Author: jenw139

Did you know wild Asian elephants live to be about 80? Yep. They have about the same life span as humans. Yesterday we went to an elephant sanctuary. We were supposed to go on Thanksgiving but my Dad’s crown fell off and he had to go to the dentist. We went the next day…. to the wrong place!

Luckily this place and the place we were supposed to go were partners. We sat through this long, boring speech about elephants in Thailand. After that we got to feed some of them. I had never seen an elephant this close. They ate pineapples whole and bushels of bananas, too. The elephant that I fed was 46 years old. She had a name but I forgot it. After she ate the whole basket of bananas and cucumbers, she went over to an area where we could watch her eat banana tree leaves and stalk. She ate the leaves by standing on one end of the leaf, and striping the good stuff off with her trunk. Then she whacked the leaf on her ankles to soften it up. She ate the stalk by holding it down with her feet and stripping it like we would a banana. Then she shoved it in her mouth. I watch her eat from one side and noticed something about her mouth. When she ate her tongue was angled differently from ours. It pointed towards the back of her mouth, probably so she could shove food in her mouth easier.

Then we moved to the oldest elephant in the sanctuary. I also forgot her name. She was well cared for but her leg was tired, and she had to lean against stuff for support. I fed her some bananas, but she ate therm very slowly. She was, after all, 70 years old. We then met the newest member of the elephant sanctuary. Again I forgot her name. She was not yet accustomed to people so we could not feed her.

Turns out this mistake was a good one.

-Hattie

I awoke screaming. Not words but earsplitting sounds. A muffled voice came from down the hall. My older sister Sky came running in. She almost broke down the door to my bedroom. “shhhhhhhh” She hissed, her dirty blonde locks creating a blanket in front of her pointy face. She was in all ways possible a “Goldie Locks”. She whined about every thing. “Shut up Quinn. You’ll wake Zoe and Linn, and mom and dad spent forever putting them to sleep. Don’t even get me started about my beauty sleep. It’ll take me hours to do my routine all over again.” and she left.

I sat there in bed pondering my dream, and wishing mom and dad were here. They had left to go to the marine lab yesterday and would return in the next day or so. Sky was the oldest, so she baby sat us while they traveled. I could not stop thinking about the snake. I was the snake. And I died.

Just out side my door a floor board creaked. My head shot up. Were we being robbed? Thankfully no, it was my cat. His name was Toast. Every one in the family had their own pet. The twins have Bubble gum and Cookie, two hamsters. And Sky has a Chihuahua named Princess. Princess is yippy and rude, much like Sky. Toast walked in. His fluffy gray coat was soft and shining, and i noticed as he hopped up on my bed that he had bits of food on his whiskers. He turned and faced me, then too my surprise said in a voice like a soft purr “follow me”.

The smell of the early rain replaced the smell of wet grass. Clouds covered the sky as they always did. A short walk to the bakery supplied me with breakfast of Pizza Bianca. An Italian dish of bread with olive oil and salt. Yum! Another short walk dumped us at a taxi line. Right next to it was ancient ruins, that also acted as a cat sanctuary, Gatti Roma. No cat prowled the old stone rubble.

Arriving at the train station was easy. Finding the train, that was a different story. Though it was not terribly difficult it was also not terribly easy. We had to wait for the station number. Finally we boarded the train. Some one had taken our seats though. We just took 4 together and hoped no one would complain. My dad explained that Florence in Italian was Firenze. The both mean flower.

The first thing we did once we were alone on the streets of Florence was stop at a church. It was incredibly boring. I occupied myself by nagging my dad. And look at the colored light the stained glass produced. Finally we left the church.

The whole purpose of going to Florence was museums. The first museum was filled with… art. The were unfinished statues and the statue of David. While my dad drew David I drew another statue from a different museum. (It ended up headless). We came to a room filled with statues. It was a little overwhelming.

After the museum we ate lunch and got gelato. I got honey, lavender, and milk with chocolate. It was delicious! Then we went to another museum.

