Babs' Travels

Christmas in Montana

2007-01-05T17:18:00.000-08:00

I had enough miles racked up to get a free flight. I chose to cash these in for a Christmas trip to see John in Montana. Big John passed nearly a year a go and left his land to John, who only just got out there two months ago. Getting him there was a challenge, but he’s there now. His new challenge will be getting used to all that space.

I flew from Newark at 6 bloody A buggery M, to Seattle, to then back through the Cascade Mountains to Helena, Montana. Ah, the fun of free tickets. John lives in Jefferson City, about thirty minutes south of Helena. His house is well hidden off a non-descript road mostly used by the still functioning gold mine set back in the hills. I felt it best to keep things that way, hence no pictures of his house, only the surrounding land. Each mile looks the same – trees and lots of space that go on forever. We drove up to McDonnell Pass for more breathtaking vastness. That kind of open space is crushing, restricting the breathing a bit as you realize you’re nothing in comparison.

As to the rest of the trip, well…let me say that I had hoped for something more relaxing. But there was a bit of something in the air, and I wound up having to cut my trip short a few days as a result. The next trip will be more manageable as I will know what I learned from this trip and be more prepared.

All in all it was good to see the space, good to try and imagine myself there, good to assess the situation. I found a house in Boulder, Montana, the next town over, that probably is impossible to have, but it’s nice to dream. If I moved it, it would have to be brick by brick, or get newer, more ecologically friendly materials, but pictures are included below. We couldn’t get back to look at all of John's land due to road conditions and such, so that will have to wait until spring, but I have a general guess where I might want to set up, if John is still open to doing that. He certainly seems to be, so I think we’re still a go on that level. There’s plenty of work needing to be done on his land first, and plenty of money I’d need to before I could ever try to cut out a corner for myself from the rugged land that belongs to him.

Spring time will bring the horses back from stable, a road to finish, barn floor to be re-done, fallen trees to be gathered, a wood shed and chopping station to be built, land assessment to be made, acreage to be sold off, pool to be installed in the grove (not my thing, but John wants it), gutters to installed, landing to be stained and finished, and probably a hundred other things. Helena is very manageable, Sally Ann, John, and Devon are all a pleasure, and meeting Zak did me untold good. So, plenty to look forward to in the coming years, regardless of whether or not I ever wind up being a homesteader in Montana.

Oh, and the only accident was my almost death over dinner. A fish bone got stuck in my throat, John had to perform the Heimlich maneuver, and I had to claw it out of myself before we could relax in front of the fire. We got it out of the way the second night I was there, so that was useful.

I have the recipes for the dinners we had throughout if anyone is interested. John is nothing if not a master chef, bones and all.

Happy Christmas.

Cascades from the airplane

Helena airport, with bears

Surrounding Jefferson City

McDonnell Pass and John

Prezzies and more prezzies ...

Ah, the roast.

...and Yorkshire pudding and roast potatoes...

...and the final presentation of Christmas dinner.

On an old rail bed on John's land, following cougar tracks...

big fella...

Sufferin Succotash, I'm a scared!

Me too!

Elk tracks - maybe that's what the big cat was after...

or jackrabbit...

or humans....

John's land...

John and Zak...

The neighbor's horses...

random old tractor in Boulder, MT... and, without further ado, my dream house for the mountains...

...more dream stuff, I'd have at least three...

ah, the writer wakes up...

and is barely human...give her some tea already!

and the Christmas flower...nice way to end things, dontcha think?...xob

Thoughts on Yelapa, or A Spoiled Girl's Time without Stuff

2006-08-02T14:33:00.000-07:00

I envisioned writing this entirely in Spanish, but then...no. Not only would 98% of the people reading this not be able to understand it, but my Spanish isn't really that good. I could give you a grocery list of nouns - the cat, the boat, the roach - but not write a really an enthralling adventure.

Right, so, English it is.

I learned a lot about myself on this trip - mainly, I am the spoiled American I always say I hate.

(Look, things were dirty and there were bugs and poop and then there was the toilet situation and I caught myself being whiney and obnoxious, as I am apparently as conditioned as the next American, and snotty, and as Cath once said, can't do without a 7-Eleven on the corner.)

I did calm myself and let things go and started to go with the flow...so I guess I can work towards not needing the 7-Eleven...right, can't I?

