder that one day your life could be in the hands of aguy wearing Velcro shoes.

*Givenwhat a perennial distraction it proves, I'd delete my Facebook account, butthere's some shaky marriages I'm keeping an eye on.

*Soyou're feeling a tad scared and anxious because it's Friday the 13th? Wellhere’s my sympathetic take on that… If there's only one day a year when youwake up irrationally afraid, you're doing okay, my friend!

*I'mcurrently standing in the 10 items or less line, holding 14 items, freaking theh*ll out.

*IfI learned I only had a week to live and could go anywhere in the world, I thinkI'd go to the hospital... because that sounds pretty serious!

*Theonly thing that would make my morning more productive is actually doing something!It's not looking hopeful mind you but it's good to have a plan...

*Lookslike I’m going to have to abandon my New Year's Resolution to only say nicethings about people... Just isn't working as in my case it was the equivalentof a vow of silence.

*Snowflakesas far as the eye can see... all identical!

*TheSlippery Slope of New Years Resolutions: January 1st: Resolve to go to the gymevery day. January 2nd: Feel guilty for not going. January 3rd: Pie forbreakfast!

*Mynew years resolution for 2012? I will be less laz

*I'venever had personalized license plates... but don't worry, I still know how towaste most of my discretionary income! IAMGR8 has nothing on me!

*Somethink the economy is slowly recovering. Others think it's on the verge of collapse.I think about shoes mostly...

*Ijust want people to accept me for who I pretend to be!

*Justcaught the news that Anthony Weiner is now a dad. Wife, Huma Abedin, gave birthto a baby boy, Jordan Zane Weiner. Naturally, The New York Post welcomed JordanZane into the world in it's inimitable way with a front page headline reading,"A Little Weiner", "Baby boy for Huma and louse." Hopemom's not a scrapbooker!

*It'sintriguing to see how much worse celebrities looked "before they werefamous" until that painful moment that you realize that's how you looknow!

26 December 2011

*Almosta full year away and all the stores have their Christmas stuff up already. Juststaggering...

*Whatan incredible Christmas Eve...We had so much fun pretending that the scratchingsound from our attic was reindeer and stuff...

*"Iam Santa Claus." "No you're not." "Yes I am.""OK." - Miracle on 34th Street in tweet form. And that's all shewrote folks... It's into the car we go... Happy Holidays!

*Thebest 5 seconds of my life are when I wake up and have no idea I'm a human orhave responsibilities.

*It'scute when they put expiration dates on snacks like I won't eat them as soon asI get to my car.

*Outof all of Santa's reindeer, the one that sounds most like a street name forcrystal meth is all of them.

*AndI? Well I took the road less traveled by, and now my GPS won't stoprecalculating...

*Thebest thing about telepathy is... I know, right?

*I'dput money on it that now that it's been a few years, she's "The Girl WhoReally Regrets Getting That Dragon Tattoo."

*Howannoying is it when you're about to take a great photo and somebody calls yourcamera.

*Duringthis season of giving... remember every day is a gift... though many are filledwith non-returnable things you didn't ask for and don't want!

*Alittle primer that may serve you at this party-centric time of the year... Stagesof inebriation: Sociable, fun, hilarious, inappropriate, bitter, sad, need newpants, need new friends!

*Ifthe old adage about "opposites attract" is true, I probably shouldhave looked for someone who gets up early and does stuff...

*Thoughtprocess of the guy who invented eggnog: "Man, I could really go for atall, cold, glass of eggs right now."

*"Howabout a month of non-stop obligations, budget-busting overspending,less-than-desirable travel conditions, very short, dark days and bitterweather?" - The pitch for the month of December.

*Greatjob keeping crap out of my eye... eyelash that's currently in said eye.

*Wouldit not make more sense to dump Gatorade on the losing head coach?

*...It’sChinese New Year and I’m still writing Rabbit on all my checks... Don’t youhate that?

Empathy: Pass It On

2012-01-24T08:00:00.000-05:00

Okay, everyone, thanks to much encouragement and despite a great fear-of-the-unknown, Deb and Barbara have finally joined Twitter!! Check out our sidebar link––and please join us in the Twitterverse (although how in hell we will be able to limit ourselves to just 140 characters is anybody's guess)!

In light of yesterday's post, here's a great video that reminds us just how important empathy is to our evolution. Don't be scared off by its length, it is really fascinating (and, if you've already seen it, definitely worth a second look). Would love to hear how it resonates with you!

When I Was A Lesbian

2012-01-23T08:00:00.000-05:00

Barbara: The other day ashort Youtube video got circulated and re-circulated on Facebook among many ofmy friends. It moved me so much, I felt compelled to 1) share it here, and 2)open a discussion by sharing my own personal experience. The film itself(embedded below) is a kind of trailer for a young filmmaker hoping to raisefunds to make the actual film itself (from the link, it looks like he’s reachedhis goal)—a documentary about the challenges, accomplishments, joys, obstacles,tragedies, and cultural journey around being gay. I was moved to tears when Iwatched the video—oh, the terrible injustices made against so-feeling “SecondClass Citizens”, but also OH! we have come a long way too.

Being a glass-half-full type,I always hang onto that: we CAN change, and we HAVE changed.

When I was thirteen, I hadjust entered high school (a year early as I had skipped Grade 3 … I know, highfrickin’ accomplishment…). It was Grade 9 and I was full of all the usualhormone-y, aching, hopeful, vibrant-yet-vague desperately romantic dreams of anadolescent girl with limited experience. This was it: I was finally (yes:FINALLY! …shut up) going to find love. The year started off slowly, but I was stillscoping this new jungle, searching for prey.

Not long into this, my firsthigh school year, I found myself playing in the freshly-fallen November snow—averitable bonanza of childhood delight—with my best friend, Louise. She haddecided to go to another high school and for the first time, we weren’tspending every minute together. So an afternoon together out in the bright,sunny cold of my front yard, throwing snow bundles at each other and justreveling in the fresh air and each other’s company, seemed like the best way tocelebrate this (now rare) opportunity…. And then, it happened.

I almost can’t remember whomoved in first, but I do remember the bright halo of sunlight around us, thesnowflakes frozen in my mind’s eye, each flake uniquely starred and suspendedand glistening in the air between us, when our faces came together and therewas a kiss. I say “there was a kiss” in that general way because I don’t reallyremember the actual details. What I believe I remember is her kissing my cheek,but then I also remember leaning toward her, as if there was intent behind myactions too. I will say this—it was pure joy.

And then we came apart andboth turned our heads in unison to register that a boy—an older boy who went to my school, a neighbor but one who I rarely ifever spoke to, a cute boy, one whomight have been part of the vast array of possibilities I had amassed in myadolescent dreams—was walking past, his head now turning away from us, butobviously having seen us, a slight (not attractive) smirk on his lips. Even atthirteen, only just barely familiar with the whole high school protocol andorder, knew—KNEW!—that this was going to be bad. Bad enough that I desperatelycalled out to him for the first time in my life, called as if I was throwing ahook around him and trying to pull the moment back: “Hey, Bradley (or whateverhis name was)!!!” But he just shrugged and continued on. And then both Louiseand I succumbed to hysterical laughter, falling into that now treacherous, coldsnow as if we didn’t care about a THING in the world!

I think in that moment, sheknew what I knew, but we never spoke of it. Anyway, she didn’t go to the sameschool as me and this boy. Our friendship might have petered out of its ownaccord, or maybe I pulled away from her, subconsciously angry and resentfulthat my imagined glory years in high school, my years of discovery andexperimentation and LOVE had now been snatched away because of one brief kisson the cheek, but anyway, that was one of the last times I ever saw her.

The next day, I went toschool and the nightmare began. The news was circulating fast. The high schoolwas large enough, probably 800 students, to make me feel like the whole worldhad ostracized me. In 1976, it was a bad thing to be a lesbian. It meant I hadto walk the halls to sneers and snide remarks. It meant I was stared at andwhispered about. It meant being openly groped—my barely-formed, bra-less, but intenselyprivate breast was openly grabbed one day by a Grade 9 boy as I made my waydown the hall. He mumbled some incomprehensible but certainly vile gay slurwhile his friends guffawed and jeered after me. I was burning with this unknownrage: it was not outward anger, but seething anger forced inward at myself. I had done this. I was wrong.

In all fairness, many kids atschool probably didn’t know and/or didn’t care. But when you’re thirteen, thosepeople melt into the uninteresting background, no longer significant. Thank godI found the after-school drama program and was able to immerse myself in theextraordinary experience of performing. And the drama kids were crazy-fun andsweet. Of course we never spoke of my sexuality. I don’t know what theythought. Thank god I found my next best friend and her circle of gentlefriends. They all made me feel welcome and “normal”.

So if I say I know how awfulit can feel to be ostracized and mocked and assaulted for being gay, eventhough my experience is only a slight one compared to so many of yours, I cansay it with some visceral experience. It sucked. It sucked because it was soemotionally painful at the time, it sucked because I was definitely not gonna get any of those 14-year-oldboys that I dreamed about, and it sucked because when I finally did land a guytwo years later, I emotionally subjugated myself to him. It does “get better”,as they say, but it does take an awful lot of work and an awful lot of support(which, btw, you need to ask for). And it’s a whole lotta fuss for somethingthat, at its core, is love, pure and simple. Interesting bookend to this story,many years later, I discovered that a few of the brightest lights from highschool, the ones who lit up the place with their loving support and which includedthat high school best friend who saved me, turned out to be gay.

But the real truth here is, growingup, I knew as little about being gay as any of those other ignoramuses. Icouldn’t imagine men or women being together and choosing that. And I certainlydidn’t equate that connection to love. And all because we never talked aboutit. It never came up at home and I never asked about it. It was just a turn ofphrase, a … slur. It took years of cultural exposure, of education, ofdiscussion and contemplation, for me to first understand and truly accept it,and then take it completely for granted. Even for me, who considers myself tobe an open, curious person, it took a process of intellectual and emotional development.

It’s not something I’m proudof, but it is the reason I see hope in how far we’ve come since the ignorantold days. The more we communicate, the more we expose, the more we share ourexperiences, the more we sift and search and examine our collective psycheslike careful archeologists, the closer we get to true intelligence, to goodness,to enlightenment. (And please don’t point to the bible and say it never refersto same-sex marriage—if in the 1970s we weren’t talking much about it, let’sassume that in the early hundreds it wasn’t really on the radar. Oh, and here’s my favouritequote from the trailer below: “If God doesn't want homosexuals, why does He keepmaking so many?” Amen, indeed.) And the sooner we share our enlightened,accepting knowledge with our children, the easier it is for them to skip allthose awkward growing stages … and get right to the good part.

Deb: This is a brave post, Barb, and I thank you for it. I had onlyrecently heard this story from Barb and sympathized with her adolescent self,struggling with the injustice of it. I had no idea, Barb, that you struggled tounderstand homosexuality and I think it is a testament to who you are that yousought out information. And of course, once you learned what it was, you had noissues at all. The key was learning about it. As a resultof your “les-be-friends” incident it was confusing to you at your young age.Why wouldn’t it be when you knew so little? You set out to find out as much as you could about it and ... you gotthere. That is the crux of this story for me. You were confused about somethingyou didn’t understand and you sought information.

