Traveling partners

If you want to know how strong a relationship is there are two sure fire ways to test it. First, you can try to do a renovation together. Between the dust and the actual work many a relationship have crumbled into pieces. The far more interesting way to see if you have a relationship that can stand the stresses and strains of life is to travel together. If you can negotiate missed directions, food choices, hotel snafus, and wandering through a country where neither of you speak the language, you probably have what it takes.
I am traveling through Europe with two close friends, who happen to be married to each other. I am happy to discover that we travel well together. There is no fussing, arguing or hurt feelings. Laid back, easy going personalities make the trip go smoothly.
The Amazing Race is onto something. Next time you watch notice how the pairs work or don't with each other. You may love someone very much but you are better off not traveling with them. An important fact to know to increase the survival rate of any kind of relationship. Thank you Verna and Bill for your friendship and company!

Roots

Almost every time I talk with someone about what is most important to them they tell me it is family and friends. As they continue to explain, the underlying appreciation of roots and community surface. With very few exceptions, human beings want to belong somewhere. It doesn't matter if you live in downtown Toronto or the jungles of the Amazon, we all want to have a sense of community and place.
Some people live their whole lives in one geographical area. They know the history, people's names, where to shop and have routines which have been honed over a lifetime. I yearn for that. At the age of fifty-four the longest I have lived anywhere is nine years. I am ready for some roots, ready to find a place to spend the rest of my life. That may sound a tad dramatic, but given my age and genetics we are talking thirty years at the most.
So, where will this desire take me? It could be anywhere in the world. But wherever it is it needs to be near water with a few people of like mind. Beyond thst the list gets fuzzy. However, despite my dauther's pleas, I am pretty sure it won't be winnipeg.

I wonder

Every time I travel I can't help but wonder what it would be like to live in the places I visit. Last year I was ready to move to Ecuador. Now I am toying with the idea of residing in a small village in Holland. The narrow brick streets lined with small houses appeals to me. The possibility of riding a bike to the places I need to go appeals to me. The fact that I do not speak a word of Dutch, does present a tiny stumbling block. However, that has never stopped me before.
I have the thought in the back of my head since I read Eat,Pray,Love that I would love to live in Europe for a bit. The history beckons and romance entices. Anything is possible outside of your own backyard.
The question still remains: of all the places in the world, where is it that I would most like to live? What are the important elements a place must possess to make it livable and life giving for me? I do not know the answers. But as I try to figure out the next piece of my life, I am certainly asking those questions. Today Holland seems like a good choice.

The adventure begins

Today the adventure of my 55th year began; a month in France and Holland which includes the wedding of my step son. A great celebration, no matter how you look at it. As wonderful as a trip maybe, and no matter how much I enjoy traveling, there is always a touch of nerves at the beginning.
Wandering away from family, friends, and the comfort of my life reminds me again of my vulnerablity. In my everyday life I labour under the illusion of some control and predictability. Once I leave that arena, anything can happen. That uncertainty is part of what I enjoy about visiting other places in the world. It is also what gives me a small case if butterflies in the belly as I head out to countries whose language I do not know and whose customs and culture are a new experince.
Today I arrived with friends in Amsterdam, a city I have wanted to visit for years. We are staying just outside of Amsterdam in a small village with family of one of my friends. The homes are much smaller here, but our hosts have opened their home to us with grace and welcome.
The butterflies are slowing down their dance. I am ready to settle into a new adventure!

A giggle

Sitting at a stoplight this morning, I took a moment to primp. I put on lipstick and gave my lovely blonde curls another scrunch. Having made sure that I was as put together as I was going to get, I looked to my left to the car next to mine. A man, who looked to be somewhere around early sixties, smiled at me and motioned for me to roll down my window. Assuming he was going to ask for directions, I pushed the button to drop my window. He leaned over and said "Do you know why scuba divers fall backwards out of the boat?" I shook my head. "if they fell forward they would still be in the boat." He laughed at his own joke and drove off as the light changed. I am still laughing at the joke. Some days the oddest things happen!

Nose studs and sons

   In the area where I live lots of women have small discreet nose studs.  For years and years I have looked and admired them.  However, my fear of needles kept me from seriously considering acquiring one.  Needles scare me and make me cry.  I will go to great lengths to avoid coming in contact with them if they are piercing or being used to administer medicine.  It was iffy if I was actually going to get all the required shots for my trip to South America.  Thanks to a lovely tattooed travel nurse named Bob, I got suitably immunized in time.  All this is to say, a nose stud despite a deep yearning for one, was likely never to happen.
    Never say never.  One Saturday afternoon about two years ago I had an attack of courage.  In the space of about fifteen minutes, I decided to get my nose pierced and had made an appointment for that afternoon.  I called my sister to tell her what I had done.  Her response was, and I quote:  "Are you out of your fucking mind?" My daughter didn't believe I would go through with it.  My best friend refused to come with me because she didn't want to have any thing to do with the whole idea.
    So around two in the afternoon I loaded myself in the car and headed to tattoo parlor.  A lovely young woman covered in body art helped me pick out my new jewellery and then ushered me into the room.   Another lovely woman covered with more body art and piercings arrived to do the deed.  She carefully explained what she would do.  She did tell me that my eyes would water because of the shock, but it would all be over in 30 seconds.  At this point, I was wondering what possessed me to do this rash and impulsive thing.  Was it too late to bail?  Yes.  By this point,  the lovely woman had her needle out.   I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth.  How bad could it be?
    It wasn't bad at all. I kept my eyes closed but it didn't really hurt and she had my teeny tiny sparkly stud in before I knew it.  I felt like a wild woman, in the best sense of the word.  Very proudly I returned to the car and went to pick up my seventeen year old son at work.  
     He wasn't ready so I popped into the drug store to pick up some saline for stud care.  When I returned to the car,  my son was leaning up against talking on his cell.  I pointed to my nose.  His eyes got big.  He put the phone to his chest and said very seriously "I will deal with you later."   Why do children think they are in charge of the Universe?  He finally got in the car, put on his seat belt and turned towards me. "I don't know what I am going to do with you."  Children.  They are hysterical!
    He doesn't like nose studs.  His girlfriend has one, but that didn't help my case.  He doesn't like hers either. 
     My mother's response when I told her was, "What will your congregation say?"  I told her that if a very small piece of metal was problem, then we had a bigger problem we needed to address.
      The next day at church, it took people at least an hour and half to realize I was sporting nose attire.  The kids thought it was great.  I even had a seventy year old tell me she liked it.
      I still wear it with pride.  It is a visible reminder of my promise to myself to live differently and with purpose.  All that from a little piece of bling.