Highlights:

I dropped $100 out of my pocket somewhere in the streets of Puerto Vallarta while wandering around, waiting for my boat ride to Yelapa, two hours after landing in the country.
I puked my first night there.
I was eaten alive by mosquitoes the first couple of nights until I got the hang of the mosquito netting.
The roof leaked on me while sleeping.
The cockroaches and crabs took over the first place I stayed each night. The crabs at least didn't fly after me...
Even with an application of 45-Proof sunscreen I was severely burnt after a day of snorkeling - my hands turned purple, the skin tore on my chest, and my lip was fat as though I’d been beaten. (But I DID snorkel...sorta...I mean, I swallowed a lot of the sea before I got my breathing under control, but I was in there...)
The snorkel guide tried to seduce me by swimming us into a cove, where he laid on the beach with his hands behind his head and winking while I got tossed against a bunch of rocks.
I used olive and tea tree oil as skin lotion because there was nothing else that would keep my skin moist and I thought I was going to burn alive without something. It's actually rather good, I may toss my regualr body lotion...!
I moved into a different house half way through, and this place had NO roaches!!!
There were only a few crabs, but they were ok...and a dog that would come and go as she pleased, who I lovingly referred to as Stinky.
Dolphins were swimming in the bay, visible from the veranda of house #2, called Casa Del Sol.
I went for a swim and learned a) never to go past the point where I can still touch the bottom b) never float aimlessly on your back in a bay when a river is feeding into it c) swim parallel to the current that keeps driving you further out so you don't get tired trying to swim against it and d) if all that fails, it is good to yell for help regardless of how stupid you may feel afterwards.

Yargh, the sea, she is a salty mistress.

When I've had a near-death experience, I try to shake if off and think, well that's done - what's next?...

I skipped horseback riding and parasailing, afraid of other highlights - like being thrown off the horse down the side of a cliff, or perhaps the parasail cable snapping mid-flight and floating off into the jungle somewhere.

I did enjoy myself though. And coming back I certainly knew I was in the States. By the time I returned, I’d actually gotten into the rhythm of the storms at night and the crickets and sounds of night and nature, and the quiet and simplicity of the days. I just kept thinking of how loud and bright and gaudy everything is when I was coming back. I’m now trying to get back into the swing here. I'm moving apartments in three days, then I have no idea what happens next.

The pictures are below. Enjoy…viva Yelapa…

I know this is blurry, but that's Glyn's sarong I’m wearing…woodgie, woodgie…

and my cute little homage when I got back to work...

Autumn in New York...well, Pennsylvania anyway...

2005-11-02T17:45:00.000-08:00

Hey, it's an hour and a half outside of the city...so, close enough for me. I'm not going to say much in this, as the photos speak for themselves. This is on the way to and around Milford, PA, at a friend's cabin on a lake. You have to cross the Delaware River to get there... I love this time of the year and my new camera - all the photos came out great. Oh, and there were no industrial accidents, just a sore back from over doing things a bit…

man have things changed in the last month...

2005-10-04T00:42:00.000-07:00

Since returning from Oz, the midwest has been visited, cheese has been consumed, babies have been held, funerals have been attended, volunteer organizations have been called, hurricanes have hit, friends have decided to disappear, new businesses have gone out of business, the weather has cooled, bombs have gone off in foreign lands, music has been played to appreciative audiences, goldfish have been eaten, other friends have reappeared and lots have remained constant in the night sky.

I am older now than I knew possible which is a good thing I think, but only time will tell. I have been to the mountains and played with pumpkins and contemplated chain saws and piles of wood, screamed and run from spiders and lost lures to prehistoric fish, booked another ticket home to Wisconsin, made apologies in some arenas and for good reason, and stood my ground in others.

Life is different in countless ways and it's hard to believe that just over a month ago I was on the other side of the planet, giddy and free in ways I have not allowed myself to be in a long time. Now I must find a way to find that place here, riding tumultuous waters and trying to just stay calm and not think about the possiblity of capsizing.

I may or may not update this again, but not to worry - I'll do my best to be entertaining when and if I do...happiest of halloweens to you...

San Diego

2005-07-22T04:45:00.000-07:00

I was in San Diego a week ago. It was officially for business but I think it was really a primer for my upcoming trip.

There were attack seagulls outside my room, though they are not pictured here.

Because of a reservation mishap, my co-worker and I had to share the same bed the first night. We left the balcony door open and in the dead of night, one of the seagulls went nutso on the ledge. We both thought it was in the room...and although this is not pictured either, I'm sure you can image the fun we had at 2:30 in the morning chasing a nonexistant bird around the hotel room.