That, for me, is what is missing in bigotry. Bigotsshut their eyes and hate. Bigots close their minds and judge. They don’t seekinformation because, heaven forbid, they should find something reasonable thatwould challenge their immovable stance. It’s fine to not understand. And forthose who gather information and still do not understand, it’s imperative thatthey step back and live and let live.

iBrought An Apple To My Teacher

2012-01-20T08:00:00.000-05:00

Deb: iJust purchased anew Macbook Air, so light iCan balance it on my finger. My old MacBook Prodecided that after six years of faithful service it was time to hang up itshard drive. iKnew this would involve getting to know a new computer fromscratch so iDecided to purchase the $99.00 one-year Apple plan which would tellme everything iNeeded to know about the care and feeding of my new Mac.

Art by Deb's Finger

iHave made this purchase in the past, only to have it go the wayof the gym membership that you pay for and never use. This time, iThought, it’sgoing to be different.

$99.00 is a good deal, but it is now translating into anexcellent deal, the deal of deals, the deal of a lifetime!

The reason is simple. iHave decided that after years ofhandholding and above-the-waist with my various computers that it is time forme and my new Macbook Air to go all the way. iDecided that iAm going to take advantage of every single class Apple has to offer. Every single class. iHave already reaped the benefits from three One To One’s (single class with clientand “Genius” teacher), and with the patient guidance of the various Geniusesassigned to me, have learned the ins and outs of each key, program, application,and symbol my MacBook Air has to offer.

iAm not even daunted by the fact that iHave only retained fortypercent of the info. Hell, iFigure that iAm forty percent smarter about my Mac,so that is win-win. Plus iHave my One toOne site where iCan go for refreshers, tips and videos. Sweet. So iHavechosen to take iPhoto next and iTunes after that! And iWon’t stop until iKnowthis computer inside and out!

iMay have just become Apple’s worst nightmare!

Each young genius assisting me is so patient and so informativethat after the first half hour iWas actually able to stop myself from saying,“Yeah, it’s hard for me because iWasn’t brought up with this.” Or, “We didn’thave computers.” Or, “iLearned to type on a manual typewriter.” And my personalfavourite humiliating statement, “iLearned to write with a fountain pen!” Man,why aren’t the geniuses allowed to slap you or tell you to shut up? But no,they just wait until you finish with your excuses, smile and continue. iHaveno doubt that their lunchroom conversation this day revolved around, “What thefuck is a fountain pen?”

iKnow what you’re thinking, and iShare your concern! What is myhusband going to do now with all that free time? How will he fill his days whenhe no longer has to troubleshoot, fix, download, upload, recall passwords, findpasswords, reset passwords, and find lost documents? iHate to sound callous,but there’s nothing iCan do about that. He is going to have to fend forhimself. He is going to have to find a way to fill all that extra time, readingor playing a video game or watching a movie. i’M sorry but he will just have todeal. And iWill placate and comfort him by reminding him that there are manymore things outside the computer world that iWill still not get and still needhis constant help with. iHope to God that’s enough for him!

Because Mama’s in Apple school! Suddenly it is all about me and my personal set up, personal training,and personal projects. Relationship stuff will just have wait. And when the daycomes that iCan say with some level of conviction the words, “iGet it, iReallyget it!" ... only then, can we resume dinner’s-out and conversations.

Until that time iHave a job to do and iWon’t stop until it’sdone!

Thank you, Apple. iHeart you.

Barbara: Oh gosh, Deb,you are ADORABLE! Or is that uAre??? On top of the laughs I got from this post,I harbour a deep and ingrained jealousy. I envy the students of today, the onesgetting educated, the ones who are opening their consciousness to new and evermore marvelous things. And those of you who, at the end of your school day, canactually apply that knowledge in auseful way—on your COMPUTERS??? Oh, man iWant, iWant, iWant!!

Congrats, Deb, but know I will be aiming secret sidelongglances in your direction, pretending not to but still peering over yourshoulder and trying to copy your homework. Fair warning.

When Many Voices Come Together

2012-01-19T08:00:00.000-05:00

Barbara: Thelast couple of days have been interesting politically. Here in Toronto, thelocal mayor presented a budget that would cut millions of dollars from sacred and beloved social services and arts. Everything from libraries to communitycentres to public pools as wellas arts grants and funding were on the chopping block.

(This reminds me of Colin’sFacebook post yesterday: “Thanks … forthis quote from Ricky Gervais in Esquire: ‘Churchill's advisors once came tohim and said, "We're going to stop all funding for the arts so we can putthat into the war effort.’ And Churchill said, ‘Then what are we fighting for?’EXACTLY!!)

Anyway, here in Toronto, people were outraged, but the mayor pressed on, determined to push thecuts through. Well, the ground shifted in some deep social ocean floor and thepeoples’ voices swelled, and a tsunami of protest washed over the dry hallowsof city council—not destroying it, but drenching it in good, logical,responsible sense—until councilors representing many of the wards in our city didsomething unheard of. Going with the population tidal wave, the majority votedagainst the mayor. As it says in this newspaper article, this was a “stunningrejection”, and if it had “occurred at Queen’s Park or on Parliament Hill, [it]would be considered a vote of non-confidence in the government.” And yet, ithappened. Because so many people voiced their outrage about this mean-spirited budget thatour politicians were compelled to listen and act.

Yesterday, there was a majorinternet blackout (you may have noticed no Wikipedia, no Reddit, no Wordpress,etc) opposing SOPA and PIPA, two proposed American bills that would enforcecopyright laws to such a broad degree that freedom of speech was close to beingforever compromised (…if it's not posted on the internet, does it make a sound?...).

Now Wiki and Reddit andWordpress, etc, are major powers and I wouldn’t just randomly support them.Also, as a writer and film industry veteran, obviously I consider copyright aserious issue. But we are at a crucial time in our history—we are nowdetermining how we develop, how we progress, and how we communicate, and wecan’t just lump our precious freedoms, rights, and innovations together and lock them behind thegates. We need to work toward finding a viable solution that protects both copyright and freedom of speech.

But I'm not an expert here. For me, the moral of the story is this: Wiki and Reddit and Wordpress, etc. would never havebeen able to manifest the kind of political reversal that’s happening as we speak withoutmillions of voices rising with them to protest. Here's what was already happening yesterday. Here's another primer, and here's an article about the new order. Special mention goes to a certain loyal blog reader for her helpful links here and for her concerned phone call to her local Rep. Maybe she'll tell her story in the comments section???

People, you can do amazing things!! Don’t ever forget that you can—and should—speak out.

How To Travel With Friends

2012-01-18T08:00:00.000-05:00

Barbara: Since Deb and I and the boys just got back from our amazing tripto Costa Rica, I thought it might be fun to start a convo about traveling withfriends. I mean, let’s face it: it’s one of those adventures that soundsappealing in theory, but often ends in quasi-comic disaster. We’ve all heardthe stories of a group of friends heading off together to some distant land,only to find their dreams of sun-dappled rest, smart cocktails, andscintillating conversation suddenly morph into nightmares of personalityclashes, mismatched expectations, and money mayhem.

First off, I will say this:Phil and I and Deb and Colin make EXCELLENT travel partners. When the kids wereyounger, we traveled together over several years to ski in Panorama, BC. Mymemories of those trips just burst with giddy laughter, silly game-playing, andsassy cocktail hours.

2005: Zoolander was the movie theme for our first shared Panorama trip:
sun and wind whipped, that's right, we're supermodels...

And the boys? Brandishing "Le Tigre" and "Blue Steel", of course.

So we knew going in that Costa Rica wouldn’t be ruined byunexpected conflict.

But why do we travel so welltogether? I’m afraid mutual love and admiration are not enough when you’re inclose quarters. But here’s what does work:

1. Letthings slide. Go in with a come-what-may attitude and you will evade a LOT of conflict.This is rule #1 for very good reason!

2. Thatsaid, do some planning ahead. Compromise is 9/10s of the law of travel. Likethis:

3. Agree onhow to deal with money matters ahead of time. We split any bills we received(asking the server to accommodate this at the start of our meals) to avoid thatclunky “my turn, your turn” quandary. We also agreed on how much we would tip. Itmay feel a bit awkward at first, but believe me, it’s way less awkward thansuddenly realizing you hate those ungrateful-heathens-formerly-known-as-friendsfor taking such blatant advantage of you or for being such social idjits. Notthat this has ever happened to us, but this seems to be the number one complaintin those nightmare-traveling-with-friends scenarios.

4. Agree onwhat you’re going to do to some degree. Some people look forward to spendingthe week just lying on the beach, some prefer exploring and shopping, some amix of both. If you plan ahead, even just a little, you can avoid thefrustration of either being that guy who’s always bored and disappointed orlistening to that guy who’s always bored and disappointed. The best part ofthis preemptive plan is that some of the divides occur within a couple, so nowindividuals can potentially enjoy more cake whilst also having it as peoplesplit off in diverse groups to do what most appeals to them. This rule appliesto traveling with your kids too, btw. When we go on hot-weather holidays as afamily, Stefanie and I prefer beach, book, and snorkeling, while Phil andMichele go for the diving. Not only does splitting the group allow foreveryone’s tastes to be satisfied, but it gives you great re-cap talks at theend of the day over vacation dinner.

5. Waitingfor others can be a pain. It’s okay to agree to disagree about what time to getup, or eat a meal, or get a drink. This is everyone’s holiday. We would oftenlet happenstance guide us in a “we’re sure we’ll bump into you at some point”kind of way. Even amongst the couples themselves. Phil might decide he wants tosit by the pool instead of waiting in the room while I shower and “beautify”.Deb and Colin might decide they want to get up early and sit by the lodge fireinstead of waiting for us to get our sweet asses out of bed. That kind ofthing.

6. And lastbut not least—and this comes NOT from personal experience, but from sharing aresort week with guests and kinda getting to know them from afar—but try,please please try, not to bicker. Bickering is so … ugly. It sounds petty andfeels irritating. It’s not the Muzak you want in the soundtrack of your trip. Everyresort trip we’ve ever taken has included some version of the BickerMcBickersons. I don’t how they do it, but they manage to suck the light fromthe very equatorial sun itself. While these aren’t my own friends, I’ve feltsad and empathetic for the poor sods forced to travel with them. If you can’tsay anything without bickering, don’t say….yadda yadda.

Now it’s your turn. Any greattips (and/or tales) to add to this list???

Deb: Barb, I think you pretty muchcovered it. All the potentially awkward things were taken care of and that leftit open for relaxing, easy travel.

I do hate the deciding what time breakfast is on atrip, though. I love it, of course, when there is something planned and we canall meet an hour or so before said event to eat and chat with anticipation. Buton the non-scheduled days, I love just saying, “See you at breakfast.” That waythe early birds can go down for coffee and meet the later birds when theyarrive. We did this on our trip and it was perfect. If one couple had eatenthey would join the other for a second or third cuppa. No one felt pressure.

The only thing I do not enjoy on a trip—and we only hadto endure it once (LOL)—is shopping with boys. Boys. Shopping. No. Now, infairness, Phil is not too bad because at least he was interested in maybegetting himself something, although he did say, “Why are you girls going to theclosest shop first? Why not do this shop at the end???” Oh Phil. Poor well-intentioned Phil. Theanswer is that we must “scout”, boys! We must know what is nearest the hotel.In this case, the shop right outside the gates at The Harmony had all thetreasures we could hope for. Had we not “scouted”, we would have spent ourbudgets before we even landed there. Rookie mistake, Phil, rookie mistake.