This one was vast with never ending halls of busts and paintings. Ugh! After about an hour of slow walking and sore feet we proceeded to the exit. After gift shop after gift shop (one which had a book called “cats in art” that had a quote that I liked. “a dog is a dog, a bird is a bird, and a cat is a person”.

After a long day and throbbing feet we got on the train back to Rome.

-Hattie

Everyone has a fear. Even if they say there not afraid of anything they are probably afraid of being humiliated or embarrassed. Other fears could be something like The Dark or high up places. Or perhaps death or illnesses. You could have a fear of living things like bugs or snakes. There are even people who find a reason to be afraid of anything, like potatoes, or bowls.

The whole reason we’re in Thailand is the beach and the rainforest. We also wanted to try something new. You might be wondering how fear relates to this. Around the gulf of Thailand is the home to a creature so deadly they are responsible for 20-40 deaths a year, which is more than the amount of fatal world wide shark attacks every year. The Box Jellyfish. I am afraid of jellyfish in general but the Box Jellyfish being the big daddy of them all freaks me out. Luckily, we are staying in another area far away from the gulf.

On our first day at the beach here there was a dead jellyfish brought in by a crab who was eating it. Most people would think that dead jellyfish are harmless but there wrong. Unlike snakes or animals that need to bite you to inject there venom jellyfish need only to brush against you for you to feel their pain and wrath. Dead jellyfish are still perfectly capable of that. My panicking resulted in a waste of breath, because turns out it was a mauve jellyfish. Though it would hurt (horribly) to be stung, mauve jellyfish pose no real threat to humans.

Today we went to a beach to go snorkeling, when someone said “hey, I saw a couple jellyfish over there by the rocks.” I almost lost my head. But I went in anyway. We we’re making our way to the deeper part of the rock when I saw a small-ish blob in the water. I had to go. My feet flew out of the water and I ran back on to the sand. I’m not positive whether it was a jellyfish or not.

My fear held me back from doing what I enjoy, and I deeply regret that. We’re not really living if we live in fear.

-Hattie

September 27 2019

One goal for this year abroad was for us to spend quality time together as a family: we sure are doing that! Our little unit of four spends nearly all day every day together. From morning school to afternoon outings to dinner and game time in the evening, we’re together. This is a far cry from our busy schedules in the Chicago, where we leave in the am and see each other for a few exhausted hours in the evening, often bickering because by then everyone is exhausted.

The flip-side of togetherness all day every day is a weird isolation: a lonely longing for friends and co-workers and school teachers. These secondary figures in our lives, we all realized recently, play a valuable role in our identity, our self-worth. So, while we know that in a few short months the girls will be off to school in Australia and Pablo will be off to work and I will, well, I’m still figuring out the “I will” part, it’s the now of everyday where we need to live: and, perhaps for the first time in a long time, we’re living in the NOW. Learning to slow down our pace and to cast off strict time schedules will still adhering to a comforting structure takes time (and practice). I’m not sure how families who travel 24/7 for years maintain the living in the now, but I believe that having a job to solidify your place in the larger world, to create purpose and meaning in your day to day, helps. Without my position as teacher –one that I’ve held for over 15 years–I am working to stretch, to grow, to feel uncomfortable and to meditate on my purpose, my direction, and my goal in my days.

Recently, I woke on morning in our cozy two bedroom cottage in Weston Subedge’s Cotswolds disoriented, grumpy, and feeling very much alone. In the before, I likely would have pushed down these negative feelings, given my face and teeth a good brushing, gotten dressed and worked to shift –not process– my feelings. Who had time for that? Today, though, I stretched myself, leaned into Pablo’s shoulder and said, ” I feel float-y, lonely. What’s my purpose and goal in life? I don’t know anymore.” He hugged me and said he felt the same. We invited the girls into the conversation. We all stood in our country cottage kitchen by the sink and talked about our feelings. As it turns out, we were all feeling a little lonely and lost. After family hugs and sitting with the uncomfortableness of our feelings, we told a few jokes, started Mom and Dad school and then went about day.