This is Mission Beach - exactly where I needed to be...next to an open fire, breathing deeply, watching the waves roll. Surely San Diego could use a girl like me with t-shirts to sell, right? Something to consider...

...and the only thing I could think walking on the beach was, "I'm going to be on the other side of this bit of water in a little while"...well, that and "How did that much sand get in my eye?"

My incredible subway adventure...

2005-07-20T10:29:00.000-07:00

I sent this out in email to lots of you but thought I'd stick it here, too.

**************

I had the MOST incredible adventure on the way home last night. I’ll try to be brief but you know me …forgive the verb tense, I just wanted to get it out:

Ok, I got on the 1 train at 66th Street on the Upper West Side at 9:54 pm and switched to the Q train at 42nd Street to get my to my neighborhood in Brooklyn. I sat next to an old Babushka (Russian for “grandmother”): deep lines on her face, portly woman but smiley and friendly. I also raced this other woman for a seat as the doors opened at 42nd; skinny, and pretty, she looked cranky. I sat next to Babushka and she, across the aisle. We went over the bridge as always...and then at the 1st stop in Brooklyn the conductor announced:

“Because of a switch malfunction there is no Q service in Brooklyn. For those passengers needing Q stops, go to …” this stop and take that bus, blah, blah and everyone groaned. “The next stop will be Pacific Street. This Q train is running on the West End line…”

This meant, nowhere near my stop.

So I thought, “...hmmm...shit; ok, I’ll get off at Pacific and get a car service home.” But then I thought, “Oh wait, that's at least $12; do I really want to spend that?”

So. Now we're all in Brooklyn. On our way down the West End line, none of us quite sure how to get home.

Babushka says, “Vat can I do? I take it da train to the end of line I guess...”

And I thought, “Well, if Babushka can do it, then who do I think I am to hire a car? Besides, it's early and why not?”

So then all hell broke loose, because no one really spoke English and now the train was being rerouted and no one knew how to get where they're going. So this New York white guy – hard face, looks older than he is, little bit drunk white guy – starts to bitch and hit the rail post:

“I gotta go ova here (pointing to the map); fuck! Goddamn train – AND I gotta catch the 4:05 to the Island in the morning…”

Then he started to announce, and map out with his greasy finger, how he was going to get home. (Don’t ask me why I noticed the grease smudge on his finger, but it stuck in my mind.)

So the girl who looked cranky before asks, in broken English, how to get where she is going and looks as though she will cry at any moment. The little bit drunk guy kinda tries to tell her how to get home and adds, “You know, hey sweetheart, no problem, I’ll get you there...”

So I said, “It's ok. I know where you're going, it's close to where I’m going; if you want to just follow me...” and she nodded and sat down beside me, in between me and little bit drunk guy.

And Babushka says, “I haf to go dat vay too...”

And then this young college student, girl in a skirt, yeeee-oung, starts looking at the map and talking about how she hated trains and had a car when she was in school... so I bite and say, “Where was that?”

She says, “Boston...” as she sits next to Babushka. Then these two women get up on the other side of the car and come over to all of us and in broken English ask me, “Why is dat ve go dis vay? Is dere noting that ve can do?” and Babushka starts to speak Russian to them and they immediately relax.

They go and sit behind her, so now we're all seated together like we’re on a class outing and little bit drunk guy is telling everyone how to get home: “Eh, oh – no problem” and the Russians are talking amongst themselves and the college girl is saying how she was thinking of returning to school here but can't stand the trains. She says she is leaving soon and I say, “Oh you live near here?” and she says, “No, leaving the country.” So I bite again and say, “Where are you going?” and she says, “Vietnam.” and Babushka says, “My daughter she is dere now.” She goes on to tell us that her daughter speaks 4 languages and just got her masters from Wharton and I say, “My, you must be very proud.” Babushka shrugs and says, “Yes, uf course, I am proud uf my daughter, she is one and the other is smart one too, and I am lucky.”

The Russian girls pull out a map and talk to Babushka, who talks to me and then translates to them, about the best way for them to get home. It turns out they also live in my neighborhood. They ask me if I know of any apartment rentals, and I tell them about the Flatbush Food Co-Op, where people post things in the back on the bulletin board, like neighborhood rentals and part time jobs and “babysitter wanted” ads.