However, and I say this with love ... compared to myhusband, Phil is one of the Sex and the City girls when it comes to shopping.My husband abhors shopping. Bless him. And the beauty of him is, he does not try to hide it. We went into a verychic men’s shop and Phil looked around at a few things. Colin stood outside.When I poked my head out the door, this is how the convo went:

Me (holding up stunning simple gorgeous fabric T-shirt):“Honey, I am going to buy you this shirt!”

Him: “I don’t want it, thanks. I already have a shirt.”

And so it goes.

Yoga Mat

2012-01-17T08:00:00.000-05:00

This ad has been making the rounds ... and it's so funny, we had to share. We blatantly pulled it from this blog: MindBodyGreen. But then again, they pulled this genuine ad from Craigslist, so we figure it's fair game (the Craigslist ad no longer exists, btw, so we can't link you to the real deal anymore). We bow, however, before the clever (frustrated) yogi who was trying to sell his now redundant mat!

Yoga mat for sale. Used once. - $1 (Bellevue)

Yoga mat for sale. Used once at lunch hour class in December 2009. Usage timeline as follows:

11:45a
Register for hot yoga class. Infinite wisdom tells me to commit to 5 class package and purchase a yoga mat. I pay $89.74. Money well spent, I smugly confirm to myself.

11:55a
Open door to yoga room. A gush of hot dry air rushes through and past me. It smells of breath, sweat and hot. Take spot on floor in back of room next to cute blonde. We will date.

11:57a
I feel the need to be as near to naked as possible. This is a problem because of the hot blonde to my left and our pending courtship. She will not be pleased to learn that I need to lose 30 pounds before I propose to her.

11:58a
The shirt and sweats have to come off. I throw caution to the wind and decide to rely on my wit and conditioning to overcome any weight issues my fiancée may take issue with. This will take a lot of wit and conditioning.

11:59a
Begin small talk with my bride to be. She pretends to ignore me but I know how she can be. I allow her to concentrate and stare straight ahead and continue to pretend that I don't exist. As we finish sharing our special moment, I am suddenly aware of a sweat moustache that has formed below my nose. This must be from the all the whispering between us.

12:00p
Instructor enters the room and ascends her special podium at the front of the room. She is a slight, agitated Chinese woman. She introduces me to the class and everyone turns around to greet me just as I decide to aggressively adjust my penis and testes packed in my Under Armor. My bride is notably unfazed.

12:02p
Since I do have experience with Hot Yoga (4 sessions just 5 short years ago) I fully consider that I may be so outstanding and skilled that my instructor may call me out and ask me to guide the class. My wife will look on with a sparkle in her eye. We will make love after class.

12:10p
It is now up to 95 degrees in the room. We have been practicing deep breathing exercises for the last 8 minutes. This would not be a problem if we were all breathing actual, you know, oxygen. Instead, we are breathing each other's body odor, expelled carbon dioxide and other unmentionables. (Don't worry, I'll mention them later.)

12:26p
It is now 100 degrees and I take notice of the humidity, which is hovering at about 90%. I feel the familiar adorning stare of my bride and decide to look back at her. She appears to be nauseated. I then realize that I forgot to brush my teeth prior to attending this class. We bond.

12:33p
It is now 110 degrees and 95% humidity. I am now balancing on one leg with the other leg crossed over the other. My arms are intertwined and I am squatting. The last time I was in this position was 44 years ago in the womb, but I'm in this for the long haul. My wife looks slightly weathered dripping sweat and her eyeliner is streaming down her face. Well, "for better or worse" is what we committed to so we press on.

12:40p
The overweight Hispanic man two spots over has sweat running down his legs. At least I think its sweat. He is holding every position and has not had a sip of water since we walked in. He is making me look bad and I hate him.

12:44p
I consider that if anyone in this room farted that we would all certainly perish.

12:52p
It is now 140 degrees and 100% humidity. I am covered from head to toe in sweat. There is not a square millimeter on my body that is not slippery and sweaty. I am so slimy that I feel like a sea lion or a maybe sea eel. Not even a bear trap could hold me. The sweat is stinging my eyeballs and I can no longer see.

12:55p
This room stinks of asparagus, cloves, tuna and tacos. There is no food in the room. I realize that this is an amalgamation of the body odors of 30 people in a 140 degree room for the last 55 minutes. Seriously, enough with the asparagus, ok?

1:01p
140 degrees and 130% humidity. Look, bitch, I need my space here so don't get all pissy with me if I accidentally sprayed you with sweat as I flipped over. Seriously, is that where this relationship is going? Get over yourself. We need counseling and she needs to be medicated. Stat!

1:09p
150 degrees and cloudy. And hot. I can no longer move my limbs on my own. I have given up on attempting any of the commands this Chinese chick is yelling out at us. I will lay sedentary until the aid unit arrives. I will buy this building and then have it destroyed.
I lose consciousness.

1:15p
I have a headache and my wife is being a selfish bitch. I can't really breathe. All I can think about is holding a cup worth of hot sand in my mouth. I cannot remember what an ice cube is and cannot remember what snow looks like. I consider that my only escape might be a crab walk across 15 bodies and then out of the room. I am paralyzed, and may never walk again so the whole crab walk thing is pretty much out.

1:17p
I cannot move at all and cannot reach my water. Is breathing voluntary or involuntary? If it's voluntary, I am screwed. I stopped participating in the class 20 minutes ago. Hey, lady! I paid for this frickin class, ok?! You work for me! Stop yelling at everyone and just tell us a story or something. It's like juice and cracker time, ok?

1:20p
It is now 165 degrees and moisture is dripping from the ceiling. The towel that I am laying on is no longer providing any wicking or drying properties. It is actually placing additional sweat on me as I touch it. My towel reeks. I cannot identify the smell but no way can it be from me. Did someone spray some stank on my towel or something?

1:30p
Torture session is over. I wish hateful things upon the instructor. She graciously allows us to stay and 'cool down' in the room. It is 175 degrees. Who cools down in 175 degrees? A Komodo Dragon? My wife has left the room. Probably to throw up.

1:34p
My opportunity to escape has arrived. I roll over to my stomach and press up to my knees. It is warmer as I rise up from ground level - probably by 15 degrees. So let's conservatively say it's 190. I muster my final energy and slowly rise. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Towards the door. Towards the door.

1:37p
The temperature in the lobby is 72 degrees. Both nipples stiffen to diamond strength and my penis begins to retract into my abdomen from the 100 degree temp swing. I can once again breathe though so I am pleased. I spot my future ex wife in the lobby. We had such a good thing going but I know that no measure of counseling will be able to unravel the day's turmoil and mental scaring.

1:47p
Arrive at Emerald City Smoothie and proceed to order a 32 oz beverage. 402 calories, 0 fat and 14 grams of protein -- effectively negating any caloric burn or benefit from the last 90 minutes. I finish it in 3 minutes and spend the next 2 hours writing this memoir.

3:47p
Create Craigslist ad while burning final 2 grams of protein from Smoothie and before the "shakes" consume my body.

4:29p
Note to self - check car for missing wet yoga towel in am.

Rewind ... Snap!

2012-01-16T08:00:00.000-05:00

Deb: Remember in AnnieHall when Woody Allen was trying to win an argument with a pretentious knob inthe movie lineup? In order to put a stop to the inane back and forthing andsecure himself as the winner, Woody casually goes behind a cardboard moviemarquee and guides Marshall McLuhan toward his opponent, whereupon Mr. McLuhanputs said knob in his place.

How many times have we wished for that moment in life? How manytimes have we fantasized that we could call upon irrefutable proof when we aredefending ourselves?

Art by Deb's finger

Last week we endured a huge kafuffle when someone in our livesangrily insisted that I had failed to impart to them some extremely importantinformation, thus causing them undue stress, anger, and fear. They were veryupset and proceeded to tear a strip off of me and three other innocent parties.The people he was dressing down had no idea to what he was referring as theyhad done nothing wrong. They were confident that I had done my part as promisedand yet they were being lectured by this irate person.

The thing is, I haddone my part. I had delivered in detail every piece of essential informationneeded, leaving no stone unturned. But my angry friend would hear none of itand insisted that the conversation had never taken place. I was miffed andfrustrated. It had taken place. ThisI knew. But how to prove it?

Grasping at straws, I glanced around to see if Marshall McLuhanwas maybe waiting for his cue in our powder room or crouched beside our piano,but he wasn’t.

So what does one do when these unfair moments occur?

I will admit that many times a day I may not be able to rememberwhy I came upstairs, or what your name is, but when it comes to importantconversations, I have a mind like a steel trap. As I was being dressed down bythis irate person, all I could see in my mind’s eye was the replay of the exactconversation that had taken place between us. The problem was, only I could seeit.

In the end, I was saved by my husband who piped up that he hadbeen there for the conversation, and that I had indeed imparted every singlemorsel of information. Bless his beak!

But what about the other times when you do not have a trustywitness to jump to your defense? What then?????????

My husband, as I have reported before, often laments the “heinouslie” that was the jet-pack. He was positive that by now he would certainly havehis own jet-pack charging in the garage. He does not give a damn that they havenot cured the common cold. In fact he would be perfectly happy if they wouldgive up trying for a cure and put all their brainpower behind his beloved,unrealized jet-pack.

Me? I want an earring. Just something simple, maybe a tiny goldstud ... but with the ability to instantly playback moments in my life in afull HD 3-D projection that also includes any person I am trying to prove mypoint to.

A sample usage might go this way:

Doctor’s secretary: ”Ms. McGrath, I am going to have to chargeyou for your missed appointment last week.”

Me: “But I called more than 48 hours before and cancelled mytime.”

D.S.: “Sorry, Ms. McGrath, but I have nothing on the record toindicate that.”

Me: ”Well, I called and I spoke to a ‘Diane’ who took themessage.”

D.S.: “Well Ms. McGrath, there is nothing in the record, so...”

Slowly and without emotion, my hand reaches up towards my goldstud and I tap it, ever so slightly. Before you can say Princess Leia, outstreams a tiny projection flowing freely between us, showing clearly and withstereophonic sound, me making the call a full two days before the appointment.The projection ends with “Diane” hanging up the phone, spilling coffee on herdesk, cleaning it up, and resuming her duties, the conversation with me, gonefrom her mind.

I tap the stud. Projection ended. I look the receptionist in theeye, my face neutral, my demeanor calm.

SNAP! BAM! GOTCHA! EAT THIS! SUCK IT!

Oh what joy that would bring. Oh the satisfaction of it. I wouldhave to go home and nap after such a triumph!

Okay, yes, I have allowed myself a generous helping of pettytoday.

But oh ... oh ... ohhhhhhhh, wouldn’t it be swell? Oh the placesI could go. Oh the conversations I could recreate! Oh the points I could make,the proof I could offer.

Now I should say at this point that I am not an obsessively “right”person. By that I mean I do not always have to be right. Far from it. I am thefirst to admit wrongdoing or mistakes and I always apologize immediately andprofusely.

But when I am right, when I have done my due diligence, when Ihave covered my bases to the nth degree and it is denied me in a loud angrytone?...

