Or is it Kuwait Airport?
. . . or any airport just about anywhere when Christmas and Eid al Kebir all hit at the same time!
moar funny pictures
Hotel Glasses “Sanitized”
A good friend sent me the following link. If you stay in hotels regularly, this video will change the way you do things, trust me! It is GROSSSSSSSS!
Brother Odd: Dean Koontz
I’ve always liked Dean Koontz; he knows how to be compassionate and funny at the same time. When I showed books I had bought, my long-time friend Momcat said “Oh, you’re going to like that book!” and oh, how right she was. I like it so much that now I have to go back and buy the previous ones to catch me up.
The main character, whose name, to his embarrassment, is Odd Thomas, has secluded himself in a monastery in search of spiritual peace. Or was he brought here for another reason? Odd Thomas has some very odd gifts; he can see the undeparted dead, for example, and he can sense things that normal humans can’t. You would think these would be very cool talents, but Odd is in his early twenties, and his talents only serve to isolate him and make him feel a little alien.
The monastery / nunnery is a good place for him, full of very human monks and nuns, some of them very wise and very compassionate, as well as competant. It’s a good place for Odd Thomas, a healing place and a place where his strange gifts are protected by his spiritual cohabitants. The monastic life attracts a lot of people trying to put their pasts behind them to seek spiritual goals, and also attracts those with their own agendas.
The monastery is well endowed, and contains a special school for young people who have physical and/or mental disabilities. Some can learn enough to return to society, and some will probably spend the rest of their shortened lives under the safety and care of the nuns – until, all of a sudden, a threat appears, directed at the children.
Dean Koontz writes interesting books. He often includes benign animals, he often focuses on threats to women and children, and while his books are not difficult to read, neither are they something you read and easily forget. Both AdventureMan and I read an earlier Dean Koonz book, Watchers, to which we have often referred through the years, as one of his characters ends up homeless and living in a car with her son. She talks about money just giving you more options, and about those who are one paycheck away from homelessness. It was an easy read, but he includes some tough ideas, things you find yourself mulling over even years later. That’s a good read in my book!
The only problem with this book was that it was so good I finished it in one flight. Good thing I had packed a back-up book in my carry-on!
Three O’Clock Musings
Part of the problem is that for a few days I am totally on my own – without AdventureMan, my life is more free-form. So if I fall asleep at 7 p.m. who cares? As long as I get seven hours of sleep, it isn’t a health issue, is it? Does it matter when you get your sleep? I awoke shortly after I went to sleep however, my bed was shaking – was it just me? No, my bookstand was also rattling, and it went on for what seemed like a long time. Got my adrenelin pumping, but maybe it was just my imagination, not an earthquake. It FELT like an earthquake.
AdventureMan calls at 9:00 pm, we talk, we say goodbye and I read until 10, but am able then to go back to sleep. And then, at 2:30 am, I am wide awake. I didn’t sleep all day yesterday, but neither did I go out – most of the day I was feeling that dopey-almost dizzy headachy kind of feeling when your body knows it is supposed to be sleeping. Not a good time to be out on the road. 😉 I don’t want to endanger my Kuwaiti friends!
So I make myself stay in bed, but I can hear a roaring sound. Is someone pouring gravel, because that is what I think I am hearing? After a while, because I can, I get up and make a pot of coffee, close the kitchen door so the Qatteri Cat can’t come in, and go out on the balcony. No traffic, but I can still hear that roaring. I look out – and it is the pounding surf, I am hearing, one of my most favorite sounds in the world. There is a chilly wind, it seems to be coming from the east, and the pounding surf. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.
AdventureMan and I laugh – we both relish our time on our own – but only for a short time, and then it gets old. We talk a couple times a day or more on the phone; it isn’t the same. We have such great conversations, when we are in the same room together, or even the same city or the same country! I wonder what my life would be like without him, and I can honestly say it would be calmer, less complicated, quieter . . . and that I would miss him terribly.
He tells me his life would be more chaotic – empty refrigerator, clothes on the floor, that without me (nagging) to remind him of things, his life falls apart on the domestic front. I believe it!
I think I get over jet lag faster, though, when he is around to provide my life with greater structure. I WANT to get back on local time, but I succumb to temptation when he is not around, I take the easy way, I don’t make so much effort to adapt. I have to admit, three o’clock in the morning is MY time. I’m not the kind of night-owl who wants to stay up this late, but I love sleeping early and getting up this early, as long as I don’t have anywhere to be or anything to do in the next few days that requires my attention. At three in the morning, the world is mine!