Then this other guy shows up who is wearing "herbalife" pins on his suit coat and duffle bag (that's a vitamin and people sell it like Avon, door to door) and he corrects little bit drunk guy, who is still giving everyone directions to get home. So Mr. Herbalife says, “We can catch the bus at the end of the line to get back to where we were going.” And little bit drunk guy says, “Oh, yeah, hey, you're right.” and I say, “It's ok, everybody; we'll all get where we're going. Just sit back and enjoy the adventure”

Now somehow we all get into talking about our ethnic background, except for little bit drunk guy who is looking at the map and trying to figure out why he didn’t know what Mr. Herbalife knew. The cranky girl, who turns out not to be cranky at all but scared to death, happens to be Bulgarian and has only been in the States and New York for a month. She tells us her mother is from Peru and her father from Bulgaria.

[Little foot note: Turns out “da”, which means “yes” in Russian, means “no” in Bulgarian, and “niet” which means “no” in Russian, means “yes” in Bulgarian, which we were told by Babushka, who said she was always getting confused when Bulgarian cousins would visit her in Russia.]

This is when we all learned that Mr. Herbalife was from El Salvador and had been selling herbalife because it turned his life around.

Ms. Bulgaria says, “I’ve only been here a month and you always hear how dangerous New York is but all of you are nice people.” And Mr. El Salvador says, “There are good people and there are bad people in this world, in every country. New York has both kinds from all over, so it is not a bad place if there are bad people - both kinds are everywhere.”

We all agree and laugh and smile at one another.

A black woman had been watching all of this commotion and our strange group bonding very quietly from a few seats away. About ½ way out in Brooklyn I say, “Do you know where you are going?” and she says, “Yes, I live at the end of the line. I’ll show you where the bus stop is.”

Soooooooooooo, we finally get to the last stop on the West End line, which by the way for those wishing to take this trip themselves is Stillwell Avenue in Coney Island.
We all get off, all eight of us: because college girl got off along the way and took a car service, our group consisted of Mr. El Salvador, Ms. Bulgaria, Babushka, the two Russian girls, little bit drunk guy, the woman who lives at the end of the line, and me.

And now I’m mother hen, saying as I look around, “Do we have everybody?” and Babushka says, after talking to the conductor who looks as though she really wants to run away to a desert island rather than deal with 200 hundred people demanding she tell them how to get home, “I think da train it vill be going back, I vill stay on it da train.” The two Russian girls split down a stairwell at the far end of the platform. Little bit drunk guy hops back on the train and tries to get Ms. Bulgaria to come with him. She says, “No I will stay with her,” meaning me, and she and I and Mr. El Salvador and the woman who lives at the end of the line walk to the bus station.

The woman who lives out there says, “Get home safe,” and tells us how we never would have found it because the construction finally ended and the place looks totally different even to her. We all thank her profusely for helping us and then we three remaining adventurers walked to the bus stop for the B68 bus, which would take us all home.

Mr. El Salvador pulled out his herbalife book and showed us before and after pictures of him before the vitamins and after losing 28 lbs. The bus came and we got on. Mr. El Salvador, whose name turns out to be Mario, gave us business cards, so I gave out my business cards. Ms. Bulgaria introduced herself as Paula and we all shook hands. Mario commented that we were the only ones on the bus and we all laughed. He got off near his house and it was just Paula and I and she says,

“Of all the times I get lost, this is the best. I am not so worried. You are very nice people; besides you must get lost in order to learn something.”

We laughed about little bit drunk guy trying to pick her up and she called her boyfriend on her fast-dying cell phone and asked him to pick her up at the bus stop. Before she got off the bus, she told me I saved her life, gave me a hug and kiss and then ran off the bus and hugged her waiting boyfriend.

I explained it all to the bus driver, who said she would've kicked the drunk out of the subway car, but she agreed it sounded like a movie and told me to get home safe. And so I got off the bus and walked home; it was midnight when I opened the door to my apartment.

That was my incredible adventure. I sat on my sofa with a huge grin on my face and smoked a cigarette, not quite believing I’d just been a part of all of that but not doubting it, either. I just thought I’d share.

First blog ever.

2005-07-20T10:07:00.000-07:00

I feel like an absolute dork. This seems so self-aggrandizing: posting my thoughts on line. Who the fuck cares what I think?

Well, whatever. I made a blog. And I'm leaving the country soon and then everybody can log on and read the thrilling adventures of Babs in Australia. Or not.

Since I'm the Queen of the Industrial Accident, I'll be sure to include police reports, photos of any injuries, damaged property, etc., as I take the Australian continent by storm.

Stay tuned. Or...well, don't - whatever makes you happy.