Where is Marshall McLuhan when you need him?

Barbara: Oh, Deb, this made me laugh so much!! And I knowthe actual situation you speak of because I was there when it was going down. This is so muchmore frustrating than the simple “two different versions of a story” becausethere were real repercussions here. I always like to imagine what would be themost beneficial response to any complicated human shenanigan, but, damn, if Ican’t think of anything else for this sitch. I think you handled it perfectly bysimply stating your case, presenting your defense, and finally letting it go.That said, I LOVE your earring idea. That is by far a more elegant “final word”than anything I could’ve come up with!

Our Costa Rica Gift Of Happiness: Open Letter To Costa Rica And Happy Videos

2012-01-13T20:58:00.000-05:00

Deb and Barbara: As a sign-off to thisblogging week and to our 8-day travel diary of our trip to Costa Rica, we wantto take this chance to just say a few more words.

We said it many times during ourvisit, but we were honestly amazed at just how much effort was being put towardeco-sustainability by Costa Rica in general and the hotels we stayed at inparticular: Arenal Springs Resort earning its 4-leaf status and El Silencio Lodge and Spa andThe Harmony Hotel earning their 5-leaves. Costa Rica obviously prides itself onthese efforts—and the efforts pay off in the abundant wildlife, epic scenery,and pristine beaches that adorn your magnificent country.

However—and this is a big however—please,please keep it up! It could be very easy to embrace eco-tourism as an economicboon, but then cater to the whims of the modern age by mowing down your beautyto make way for roads, hotels, condos, and gallerias. Please resist this commonfailing.

Because it is your wild and diverseeco-systems alongside your environmental triumphs that make your country sovery appealing and unique to the very tourists you want to attract.

Believe us, we know it is and will behard. We are pleading with our current Canadian government to understand andembrace this forward-thinking philosophy, but instead they try to convince usthat tar sands are good and eco-consciousness is baaaaaad. We’re not good withabsolutes, but we will say it here: they are wrong. And if they don’t realizethat soon, they/we will keep destroying this fragile balance in our ownbeautiful and largely wild country.

ForCosta Rica, we hope endless dairy farms won’t replace your forest and jungle,that more medical problems will be solved by the healing secrets in your flora,that you will continue to enlighten and lead the world, that you will show ushow it’s done. And continue to show us that it CAN be done.

On our trip, we met a journalist who told us that fornew development in Costa Rica, the government often doesn’t spend the extramoney necessary to insulate the overhead wires, which can then kill wildlife asa result. If your electrical wires are electrocutingthe monkeys and sloths so characteristic of your wilds, then we hope you willmake the short-term investment necessary to coat those wires that will protectthose creatures and your long-term ecological growth (just like your effortsthat saved the turtles). One of the ironic moments on our trip was watching thehowler monkeys cavort in the trees just above a sign announcing a condodevelopment. Of course, people need places to live and stay, but so do thenative animals—and so far you seem to be serving both needs quite well. Don’tforget, you won’t need all those condos and hotels if you mess too much withthe unique sites tourists come to see. And also, your people won’t be so happy(see the Happiness Index) if their pristine country is overrun (or run) by the superficialneeds of outsiders.

We dearly hope you will continue to charm many many generations of indigenous, local, andinternational guests as you charmed us with your distinctive balance between nature and man. Youhumbled us already. We long to be humbled again and again and again by the courageouspolicies of your country and your heroic nature sentries.

When tourists ask for “a view of the ocean”, whatthey really want in Costa Rica is to preserve “a view of the ocean”. A view ofan ocean that is clean and pristine and untouched. That’s why we came. That’swhy we will come back.

Yours very sincerely, Deb and Barbara

Videos!!!

Thisis from El Silencio Lodge and Spa where Andrey, the eco-concierge, took us on atour of the grounds. We’re sampling organic herbs from their greenhouse garden.

Thisis from the 3-hour hike through the rainforest around El Silencio. Andreyshowed us 3 waterfalls—this one being the largest: La Promesa Falls.

Thisis us during our visit with the Maleku tribe. We are discussing language withJosé, our gracious host.

Turtle Turtle

You can watch as many ofthese videos (or as few) as you like. The first 3 videos are short snippets(between 1 and 2.5 min long) of the turtles emerging from their sandy nest andtrekking down to the sea. Notice how they need to rest along the way!

The last of these videos isthe full journey from nest to sea and runs a cool 10+min. Reader’s choice.

You can still enter for your own Costa Rica Gift of Happiness here!

And a late PS: Please feel free to ask us any questions you might have about our experience. Now we might actually have some time to answer!

Our Costa Rica Gift Of Happiness: Pura Vida!

2012-01-12T22:41:00.000-05:00

Deb and Barbara: “Pura Vida”literally translated means "pure life", but it swings many ways too.For example, "How are you?"..."Pura Vida!" It falls intothe category of all things lovely in feeling and tone and greetings. It holdsits own with the Jamaican "Irie", the Australian "Noworries", or even the Italian "Dolce far niente", which ofcourse means, "How sweet to do nothing”. So this is a tribute to Pura Vida,which was our experience and our heart in Costa Rica. We would like to sharewith you some wonderful random and not so random tidbits from our trip. Somefact, some funny, some silly. And, of course, more photos!

Tico and Tica

Barbara:This is how the Costa Ricans refer to themselves and each other (tico formales, tica for females). What I love about these words—which are used byeveryone here, even officially (as we noted yesterday, the English newspaper iscalled The Tico Times)—is that this got its start because of the common use ofthe suffix-endearment “tico” (or “tica”) on every word. So, on the one hand,it’s kinda like “gentleman” or “woman”, but on the other, it’s a bit like saying“sweetie” all the time. This is a practice after my own heart, sweeties!

Packing for your trip to Costa Rica

Deb: As you all know Ilove clothes and I love a good pack. I think I bragged ad nauseam about mystellar Newfoundland packing. This time I was a tad off the mark. So you won'tbe when you go to Costa Rica, I will share the following tips.

1. Rainforest, asshocking as it may seem, means rain. So make sure you are prepped with layersand rainproof clothing. We were. But ... we did not know that we would need itfor the entire time in the rain/cloud forest. Now, this is not always the case,but ... be prepared. Check the weather! And take good waterproof walking shoes.We lucked out on our tour day, but we only had a drizzle. Others weren’t solucky. Yet it is still delightful if you are prepped and dry.

2. We OVERDRESSED. Bythat I mean too dressy. These were elegant dining rooms and top-of-the-lineservice and quality, but they were also ... Pura Vida ... whatevs! We couldeasily have shown up in khakis and a clean t-shirt and fit right in. So ... nopressure to pack dresses and fancy what-have-yous. Our last hotel, The Harmony Hotel,offered a wash, press, and delivery service for $1.50 a piece. WOW. Bargoon, Iam thinking.

Barbara:These are the clothes I would most recommend for a multi-ecosystem Costa Ricanstay: 2 light-weight sweaters (for layering), 1 hoodie-type sweatshirt, 1 lighthooded raincoat, several t-shirts, several tank tops, 2 long pants, 1 paircasual shorts and 1 pair capris, 1 casual skirt, 1 sundress, 1 lightweightscarf, 1 or 2 sunhats, 1 pair comfy walking shoes that can be hosed off, 1 pairwater sandals, 1 pair nice sandals, 1 travel shirt (for return trip), bathingsuit(s) and cover-up. Of course, don’t forget the sunscreen and bug spray! Manyhotels in the rainforests will lend you wellies for your hiking, but these areonly necessary if the rain is really heavy or the trail really muddy (the rainwe had when we were at El Silencio was more of a mist and their trails verywell maintained; we were fine with our rubber-soled Mary-Janes and runningshoes).

Barbara insisted on this photo -- so impressed was she with the lack of mud on our shoes after the rainy hike! Never be afraid of a rainy hike. Magical.

Is Costa Rica safe?

Barbara:Don’t let people scare you into thinking Costa Rica is unsafe or scary. We sawno signs of crime nor did we hear any untoward stories. The people here are sovery decent and proud. They are helpful to and respectful of each other. Oneexample: we were stopped on a roadway because of construction and our driverrolled down his window and extended his bottle of water to the worker manningthe stop-and-go. The worker—who was baking in the hot sun—gratefully accepted.It’s a small gesture, maybe, but typical in its gentle kindness. Of coursethere must be crime here—these are still people after all, with all our foiblesand failings. But we never ever worried about our safety … because there wasnothing to worry about. Consider also that Costa Rica is the leader on the Happiness Index and maybe you can understand that crime is less an issue here thanelsewhere.

As for food and water: thewater has been safe for a long time, but all of our resorts purified theirwater in ecological ways. We already described the water at El Silencio asbeing filtered for sediment and then purified with ultra-violet light. This issound practice for destroying harmful microorganisms. We drank the tap water,baby, and never got sick (or felt even “off”). And I have a notoriouslysensitive stomach.

Shopping in Costa Rica

Deb: Regards shopping. And this appliesto our experience ONLY. We shopped at the Maleku tribe (without pressure) fortiny lovely handmade items! I bought one for me and one for the boy and hisgirl because I wanted them to have bracelets that were eco-friendly andauthentic to the Maleku tribe, and to help the tribe out financially.

Whenwe got to The Harmony Hotel, there were lovely, wonderful, chic, local handmadeitems in every shop in the minutes-away village. Our favourite shop was justoutside the gates of our lovely Harmony Hotel. It is called BAZZAAR and it wasso chic and bursting that we managed to pick up a few wonderful items that Ialready treasure. Barb and I fell in love with similar rings (different shapesand slightly different colours), but reflecting our own sizes and tastes. Welove these rings because they symbolize our friendship and bond on this tripand will serve as a wonderful memory for us.

The areas we visited

Barbara:We realized too late that we didn’t really describe for you the specific areaswhere our hotels were located. El Silencio Lodge and Spa was located about 1 ½hours north(ish) of Juan Santamaria International Airport (a very modernairport, btw) in the Central Volcanic Valley and is flanked by 2 national parks(and its own extensive reserve). The closest town is Sarchi.

Arenal Springs Resort andSpa (at posting time, I could not link to this hotel, stay tuned) is on the opposite side of the volcano from La Fortuna (the nearest town),but this is a mere 15-minute drive. There are many hotels in this ‘hood, butthey are all discreetly hidden amid the forest.

And The Harmony Hotel is inthe Nosara area—an area known for its amazing surfing and charming little townsand shops. Nosara is on the Pacific coast in the Guanacaste area (the warm,dry, golden coast) at about the halfway mark. Again, everything here is stillpretty discreet, with no high-rises or massive condos. On the beach itself, yousee virtually no sign of development. Hopefully, it stays this way! My husbandis an avid diver, but it looks like you need the reef-filled waters of thePapagayo area (about 2-3 hours north of Nosara) for that. It might be partly dueto the surfer ‘tude of the coastal towns or could be thanks to the Costa Ricantraditional cooking around rice and beans, but Costa Rica is a perfectdestination for vegetarians and vegans—tons of culinary choice for you!

Costa Rican Spanish

Deb: One of our favourite parts of thetrip—which also became our running gag—stemmed from a book Barb gave me onSpanish language travel. When I got to the part about love and sex my day wasmade and the theme for our trip was established. The following is an excerptfrom the book:

YOUCANNOT MAKE THIS STUFF UP! “DON'T WORRY, I'LL DO IT MYSELF”!!!!