Perhaps our new purpose is not to earn an “A” in school or to teach seniors the fine art of the argument or to tick any boxes in our day that would previously tell us we had a “good day” because we ticked our boxes. Perhaps our new purpose is to see and hear and feel–to experience–our world a little more closely. To stretch, to grow, to live.

I’m thinking once again, after so many years, of a quotation by Henry David Thoreau,

” I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.“

I think we too went out into the world–into this strange land of slow traveling–living outside of tourist model and resident –because we too wished to confront the facts of this world with all its messiness and see if we couldn’t pull out what it has to teach us.

October 2, 2019

England’s midlands with all her rolling hills, quaint villages and hamlets –all tucked in through a patchwork of hedgerows of ever changing cultivated, fallowed and pastured fields (mostly with sheep) seem to me like the so many nooks and crannies of her historic country cottages –quirky at first visit, but ever revealing themselves through repeated glances, adventures, explorations.

Footpaths

The best way to explore the midlands is perhaps by foot. Footpaths often begin in small villages, venture deep into farmer’s fields–I was eye to eye with a herd of cattle last week quite by accident– and meander in and around forested areas. Some footpaths will even take ramblers through graveyards, where I walked amongst tombstones dating back nearly 500 years. After my first attempt of climbing Dover Hill near our AirBNB in Western Subedge, I mentioned to our host Frankie that I got lost. I was worried that I was disturbing the farmer’s flock of the field I was dumped in. “That’s the fun of it,” she said, laughing. Everyone gets lost. You take one footpath to the next and the next and before you know it you’re in a spot you hadn’t imagined you’d land at the outset.” Wait? Get lost? I had permission to take an afternoon and get lost? I’m not sure why I needed it, but I did. Somehow as a “responsible” mother, wife, sister, teacher, woman of 40+ I’d concreted in my agenda oriented mind that I simply didn’t get lost. Lost was for overwrought teenagers. Lost was for recent college graduates. Lost was for the 11 year old me exploring the creek-bed near my childhood home in Central PA. Yet, here I was told by another 40 year old woman to take some time, get lost, and enjoy.

Heeding Frankie’s advice, I did go back to the footpaths that meandered up and around Dover Hill. I don’t know how much I walked or how long it took me. I don’t know many kilometers I walked or how many steps I took. I wasn’t sure if I “did it right” or hit the summit at the spot recommended to do so. I didn’t keep track. I let one foot guide me up and around and over into the nooks and crannies of my time alone. With each step, I looked more broadly and sensed more deeply my connection to the land, to my physical body, and to essence of me. I think my eleven year old self would be proud of the nooks and crannies I noticed blooming up and all around me: a marsh harrier swooping down to catch her prey, a patch of bright yellow flowers blossoming in the far corner of a field, stinging nettle’s creeping journey down a footpath, the lowered head of fully udder-ed cow, the every-changing skyline as I crept up toward the mid-morning sky, and the cool damp of the forest floor beneath me–an old friend whose melodies welcomed me home.

Time is Paris stretched out along the long rainy boulevards. Hand in hand we roamed. Umbrellas passed between us. Daily baguettes tucked inside our raincoats. Unlike life in the midlands where rain sent Englanders inside cottages and pubs, the Parisians embraced the discomfort. Downpours came then went with little reaction. No one sought shelter save pushing their cafe table slightly back under a protective awning.

We followed suit.

Waiting in lines for the catacombs and later lines to ascend the Eiffel Tower ever ready for the weather’s onslaught, but no longer deterred. It was in this state of mind that we entered the catacombs the morning of our second day in the City of Lights and where –confronting the bones of over six million people– we were reminded how very temporary, how very small our lives are indeed. Each skull a life known, a life gone, a life forgotten. Stacks upon stacks upon architectural rows of moments, of loves, of losses, of memories playing out before… Ingrid handled these intimate faces of death better than expected. Only once did she ask to leave. Only once did I pull her close, kiss her forehead to remind her (me) how sweet this moment, how sweet them all.