*shares the sound of the pounding surf*
The Qatteri Cat follows me around, so happy to have his house-companion (me) back. We watches for me to sit, and if I have been running around (doing inexplicable things like unpacking, doing laundry, etc) he complains, after all – who wouldn’t rather be snuggling up with the Qatteri Cat? When I sit to blog, he snuggles as close as he can and does his singing purr . . . it’s a normal cat purr, but with the added element of cat joy; it sounds like he is singing and purring at the same time. Life is sweet.
Is it it just me, or is the internet running slowly?
Pike Place Market Readies for Christmas
I’ve always loved the Pike Place Market. It’s like the heart – and stomach – of Seattle. My favorite time of year is November, when there are far fewer tourists, but still fresh vegetables, fresh fish, and wonderful arrangements of pine boughs and Mexican peppers (called “ristras” when all strung together.)
Hard Core Divers
I can hardly believe my eyes. On some of the coldest days of the year, there are still people eager to don their wet-suits and hit the marine reserves, do a little diving. I can’t imagine; it makes me shiver just to think about it!
Signs, Signs
I love signs. The very first sign I remember photographing was in Kenya, where it said “Elephants have the right of way.” This is a couple signs we came upon while walking along the waterfront, and it occurred to me that in this very law-abiding community, there were all kinds of signs telling you what you can’t do . . . LOTS of them!
And because we ate at the Rock Tavern, I keep hearing this song going through my head and thinking my sign says “Thank you very much, Lord!”
Rockin’ Pizza
It was cold, so cold it was even . . . SNOWING! We were in the mood for pizza, and we had seen a tavern along the road that claimed a wood burning oven, which is our favorite kind of pizza. We ventured out in the cold and snow, made it to the tavern, and it turned out to have a rock theme.
It was a very fun place, with a fake old brick interior, booths, a stage – I guess for competing rock bands, but there weren’t any live bands that night – GREAT smells, and great looking pizzas coming out from the kitchen. It was called the Rock Tavern, and they played classic rock songs, some really old ones like from the ’50’s, too.
This is what it looked like inside:
Here is what I had; it was called Evil Ways, and had artichoke hearts, spinach, sundried tomatoes and a basil pesto cream sauce – oh YUMMMMM:
Adventure Man had Ripp’s Revenge, which had kalamata olives, marinated mushrooms and sundried tomatoes – also YUMMMMMMM:
By the time we left, it had stopped snowing and none had stuck.
Lutefisk Dinner
Do you listen to Prairie Home Companion? Have you ever heard Garrison Kieler talk about Norwegians and lutefisk?
Wikipedia gives the following definition, and if you want to see a photo or know how to prepare it, you can check on the blue Wikipedia above:
Lutefisk (lutfisk) (pronounced [lʉːtəfɪsk] in Norway, [lʉːtfɪsk] in Sweden and the Swedish-speaking areas in Finland) is a traditional dish of the Nordic countries made from stockfish (air-dried whitefish) and soda lye (lut). In Sweden, it is called lutfisk, while in Finland it is known as lipeäkala. Its name literally means “lye fish”, owing to the fact that it is made with caustic soda or potash lye.
As I was googling lutefisk, I actually found a place you can order it at Walleyedirect.com and it will look like this:
You probably won’t want to. Lutefisk is what poor immigrant Norwegians used to eat through the long winters. It is cod that has been soaked in lye and then dried to preserve it. It is also incredibly smelly. If you are at all sensitive to smell, you will probably not even be able to be in the same room with lutefisk.
Why am I telling you all this? Some people find lutefisk a rare delicacy; it brings back nostalgic memories of the good old days. Only in communities with pockets of heavy Scandinavian decent will you find signs on bulletin boards like this:
Adventure Man Goes to Ivar’s
“You hungry?” I asked Adventure Man as he arrived.
He nodded his head.
“BBQ? Italian? Ethiopian? What’s your preference?” I tossed out several alternatives.
“Any place I can get some good clam chowder?” he responded.
“Sure!” I said, delighted his wants were so easily satisfied. “How about Ivar’s?”
We had a great dinner. He ordered Clam Chowder and Scallops and Chips, and coleslaw, and cornbread, and I had a crab cocktail and smoked salmon chowder. YuMMMMMMMMMMMM.
Our booth:
Our dinner:
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