Wesquealed and delighted and the theme of the trip became, "Easy, tiger!" We now wish we had executed it Spanish-style, a la "Suave, tigre” (swa-ve tee-gre), which we will henceforth adopt. We were searching for a replacementfor, "That's what she said" and we think we have found it!!!!

Bugs

Barbara: Funny thing … yeah,there are mosquitoes and other bugs, but we had so little problem with them. Wehiked the rainforest, wandered the herb garden, horseback rode through forestand along beach, and have little pain to show for it. We used bug spray at theMaleku reserve because José cautioned us it would be mosquito-filled. So wedid. But we forgot to spray on our horseback ride. We did feel bites, but themosquitoes here seem to take only tiny morsels and leave the teeniest spots,which do itch for about an hour and then … nothing. Weird. I would stillrecommend spray as a precaution, but we were shocked at how rarely we used itor needed to use it.

Driving times in Costa Rica

Deb: Another tip wecan offer to those making plans to head to Costa Rica is about the drive times.Do not be fooled by the kilometer mileage. Keep in mind the 60mph restrictions,slow trucks, and winding roads. Give yourselves true time, sit back and enjoythe scenery and the ride. Our trips were made much easier by Barb's nut andchocolate-rosebud bag of goodness! Thank you, Barb. Of course, I sat on arosebud and had chocolate bud-prints on arrival at Juan Santamaria airport.Barb joined me in the loo and scrubbed it off––"Suave, tigre!"––Seehow that works? Now you can play!

Recognizing Colin

Barbara: Afew of you wondered if Colin was approached by many tourists on our trip. Wetold you some stories, but kinda forgot the funniest part—he was often (veryoften) recognized by local Costa Ricans! I had no idea they got Whose Linehere. I will also add that—apart from a gaggle of giggling local teens whopassed us during our horseback riding tour—the tico/tica fans were so discreetthat we had NO idea they knew him … until after our tour or meeting when theyoffered him a gentle thank-you for the wonderful gift of laughter he gave themover the years. Colin, of course, was his usual gracious self during theseencounters.

Thank you!

Deb: We were each given a "Gift ofHappiness" water bottle when we arrived at El Silencio as part of ourpackage, but we had no idea until we read the "fine print"—in thiscase, a good thing—what a gift it really is.

Andto The Harmony Hotel where we ate such gorgeous meals (choosing to eat at thehotel every night because the food and service kept calling us back), and wherewe had wonderful bamboo massages, and front desk service with such elegantlaidback style—thank you. You offered free Sustainability Tours of the hoteland the garden. Who does that? People who have nothing to hide, I guess. Peoplewho are proud of their job and their life and are eager to share it with theworld.

Thatis what we saw and what we experienced. I should say at this point that NO ONEfrom the Costa Rica Tourism Board on down asked us for anything in return orhad any mandate whatsoever. They did not ask us to blog or to censor ourselvesin any way if we did choose to blog.

Theygave us a gift. We accepted and now we are giving one back. I guess the biggestcompliment we can give to our hosts is ... we will be back. And we will sendlikeminded souls to you. You will continue to do what you do ... Pura Vida.

Barbara: A huuuuuge thank you to all our hosts, to the hotels and staff, to theCosta Rica Gift of Happiness, and to all those involved in making our trip sucha stunning success.

Colourful ox-cart at Espiritu Santo Coffee Mill.

Plantains (which are fried and featured in every tipico meal).

More great goodies thanks to Costa Rica Gift of Happiness and El Silencio Lodge and Spa.

Hiking tour of El Silencio -- and staring in wonder at a Jurassic era fern.

Colin helping with the tree planting at El Silencio.

Yup, we totally represented those ubiquitous tech geeks who spend their holiday on their computers. We did it for you!

José of the Maleku tribe pointing out the iguana skin on the tribal drum.

Rigoberto, tribal chief, showing us how they wrap the fish in leaves for cooking (and which we later ate).

Deb best capturing just how bitter this herb was that Rigoberto had us sample.

Pretty shoes in the mud!

Meilyn showing us the red stain on her hands.

All of us on our wonderful day.

Interesting signage at Arenal Springs Resort and Spa.

And fun signage. The first regulation had us tittering for a while...

...And prompted flagrant rule-breakers Barbara and Phil from playing out a little under-water "love scene".

Yup, happy.

Yup, her too.

Beautiful gardens at The Harmony Hotel.

Beautiful flowers.

Fun at dinner at El Silencio.

Fun at lunch with the Maleku.

All of us driving from Arenal to the Harmony. Our most excellent driver, José, gamely put up with our antics.

Anniversary night!

The pristine beach near The Harmony Hotel in one direction...

...And the other.

Deb, Barbara, and Phil just really liked this shot.

Happy setter clearing the beach of birds.

We could never decide which of the two adorable shots we had of little Lucerno to post. Pic #2.

Another delicious breakfast at The Harmony Hotel.

And lunch (soft chicken tacos and grilled fish wrap. Those gorgeous beverages? Healthful -- and virgin -- elixirs at the Harmony. Soooo yummy.

This is fried red snapper, sautéed kale and carrots, and boiled yucca with roasted garlic at the Harmony. It was divine.

Barbara's gentle friend, Marta.

Getting into the mood right before our bamboo massages at the Harmony.

Wet but happy. (... Suave, tigre.)

Home Safe And Sound!

2012-01-11T23:07:00.001-05:00

Hello all!

We have arrived after a looooooong day of travel. Up at 6, then a 5-hour drive to San José, then a newspaper interview (The Tico Times), then a hurried lunch, then the airplane. We totally meant to write a catch up post today sometime, but ran out of steam, time, and internet connections. But we promise you some fun facts and more photos for tomorrow afternoon and then the amazing turtle videos on Friday!

Thank you all for your wonderful comments throughout our week. We loved hearing from you––and it was especially nice to welcome a few new regulars to our comments' section (hey, Glenda of Costa Rica!). See you tomorrow!!

xo Deb and Barbara

Our Costa Rica Gift Of Happiness: Day 7, Turtles On A Mission

2012-01-10T23:07:00.001-05:00

Deb: Just when we thoughtthe trip couldn’t get any better, we were told by our concierge that there wasto be a turtle hatching in Playa Ostional Wildlife Refuge this morning and thatwe could go and experience this wonderful hatching in person. We set out at5:50am! Yup.

We were in transit withEliot and Mindy, a lovely couple from Allentown, N.Y., who proved to be fun,kind, and interesting people. After a half-hour drive, we arrived at the oceannursery in time to see the little turtles poking their little turtle heads outof the sand. We fell instantly in love. Just to give you perspective, they areno bigger than the palm of my hand.

Volunteers lined the shoredigging sandy paths for the turtle sojourn and keeping predators at bay. Vulturescircled and lurked (as vultures are wont to do), but to no avail. The humansrallied to the tiny turtles’ defense as they made their way to the sea. Sometoo weak or tired died along the way and volunteers buried them in the sand.But oh … the ones who made the trek were little champions, instinctively movingtoward the tide that would carry them out to their ocean home to start thesecond part of their minutes long life.

I really do not have thewords to express how sweet, how moving, how humbling, how miraculous it was tosee nature at its complicated best. It is something the four of us will neverforget as we rooted for our wee charges.

Barbara: It’s so true: wordscan’t really capture how extraordinary this experience was for us. Not just theactual reality of witnessing it, but even the anticipation before we went. WhenI was growing up, my dad preferred documentaries to regular TV—much to myadolescent dismay—but all those episodes of Wild Kingdom and NationalGeographic specials must have winnowed their way into my soul because I’vebecome an adult wildlife documentary geek. So after years of watching docs onturtles, I was completely verklempt at the possibility of watching anhonest-to-goodness hatching and water “migration” in real life.

These little hatchlings—andthe gorgeous photos (thanks, Phil!) do not capture how truly tiny andvulnerable they really are (I mean their heads are about the size of the tip ofmy baby finger!)—emerge once a month (their parents having journeyed here tolay their eggs on the full moon nights) to make the treacherous journey fromnest to sea.

The turtles are considereddelicacies and were once fished almost to extinction until about 25 years agowhen they became protected by the Costa Rican government. After these measureswere taken, their numbers did rise sharply, although it seems they’ve recentlyplateaued—probably due to the changing acidity of the seawaters (hello, globalwarming). It does bear reminding each other that conservation methods DO work.So well, in fact, that the locals are now allowed to take a certain number ofeggs each month for breeding (to eat).

By the way, these are OliveRidley turtles, but leatherbacks and greens also nest here. Volunteers ward offpredators as they aim for the water (and we 4 guarded our fair share ofhatchlings this morning), but the real epic travail comes once they make itthrough the waves into the open water because they must skim the surface for 5days before they can submerge to safer depths. Sharks and seabirds and fishawait these tasty, helpless treats. Sadly a mere one out of every thousandturtles makes it through alive. Which is why we need to protect the babies onat least the first part of their precarious journey.

The babies that emerge after9am can be scorched due to the heat off the sand, so volunteers gather theselater hatchlings and put them into pails of water, protecting them from the sununtil about 5pm. At this point, they’re released from the nesting area to findtheir way into the sea. We were told two theories for why they need to bereleased from the higher sands: 1, that they may need to build their musclestrength and coordination before they hit the water, and 2, (most likely) thatthey need to tune into the Global Nesting Position, or GNP (um, okay, I justmade that up), during the trek to the sea in order to key into where they willone day be returning to nest. Which will be in 15 years. One volunteerdescribed the amazing experience of helping National Geographic’s yearly turtlecount during the time when thousands of turtles arrive on a full-moon night(sometime in June or July) bearing fluorescent seaweed on their backs, thenwading to shore, nesting with audible outtakes of breath (like loud sighs),eyes literally weeping, and then loudly and rhythmically drumming the sand overthe eggs with their fins. So there’s my next wish-list ecological adventure!

Phil: It’s a good thing wehumans don’t have to endure the same right of passage as these poor seaturtles. Just imagine babies dropping onto the floor of the maternity ward andhaving to somehow make their way home on their own. We’d be extinct by now.Looking at these tiny little turtles through the lens of my camera, it struckme how alone they are with no one to guide them.

Colin: It’s like getting artfunding in Toronto. Ba doom ba!

But all joking aside, it wasan amazing display of fortitude and courage.

Deb: We set our hearts andcompasses on one little turtle who I named Tico. I cannot honestly say that thegroup sanctioned that. However, we followed this feisty little fellow frombirth to sea, tracking his every crawl, and it was so heartwarming. He was amover and a shaker, turtley speaking. On a mission was this little guy. He hitthe sea like a pro.

But our last little turtle(who we named Scott, for Ridley Scott) sadly had more than his share ofchallenges. He slept in and as a result missed the high tide. His best effortswere thwarted by the receding waters and our friend, Mindy, finally lifted histiny self up, fins flapping, and carried him out to sea. As we left, we werehoping and praying that one of our little guys will be that one in a thousand.