Graveness often demands levity. While we sipped wine at a cafe across a park (the girls had Fanta), Pablo provided it. I mentioned two things: firstly, the number of Parisians who still smoked despite the clear knowledge about its deadly effect; secondly, the number of male dogs that did not seemed to be neutered cruising by. Our family joke was born: the non-neutered cigarette smoking dog, who, naturally practices some hybrid version of French/Marxist philosophy.

Things he might say –

“If I want to pee on that tree, I have the freedom to pee on that tree,” inhales cigarette. “My human oppressor cannot stop me,” exhales cigarette, “Le woof!”

“Life is too short not to drink toilet water,” inhales/exhales cigarette, “Le woof!”

“The bourgeoisie think they can tell me not to lick my own testicles in public,” inhales/exhales cigarette, “Le woof!, I do what I want in this short, fleeting life.”

“You humans think you know pain; imagine being forced to walk on a three foot chain all your life,” inhales/exhales cigarette. “Stinking human pigs; I’ll show you pain. Le woof!”

“Le woof” grew to “Le meow” and “Le coo” as we ended our stay in Paris. As we toured Malta and now in our first day in Noto, Sicily the game continues. Orwell would be proud.

Perhaps the Parisians have long understood that life is anguish and anxiety as much as it is capturing the small joys — food, drink, friends, family. So indulge a little. Love a little more. Run through the rain in search of the good chocolates and the decent bottle of wine! Get lost hunting down the best falafel in city. Dine with kitty cats. Now. Today. Six million dead Parisians can’t be wrong.

Inhales/exhales. “Le Woof!”

1. The Making of Harry Potter- The Making of Harry Potter is great for any fan at any age. Walk through the forbidden forest, take a ride on the Hogwarts express, see the huge model of Hogwarts, and so so much more. Share a glass of mouth watering butter beer half way through the tour, and see Gringotts at its finest. Celebrate your house with anything from a pin to a pillow.
2. The Cotswold Wildlife Park- Not quite a zoo, much more amazing. The Cotswold Wildlife park is a fun, easy thing to do. With lions, lemurs, giraffes, and more, you can walk through Madagascar, see a frighteningly cool insect house, and play on an amazing play set. Look out for the occasional baby animal!
3. Visit Stratford upon Avon- In Stratford upon Avon, the home of Shakespeare you can stroll through the streets of a charming 17 century village. Visit Shakespeare’s birthplace to see how people lived at that time. You can also visit his New-Place and smell your way through one nice garden. Tickets for the The Whole Shakespeare experience lasts for a year, giving you enough time to see it all.
4. The British Museum- Filled with history and wonder, The British Museum is excellent for a family day out. Explore the ancient Egyptians and their mummies, including a real life mummified cat. Attempt to read the language of hieroglyphics using the rosetta stone, famed for unlocking the language.
5. Explore Oxford- Take a peaceful walk in a charming college town, have a picnic on a river and see the sights of Oxford. When you’re exhausted by the day, take a ride on a punting boat. You can have someone steer for you or try something new and do it yourself.
6. Tearooms of England- An afternoon of peace and tranquility would not be complete without a fantastic English tearoom. Order a pot of tea, sit down, and relax. A selection of finger sandwiches, and tea cakes are quite delicious and filling. Enjoy a classic scone with clotted cream and jam and have a good day.
7. A Local Pub- any British adventure would not be complete without a journey to a local pub. Pub food such as fish and chips, burgers, soup, and steak and ale pie are staples at any pub. The top five most popular pub names are in the U.K in 2018 are The Red Lion, The Royal Oak, The Crown, The White Hart, and The Plough.
8. Richmond Hill- Richmond hill has a stunning view of the river. Just outside of London a huge green hill is a lovely place to have a picnic. Finding nooks and crannies are a fun way to enjoy lovely Richmond hill. just watch out for the rain.
9. Shakespeare Play- The many selections makes this fun and easy activity even more fun. The theaters are designed to look like they did when Shakespeare was alive. The Merchant of Venice was the one we saw. It was great!