Barbara: In other news, wehad a glorious last day here by the pool, eat eat eating and sipping healthfultonics. Deb, Barbara, and Phil finished the day with 90-minute bamboo massages.Deb’s massage turned into two hours. Colin did not want to partake. As he said,“After ten minutes, massage irritates me.” We finished our time here withanother delicious Costa Rican meal and a lovely Chilean red and are now goingto bed, happy and rested. A big thank you to the heavenly Harmony Hotel!

PS For those of you who wantmore info about our hotels or tours or experiences here in Costa Rica, you canfind the links by clicking on any of our posts that feature bolded blue typeface.This different typeface always indicates a corresponding link!

Deb and Barbara: In the nextfew days we’re going to post videos of our trip that were too tough to downloadhere, including wonderful footage of Tico, Scott, and their buddies as theyfought the odds. So please stay tuned for that.

You can still enter to winyour own Gift of Happiness here at the Facebook site.

At the Turtle Reserve -- full moon setting....

...as the sun rises. Volunteers gather.

Eggshells litter the beach. A lone vulture lurks.

Phil taking video.

On the drive home with Mindy and Eliot, we see a tree full of monkeys!

Walking (and shopping) the little town outside The Harmony.

Lunch! (tuna poke, mmmmm)

Our Costa Rica Gift Of Happiness: Day 6, Harmony Hotel And Horseback Riding

2012-01-09T23:39:00.000-05:00

Deb: Never has a hotel beenso aptly named. It truly reflects grounded peace, decadent service, and thecradling of our planet. We were awed when we walked through the door. The greeting,both human and earthly, was simple green elegance.

Colin: I burnt my feet. Whycan’t I remember to put sunblock on the tops of my feet? WHY???

Barbara: Both El Silencioand The Harmony evoke this new ideal I’ve discovered of the “hotel experience”.It’s not just about sleeping comfortably and eating well (both of which we’vedone to an utmost degree here), but about embracing a true eco-livingexperience. At El Silencio, it was the 3-hour hike through the rainforest. Hereit was the 3-hour horseback ride on the beach and through a nature reserve,spying birds, monkeys, more quati, and an armadillo. Not to mention the 3-hourwalk along the beach first thing this morning, traveling across 8 kilometers ofpristine sand and water at low-tide.

Deb: The Harmony offers afree “sustainability tour” and “garden tour” where the guests learn up-close howmuch they respect their environment and use/re-use every single amenity theypossess. It not only encourages you to do the same, it makes you wish thatevery hotel offered a similar experience. Because the truth is, despite environmentalconsciousness, we are lacking for nothing here.

Barbara: We have outdoorshowers off the back of our rooms—I know I said it before, but can I justemphasize again how utterly delicious it is to wash yourself clean in the warmfresh air, looking at lush greenery during the day (above the privacy fence),or at the stars at night.

Colin: I think I showeredwith one of you today.

Phil: It was me, Colin. Theysay everyone sounds great when they sing in the shower. Not true.

Barbara: Oh, and PS, theprivate gardens also have a hammock! Yup, there we were last night, Phil and Iin our hammock calling across to Deb and Colin in their hammock, “Can you see Cassiopeia?!There’s the Big Dipper!”

Deb: And … the sexy factor?Through the roof!

Phil: After 3-hours ofhorseback riding, I have calluses where no man should have calluses.

Barbara: But we saw a sunsetthat rivals my best memories of sunsets. The pics are great—but they don’tquite capture the fire-orange and deep red that saturated the sky.

Deb: I had not been on ahorse since I was ten (during my one year of lessons) and Colin has never beenon a horse. Barb and Phil have done it many times! And yet, God bless myhusband, there he was, out in front all on his own. His horse had plans for himand those plans included seducing him into the world of horseback riding. Eventhough at one point his horse lost his footing and Colin almost lost his lunch.

Colin: Only through myexpert horsemanship and the fact that my soiled pants glued me to the saddledid I not fall to my certain death.

Barbara: All this to say, wehad another awe-inspiring day filled with gentle adventure and utter beauty. Ican’t sigh off without mentioning the food again—the food here is sublime.Fresh and complex, familiar and yet unusual, local, with a twist. The Harmonyknows its way around a meal!

Deb and Barbara: Don't forget you can still enter to win your own Gift of Happiness here--the site is now over 100,000 strong! Tomorrow we havesomething very special coming up for you—stay tuned!!

So many of our meals have been authentic Costa Rican, but each place gives it its own twist.

To the left: the pool. To the right: our rooms.

Cowgirl Deb.

Our genial guide, Juan.

Our Costa Rica Gift Of Happiness: Day 5, Arenal to Nosara

2012-01-09T10:10:00.000-05:00

Deb: We would love to startout day five by thanking our gracious hosts at Arenal Springs Resort and Spa.The Arenal Volcano view from our room was already worth the price of admission.The lovely soak in the thermal hot springs at the hotel was only topped by thecocktails we had as we bellied up to the wet bar. Literally, wet bar, as wesipped and giggled through our “Sex on the Volcano” and “Guaro Sours”.

Colin: I did not giggle. AndI thought it was lovely that Deb was in the pool this time without her shoeson.

Phil: But she did bring herpurse.

Deb: We went down for dinnerafter our spectacular day and all had a dinner tipico, which means a typicalCosta Rican meal. We were, as we had been the night before, the focus of a longtable of college-aged girls who kept staring and giggling in our generaldirection.

Phil: We deluded ourselvesinto thinking that they did not recognize Colin but were wondering who werethese handsome men at the next table.

Barbara: At which point I toldPhil to get over himself. (we’re kidding!)

Deb: As it turned out, thegirls did recognize Colin and were tickled to death to have a group photo withhim. They are a lovely bunch of college gals from Little Rock, Arkansas here inCosta Rica for a soccer tournament.

Barbara: Friends or yours,Rigel? (again, just kidding)

Deb: The morning startedearly with a wonderful buffet breakfast. Have we mentioned the food lately?WOW. Everywhere. Wow. Road-side stops. Wow. Hotels. Wow. Good food, CostaRica!!!

Barbara: After breakfast, wewere picked up by our driver, José (not the same José as before, btw) who wastaking us from Arenal to the coast—and to our next hotel, The Harmony inNosara. José, as with every other driver we’ve had, was charming and sincere. Areal (young) gentleman who spoke perfect English and who offered us fascinatingtidbits of Costa Rican lore.

And what a drive! Deb didwell, in case anyone is wondering (she went Gravol commando—au naturel—and satin the front for the windy bits). The drive was long—a good five hours—but wepassed through some absolutely stunning scenery. We watched the volcano recedeafter slowly emerging from the clouds for the first time since our arrival, andfound ourselves in the deep lush forest, which for the most part is protectedfrom development, that surrounds the gorgeous (and huge) Lake Arenal. On ourdrive we saw large families of white-nosed quati (a member of the raccoonfamily) scrounging for lunch and greeting the tourists. So sweet!

This drive really cementedmy conviction that Costa Rica can hardly be called a “third world country”anymore. We have now crossed hundreds of miles of country and everywhere we go,the towns and roadsides are spotlessly clean and beautiful. Every economicreality seems to be reflected in the homes, but the difference is, house-prideis unilateral. Every garden and yard is neat, with no garbage, and with somekind of spotless porch oriented for the best view. There is no sign of crime, althoughit must exist. Maybe in the big cities, and certainly more of the petty naturethan anything else. And more importantly, poor live beside rich, fancy homebeside modest. Literally side by side. I have rarely seen this kind ofcommunity openness.

Deb: After a few hours’drive, we got to the canyon. We looked at the area with some familiarity—andthen realized the mountains looked like the opening credits from Mash (the onlything missing was the helicopter): dry, clay-coloured landscape, the green mixedwith stunning gnarled leafless trees.

Barbara: We finally arrivedat The Harmony Hotel––

Deb: Intake of breath:paradise. Outtake of breath.

Barbara: ––This is an oasissettled not far from the beach (the area right on the beach here is protectedas a turtle habitat).

Colin: For turtle poking.

Barbara: We wasted no timegetting changed into bathing suits and running down the short, sandy path tothe OCEAN!!!!! Oh my. It is miles and miles of creamy sand, crashing waves(just thick with surfers waiting to catch the next wave), and sun sun SUN!!

A Side-Barb: Today is Deband Colin’s ANNIVERSARY!!!! Sing it with me: Happy anniversary, happyanniversary, happy anniversary, happy anniversary, happy anniversary!! 23 yearsof wedded bliss. And we get to share the day/night with them (well, not thenight-night, but you know what I mean). We are just now heading off to ourprivate garden showers (you read that right—private outdoor showers!!!) to getready for dinner and a relaxing evening of celebration! For our dear friends,for friendship, for Costa Rica.

PS while internet wasworking fine on our arrival, we haven’t had any luck in the “after hours”, sothis was not posted at dinner on Jan 8 as was intended. Instead we are going tobed (after our spectacularly delicious dinner), post unposted, and hoping it goes up in the morning!

Colin being sweetly approached by college athletes

Arenal Volcano from our room at Arenal Springs Resort

The view of Arenal from the road.

On the road: White-nosed quati

Awesome chicken tacos on the road

The pool at The Harmony Hotel: Paradise!

The beach!!!

Enjoying the anniversary dinner! (Phil apologizes for the grainy shots here; he was using the iPhone for the dinner shots--low light -- and our not-excellent water-proof digital for the beach shots)

Our Costa Rica Gift Of Happiness: Day 4, Arenal Springs Resort And The Maleku Tribe

2012-01-08T00:41:00.000-05:00

Barbara: Today we had a mostextraordinary experience. We were picked up at our hotel by José, a charmingand dignified member of the Maleku tribe. He promptly drove us an hour from ourhotel to a small enclave populated by his indigenous people.

As tourists being hosted bythe Costa Rica Tourism Board, you can imagine that we expected a possiblyslanted, “tourist-friendly” (by that I mean possibly cheesy or pandering to tourists)experience, but this was as authentic an experience as we have ever had in ourextensive traveling lives. We actually now bow even deeper to our gracioushosts, the Costa Rica Tourism Board, who had the great ideal of sharing with usnot just a “fun” adventure, but something truly spiritual and meaningful.Something—there’s no better word for it, even though I said italready—authentic.

This Maleku tribe,400-strong in this region, but populating Costa Rica in several areas and among7 other indigenous tribes, lives in a small, re-naturalized area in CentralCosta Rica. We were honoured to be welcomed by one of their chiefs, Rigoberto Lacayolipy,by our driver and host, José Moralos Martinez, and by his wife, Jenny LacayoElrzondo, and their young son and niece, Hanzel and Meilyn consecutively. Joseoffered us Maleku-style hot chocolate—which is cocoa steeped in hot water, nosweeteners. It is completely different from anything we’re used to, and yetutterly delicious. Bitter and deep like coffee, but not as bitter and morecomplex. José told us that the young tribal members have rejected this ancestralbeverage in favour of the over-sweetened and artificial drinks we find in everysupermarket around the world. But they are trying to bring this traditionaldrink back. And I’m telling you, it deserves its hallowed place.

José’s wife, Jenny, then broughtus yucca pancakes fried in salt and oil and drizzled with homemade honey,presented on handmade plates lined with banana leaves. Soooo delicious! Joséexplained that the Maleku like their hot chocolate unsweetened while they eat asweet treat with it. I will not soon forget this culinary delight!

While we enjoyed this treat,we were joined by a young Peace Corps volunteer, Biiftu Aba-Jebel (native toNew York and one of the most beautiful, radiant young women we’ve ever met), whoacted as our translator. José sat with us and we engaged in a lengthy, in-depthdiscussion of the Maleku and indigenous experience in Costa Rica, and how thetribes and the local governments are now trying to work together to increasethe environmental responsibility that is so cherished by the Costa Ricans, balancedby the cultural retribution necessary to the native people. This was anintelligent, thoughtful and low-key sharing of a personal experience. We wereawed and humbled by these amazing people. And by the courtesy of the CostaRican people for sharing it with us.

Deb: This conversation wasvery much a give-and-take of the environmental responsibilities that our ownNorth American countries lack (and/or take for granted). Environmental issuesare so at the forefront of the Costa Rican thinking—and we were prettyembarrassed that our own country only scratches the surface in this regard,never mind taking a serious stance. At this point, we should remind you thatCosta Rica is third in the WORLD for environmental responsibility.

After the snacks anddiscussion, Rigoberto, the tribal chief and José’s father-in-law, took us on atour of the extensive gardens. He asked us as a group to decide who would takethe ceremonial walking stick through the gardens. We all looked at each other,not wanting to jump at it because, after all, we’re all polite Canadians. Colinsuggested that it might mean the most to me. Everyone agreed. I picked it up,thrilled to have the honour, daunted for a second by the weight of it, and then,humbled, I carried on. Proudly.

The garden is intermingledwith the local rainforest, replete with every kind of healing herb and plantindigenous to this region: lemon verbena, ginger, oregano, anise, an anestheticherb we don’t know the English name of, stevia, lemon grass, a bark that helpsdiabetes, cat’s claw, etc. He gave us a sample of each plant, encouraging us totaste it, smell it, feel it.

Near the end of our walk, heshowed us a vine that cured his asthma. After years of suffering and tryingevery medicine available to no avail, he was told by doctors that he would haveto live with asthma for the rest of his life. Then his son brought him thisvine after finding it on a mountaintop. Rigoberto steeped the leaves to make astrong tea and drank the tea 3 times a day for 8 days. His asthma was cured.And this was 11 years ago. He offered this herbal remedy to fellow villagerswho were also suffering from asthma. They asked him what payment was required.He said all he wanted was to know if the remedy worked for them. To date, 7asthma sufferers have been cured.

During this walk, we weretold there was a sloth in the vicinity, but sadly it was an elusive sloth.However, we did see the tracks of a small wild cat—and its abandoned kill of awild bird right in the middle of our path. So our pursuit of the sloth fallsunder the category of Where’s Waldo, and we remain undaunted in our pursuit.

Barbara: After this amazingwalk, we returned to the main hut and were offered a truly delicious meal offresh-water fish steamed in banana (and other) leaves and several differentroot vegetables. Wow, just soooo delicious and satisfying. To quench ourthirst, they gave us a sweet local iced lemonade that was to-die.

Colin: This day was lovelyin its simplicity—the entire day. It was one culture learning about anotherculture. And being incredibly jealous that they’re better than us.

Phil: I had no realexpectations of what the day was going to be like, and perhaps went in with mymind completely open as a result, and despite the tremendous language barrierthroughout the one-hour plus drive, and the initial hour prior to Biiftuarriving, (and while I can decipher some basic Spanish, you have to know thatthe Maleku tribal dialect is completely different than Costa Rican Spanish) wewere all able to communicate with each other as equals and as friends. Perhapsour leaders can learn something from this.

Deb and Barbara: For anyoneinterested in visiting the Maleku tribe, we encourage this experience forseveral reasons: it is an authentic experience, it’s fascinating, and it opens oureyes to other people’s way of living. If you want to study and investigate thearea and local medicinal plants, the tribe will help you do this. As well, Josétells us there are several other indigenous tribes who will welcome and informyou—you can contact the Costa Rica Tourism Board or local travel agencies. Orwe suggest you cut out the middleman by contacting José’s community directly:José Morales Martinez email: jmjulio115@yahoo.com;or phone: 8731-4997.

Kisses and hugs to thechildren, Meilyn and Hanzel and Winky the dog, our sweet puppy companion.

As a farewell to us, Rigobertosaid that they loved having us and were sad to see us go. We responded bysaying that it was not only one of the great days of our trip, but one of thegreat days of our lives.

Driving to the Maleku reserve

The meeting hut

A young pup took a shine to Phil--left his doggy tattoo on Phil's shirt!

Beverage cups made from fruit husks.

Yucca pancakes! Mmmmm.

Sipping hot chocolate. Mmmm.

The venerable walking stick.

Rigoberto, tribal chief and "medicine man".

Tasting and smelling the beneficial herbs.

The cocoa pod.

Lunch. Mmmm.

Mmmm.

Winky, the 6-month old pup (and Phil's new best friend).

Meilyn and Hanzel

With Biiftu and José (in red shirt).

In the end, we decided to gift our 6 soccer balls and school supplies to the Maleku tribe. We found ourselves with a chance to not only give them to a community that need them, but to one with whom we had an amazing personal connection. It's still Packing For a Purpose. And we still support and encourage their organization and affiliates!

Our Costa Rica Gift Of Happiness: Day 3, Part Two

2012-01-06T23:13:00.000-05:00

Deb and Barbara: This is our "wonky" day: we traveled from El Silencio to Arenal Springs Resort and Spa––and, yes, Deb took another Gravol against her better judgment. Okay, if only someone had told her that the winding road lasted for 3 miles and then straightened out for the rest of the trip, she might not have shamed herself. However, upon reflection, the combination gave us the best laughs of the trip thus far (see photos for proof).

PS Many profuse thanks to our genial hosts at El Silencio for a superb 5-star/leaf stay!!

En route between El Silencio and Arenal Springs, we stopped at an iguana reserve established by the owner of this restaurant to protect the majestic creatures (plus Deb needed to pee).

He says they call him "Papa Iguana".

The rust colouring is a mating call. He waggles that impressive chin to attract the ladies (rivalling Colin's gelatinous basket).

There were literally hundreds of iguanas in the trees (they eat leaves––not humans, although Deb was not entirely convinced of this truth, high on Gravol as she was.)

We thought Deb was fine at this point--although we should have suspected something was up as she wasn't talking.

Yup, there it is. (This moment brought to you by Gravol.)

We arrived at Arenal Springs in the afternoon––too late for further excursions. However, the hotel had other plans... bottle is empty now, display has reverted to a crumpled towel on the floor. Thanks, Arenal Springs Resort and Spa!

The view from our adjoining hotel rooms. Under all that cloud cover in the distance is one of the ten most active volcanoes in the world. Sitting on the porch here was warm and tranquil as we watched gorgeous birds flit by.

Checking out the grounds.

Although you can't tell from this picture, Deb has just unwittingly walked right into the pool, thinking it was a path to the sushi bar. Feet are soaked, but WARM, as the water is fed by thermal hot springs.

More tomorrow after we come back from our hike and tribal ceremony! Can't wait!! Costa Rica is truly clean, safe, beautiful and diverse. A paradise. We're eating the salad and drinking the water. The drives have been breathtaking. The people friendly and helpful and kind. Woo-hoo!!

Our Costa Rica Gift Of Happiness: Day 3, In Transit

2012-01-06T12:22:00.001-05:00

We're just getting ready to head to Arenal Springs, but thought we'd post some more shots of the wonderful food and fun of El Silencio before we leave. Mmmmm.

Bread basket

Trout tartare

Pumpkin and ginger soup

Fresh pasta with chicken

Homemade gnocchi with fresh tomato sauce

Chicken with blackberry and cassava chips

Cafe crema

Our Costa Rica Gift Of Happiness: Day 2, El Silencio Lodge And Spa

2012-01-05T17:59:00.001-05:00

Barbara: Deb mentioned inthis morning’s comment that there was a small warm fuzzy surprise in our bedslast night—Phil literally jumped out of the bed when he felt first a tail-like protuberance,followed by a warm, gelatinous mass.

Colin: This had nothing todo with my basket—let me just get that out of the way.

Phil: I’ve seen Colin’sbasket—and gelatinous is one way to describe it.

Barbara: Okay, boys, let mefinish: the “mass” was none other than a delightfully warm squishy hot waterbottle encased in a soft felt blanket which warmed the bed and to which my feetstayed glued the entire night (not because it was cold in the room, but becauseit was sooooo cozy). The rooms at El Silencio are perfect. There are 16separate cottages, outfitted with the most comfortable white-sheeted beds and huuuuugebathrooms and outdoor hot tubs. You feel as if you are alone in the rain forest(but in a safe, sophisticated, no-want-of-a-luxury way.) Jo, in reference toyour concern about heat, the rain forest could be your place. It is relativelycool here in the north. Probably low 70sF, low 20sC—and yes, it does rain. Butit is more like a mist, and you don’t feel cool if you are hiking the woods forhours as we did this morning (or ensconced in front of the main room fire,wrapped in blankets.)

Deb: Today’s spectacle camein the form of a three-hour hike in the rain/cloud forest with oureco-concierge Andrey. It was in a word, spectacular! Off we went covered inlayers of warmth and plastic, walking sticks in hand, to wind our way into thismagical forest. We encountered three, count em’ three, gorgeous waterfalls. Iam proud to say that my DNA is forever ensconced in this magical place in theform of my magical urine, which I generously deposited not once, but threetimes during our sojourn. I am sure in the very near future you will hear tellof miraculous growth in the rainforests due to an undetected and unexplainedpresence there.

Phil: After viewing thetrout pond, one particularly feisty one ended up on my lunch plate. Delicious.I want to say something about the “Hot Lips” flower we saw on the trail. Whatcan I say??? What ... can … I … say…???

Colin: This has been … wet.But my shoes were dry. Deb bent my room key. I had to go up and down the stairs(between the room and the main lodge). The waterfalls were spectacular. Thefood was exquisite. The people are lovely. Good senses of humour, veryinformative, they seem to know everything about everything. If we could justditch the two broads, we’d have a great time. (I also marked my territory with aneco-friendly Sharpie.)

Barbara: I will say this: Ididn’t want to pack heavy, dirty boots for trail walking, but I guess I had noidea there would be so much rain in the rainforest (…idjit…). So I packedrubber-soled Mary-Janes—and you know what? They were fine, given that thetrails, while wild, were groomed and not really muddy. Couldn’t believe that myfeet stayed warm and dry the whole time.

Deb: Although we did notsee any scurrying animals, we did see and hear plenty of colourful birdsincluding the yellow-thigh finch, common bush tanager, green hermithummingbird, grey-breasted wren, and the clay-coloured robin, which is thenational bird of Costa Rica, seen everywhere in the country from rainforests tocities. And where you might ask are my bino's? On the back windowsill at home!grrrr arggghhh!

Barbara:I’m intrigued with the water system they have here. Water in Costa Rica isgenerally safe and clean, but El Silencio has an ingenious eco-friendlyapproach to water, piping it in from a nearby spring, filtering it for sediment,and purifying with ultra violet light. No chlorine!!! You can safely drink ALLthe water here—and they use the same purified water in the hot tubs. Nochlorine!!! And then all the used water is cleaned and recycled. I bow to theireco-savvy ways here. El Silencio is owned by a Costa Rican family who I have iton good authority is a wonderful family, very committed to environmental responsibilityand supporting the local communities. They grow their own organic vegetablesfor 40% of their needs and buy the other 60% from the local farmers. Theirstaff of 25 comes from a nearby town of 200. No guilty pleasure here!

Deb:Now we’re going to hit the hot tubs and sit down for another meal—after all, it’sbeen a couple of hours since we’ve eaten. Pura vida!

Hot Lips flower

La Promesa Waterfall

We were offered the wonderful chance to plant a Dama tree (or Lady tree) on the property.

Our Costa Rica Gift Of Happiness: Day 1

2012-01-04T22:04:00.000-05:00

Barbara: We arrived safe andsound!! It was a great and easy first day. We arrived in beautiful Costa Ricamidday after a 5 ½ hour flight from Toronto. (Note to dear readers: don’t watchthe movie Contagion during a flight.Gesundheit. Yeah….)

Deb: We were met at theairport by two guys with the biggest smiles in the world: Andrey, manager ElSilencio Resort and Spa (our first stop), and Jimmy, our trusty driver. Andreygreeted us by saying, “Welcome home,” and as the day progressed, we could seejust how proud they are of their country. And rightly so.

Phil: The generosity andhospitality of the Costa Ricans is even more wonderful than I remember from ourlast trip.

Barbara: Andrey asked usright away if we preferred to go straight to the hotel and unwind (something Iwould normally prefer), or if we wanted a tour of a coffee plantation. We alldecided that if we could have just a quick bite first, then we’d be good to gofor the coffee plantation.

Deb: They took us to a greatlittle joint where we all had chicken and rice Costa Rican style. (Note toself: might be better to be a little nauseous on the winding roads than stonedout of my gourd on ONE Gravol.) Did make the trip to the coffee plantation a“trip” though.

Colin: I picked coffee beans.The red ones are the best ones. The workers can pick up to 20 bushels in 10hours. I picked 15…. Beans… Took me a half hour. My back is killing me.

Just a side-Barb here: Thecoffee plantation is called Espirtu Santo and is a fair-trade co-op, withsales around the world and 10% of the their product staying right here in CostaRica. Our lovely and gracious hostess, Carrie, was so engaging, friendly and informative,we wanted to take her with us.

Phil: To get to seventhheaven you have to go through some serious cloud. They don’t call it arain/cloud forest for nothing. Visibility on the road between the coffeeplantation and the hotel was at times only a foot ahead of the headlights onroads best suited for all-terrain vehicles.

Deb: It was only the constantreassurance from Andrey that Jimmy could drive this road with his eyes closedthat assuaged any panic.

Barbara: And then we arrivedat El Silencio Lodge and Spa! Oh man. Gorgeous, peaceful, lovely sanctuary. A 5-Leaf hotel(which signifies the highest compliance with eco-friendly practices that ahotel can have). Phil kept saying that he never expected a hotel with such highenvironmental standards to feel so posh, comfortable, and decadent.

Deb and Barbara: So we willsign off tonight fire-side in the dining room, sipping a lovely glass of redwine and awaiting our first dinner in Costa Rica. Just so you guys know, we’reunder no obligation from the Costa Rica tourism board to say any of this, sotrust us when we tell you that anything we say will be a reflection of our trueexperience in this country. Thank youGift of Happiness.

Costa Rica Countdown!! And Packing For A Purpose

2012-01-03T08:00:00.000-05:00

Barbara: Well,this is it, folks! Our first adventure of 2012 and the year is only 3 days old.Tomorrow we leave for Costa Rica!!!!

We’ve beenrunning around these last few weeks, goggle-eyed and holiday-zombied. Not onlyhave there been holiday to-dos and house-fulls and parental duties (speakingfor Deb), but children home who must now be packed back off to school (sniffle,sniffle).

I was soparanoid about my ability to pack coherently for our trip under thesecircumstances that I started a week ago. You know, throwing this and that intoa suitcase as thoughts occurred. Making sure I’ll have all the wardrobe necessitiescovered. But not to worry—inspired by Deb’s order, I did take stock yesterday,eliminating any extraneous items (I mean, who needs 5 bathing suits for 7 days,especially when 2 of them are so old, they risk disintegrating like wettissue?). There’s more yet to do today, but mostly I am set.

And speaking ofpacking, one of the travel docs we were sent by our gracious hosts included alink to a site that I had never heard of before. They do seem to be wellestablished so I imagine many of you might already know them, but if you don’t,we thought it would be good to introduce them to you. The organization is calledPack For a Purpose and they help set you up if you want to bring trulynecessary items to your destination country. You simply go to the site, enterthe country you’re visiting, determine what the needs are, then click to the participatinghotels. You bring as much as you want from the list and drop it off at thenearest hotel.

As luck wouldhave it, The Harmony Hotel is one of the hosts of Pack For a Purpose andthat’s the final hotel on our itinerary. Deb and I plan to bring schoolsupplies and soccer balls.

We do wish we’dknown about this program well before leaving because we might have been able toorganize a donations collection. That said, now that we know this is an option,we’ll pay more attention the next time we travel. But we are just THRILLED wediscovered them in time for our trip—we’ll keep you all posted on how it worksonce we get down there.

Fair warning forour Costa Rican travel diary: we will post daily, but we will probably only getto post at the end of each day (or during cocktail hour :) ). Tomorrow’s postwill go up after we travel and settle in at the first hotel (so don’t look forone at our usual 8am).

We can’t wait totake you with us on our grand adventure! See you in the rain forest.

Costa Rica Gifts of Happiness from the Costa Rica Tourism Board!

11:23pm

2012-01-02T08:00:00.000-05:00

Deb: ...was the time I laid my head down on New Year's Eve. Firsttime in my life. And I kept saying, "For heavens sake, you've only gotforty minutes to go." But I couldn't. I didn't. I was tired. I had beensporting a two-day migraine and I was spent. We had had a lovely day though. MyMom and Dad came over about 2pm with some dear friends and their moms. We havebeen doing this for about three years now and it is lovely. Chat, cocktails,pizza, and Pictionary!

Though in previous years we would start around 7pm ending with aresounding "Happy New Year!" at midnight followed by a mass exodus.We had to change it up this year because my Mom needed to be home by 7:30 tomeet the caregiver who gets her ready for bed. So rather than scrap theevening, we chose to change it up to an afternoon/early eve. With the sky darkby five, it still gave us hours to feel all New Years Eve-y.

We drew bad pictures, we ate, we laughed, we had a festive cake withsparklers, and we sang Auld Lang Syne.We did our countdown at 6:43 in a fun random way and we shouted out Happy NewYear! just as if we were trying to drown out the tolling of twelve bells.

Everyone was gone by 8 and my husband and I hunkered down with teato watch a movie, which we quite enjoyed although my eyes were fluttering backand forth from full to half-mast. Any other day I would have just gone to bed,but I am an eventist damn it. Have been all my life. So staying up untilmidnight on New Years Eve is important to me.

But the game of rationalization began. "I have to get up earlyin the morning.” “We have had our version of New Years hours before.” “I couldjust kiss my husband now and say Happy New Year!” “I could get a good night'ssleep and start the year fresh and well rested instead of clinging to somethingthat would ultimately amount to nothing."

Having convinced myself, I went to sleep at 11:23pm.

And at midnight I awoke to the sound of cheering and pots and pansand fireworks. I laid there comforted by the fact that this revelry was goingon right outside my window. Our street was celebrating for me. Or with me Isuppose. After all, I was listening and smiling with my eyes closed. And Iappreciated it. I drank that cup of kindness yet for Auld Lang Syne and thennodded off, secure in the knowledge that 2012 had arrived fully and safely. Iwoke again a few hours later when I heard the boy and the girl come in fromtheir party. A few whispers, a few giggles, the removal of shoes and thesetting of the house alarm. They were slipping off to bed, the New Year’s partysmell clinging to their persons. Again I was smiling with eyes closed. And Iconfess, counting my blessings that I was going to wake up with my head insteadof theirs.

But on this morning, this first morning of 2012, I had a lingeringfeeling of disappointment with myself. Why didn't I stay up that extra 40minutes? I made a choice that I thought was prudent and wise instead of fun andspontaneous. And in the warm light of a sunny New Year's morning, I feel I madethe wrong choice. I wish I had stayed up. It is so unlike me not to have. Iwanted to try this new me on for size. Thank heaven I kept the receipt becauseI am returning her. Like the saying goes "you can sleep when you're dead".Next year, midnight baby! I may be in bed at 12:02, but MIDNIGHT I'll berockin' it. Yeah I gave in. I caved. I reacted to what I thought I needed giventhe last few months of my life. I choseUNWISELY. Yet I am choosing to forgive myself because I did what I felt at thetime I needed to do.

So I'm good. My choice to go to sleep before midnight was sooooolast year. As a result this year has started with a lesson learned. Not bad.Not bad at all.

Happy New Year, Everyone. I have huge high hopes for 2012! It has anice ring to it, doesn't it? TWOTHOUSAND AND TWELVE!

Peace. Joy. Health. Lessons.

PS (postedlater): When I came in from the gym today I found my husband laying on the bedin the afternoon, which is very rare indeed. This is the man who asks me at thestart of every day, “What can I do for you?" and then does it. He has beenin full-out mode for a month, dealing with all the stuff I have been dealingwith. I asked him if he was feeling okay. He said, “I'm spent". He is. Weboth are. And it made me feel a little better about my early bedtime lastnight. Maybe this year ... it was the right choice.

Barbara: Deb, Ilaughed out loud when you said you were glad you kept the receipt because youwere returning that new you. And I know you maybe might not return her afterall, but that said, I really like the fundamental idea of being able to try heron and deciding, Hmmm, not so much.

I actually had abit of a similar celebration as you. Back several years ago, Deb and I often spentthe Eve together, but I think the long trek home at the end of the night put acrimp in that. Like you, Deb, I also began celebrating with family, usuallyPhil’s brother and his wife (who have to come from far out of town). But thisyear, as every year, we didn’t think about New Year’s until the last guest hadleft after Christmas and the last dish was washed and put away (right aroundmidday, the 27^th). And this year, Phil’s brother had other plans andso Phil and I decided—right away, actually—that we would celebrate quietly,tete a tete. We took our kids and a boyfriend bowling on Sat afternoon—wherewe, like you, enjoyed an early countdown to New Year’s (courtesy of bowlingalley management) at exactly 5:40. We laughed, we played badly, we had fun. Thenwe brought the “kids” home to get ready for their respective parties, ordered abig tray of sushi, and opened a chilled bottle of Proseco to enjoy the rest ofthe evening in quiet coziness.

We, however (nottrying to rub it in!), did manage to make it past midnight. In fact, I think wefinally turned out the lights at 2am. Not bad, huh? (but were also roused outof deep sleep twice when one couple then the other child came home much later.)

Today it was alate sleep-in and then a really hearty midday brunch of scrambled eggs (butwhat scrambled eggs), bacon, buttered toast, and pancakes. Mmmm.

Maybe not quiteready yet to tackle 2012 head-on, but certainly smiling at the prospect. (andpacking for Costa Rica, baby!!!!!)

What was it you said, Deb? ... right: "Peace. Joy. Health. Lessons." Yes!!!