A crazy, funny, busy day…A new lesson learned…A year ago, Naples, Italy…

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These are the roses Gina picked for us last night from the massive rose bushes growing outside her aunt’s house.
Yesterday, was a fun day, unplanned and unexpected.  In essence, those are often the most memorable occasions, laced with humor and warm feelings.


I must preface this by starting with my terrible faux pas…twice in one day, I left the house without the camera, something I hope never to do again.  On both occasions I was distracted by the events on hand.



All over the mountains there are long steep steps as such as shown in photo, most without handrails.

Although, there are other unrelated photos I’ve saved for today, we’ll kindly ask our readers to use their imagination for these few stories.

In the morning, I reminded Tom that we are in need of fresh vegetables.  We always keep a few bags of frozen veggies in case of such an emergency but, fresh is our preference. 


Another steep set of steps without handrails.

Most nights, I roast a pan of fresh, cut-into-chunks veggies in the oven tossed with olive oil and seasonings, cooking them on high heat for 35 minutes tossing them a few times.  They tend to caramelize and are nothing short of amazing.

With enough veggies left for last night, I was more concerned about Sunday’s dinner.  The obvious solution was to listen for the produce guy’s musical truck.  There’s a trick to catching him when usually he and the other trucks seem to zoom past our house not giving us ample time to get out the door.  We wear our shoes in the house with Tom’s wallet nearby so we can dash outside on a dime.


This old unoccupied house is buried under vines and vegetation.

At around 10:00 am, we heard the music.  Quickly, we jumped up going though our little routine of getting out the door, Tom grabbing the wallet, me dashing to the street.

Alas, the musical truck had already passed us.  Tom said, “Let’s drive after him!”  I agree as he grabbed the car keys and off we went.  Luckily, we can see up the steep road that winds from our house and we saw the truck had stopped for another customer a half mile up the hill.


This photo does no justice to how steep this road actually is. 

Quickly maneuvering the winding road, we made our way to the truck in no time, excited to know we’d be able to restock our vegetable supply.  I was the first to jump out of the car and run to the open back of the truck.  The driver was engaged in a conversation with another man on the side of the road, paying no attention to us.

Approaching the open back of the truck, a sinking feeling came over me when I realized there were no vegetables.  As I looked further, I gasped, as Tom approached the truck.  “It’s not vegetables,”  I said as I began to laugh, “It’s live chickens!”


These are mailboxes in our neighborhood.

Peering into the back of the truck, we saw a cage filled with live chickens ready for purchase by an ambitious cook.  My first thought was that I didn’t have the camera.  My second thought was that I’m definitely not that ambitious a cook. Tom agreed that neither was he.  We giggled, waved to the chicken truck guy and returned home, hoping the vegetable truck guy would soon appear. 

He never did.  The fish truck guy drove passed once again but, we had no room in the freezer for more fish after our recent purchase of the “catch of the day.”


This old run down house is out of place in the charming area.

It was a windy day and we’d decided to stay in.  I was cooking two different dinners; grilled tuna for me (the second night) and meatballs with sauce and grated cheese for Tom, salad and the remaining roasted vegetables.  Plus, I had a few loads of laundry to do which we’d have to dry indoors in the high winds.

The remainder of the day was relatively quiet.  I spent time posting for the day.  Tom worked on our future travels.  We paid the final payment on the upcoming cruise from London to Boston leaving on August 31st, a mere 74 days from today.


The colors of flowers on the island is breathtaking.

Dinner was delightful as always. We watched an episode of “Last Comic Standing” laughing all the while, content to be healthy, together and loving our home in Madeira, now three weeks into our stay.

After dinner, we heard a knock at the door, jumping up wondering who it may be.  Of course, it was none other than our dear friend Gina, stopping by to see if we needed anything.  I had wanted to give her some of the “atum,” (tuna) anyway so her timing was perfect.  She was especially thrilled when she told us that the fish truck doesn’t come to Funchal, where she, her husband and daughter live.


Are these gardenias?  The smell was lovely!

The only request we had was for her to describe where we could find the two local restaurants here in Campanario.  Immediately, her eyes lit up and she announced, “Come, let’s go. I show you!”

We all jumped into the blue rental car and took off up the hill as Gina directed us.  As soon as we were on our way, once again, I realized I’d forgotten the camera.  It was getting dark and it wouldn’t matter anyway, I justified to myself.  How sorry I was. 


A yellow rose we found on a walk.

Gina’s bubbly enthusiasm is contagious. We love being with her.  She directed us to her aunt’s house first so she could pick roses for me.  The sprawling house was charming surrounded by flowers in full bloom.  Oh, camera.  Her aunt who has been ill for some time, waved to us from the rooftop.  Her uncle bantered on cheerfully in Portuguese and we were instantly charmed.

Roses picked and in my hands, we were back on the hilly, curvy roads to the restaurants. Three times I asked Tom, “Are you sure you’ll remember how to find these?”  Three times he smiled assuring me he would.  He’s so patient with me when I ask the same question several times, getting the same answer each time.

As darkness fell, we arrived at the restaurants, close to one another by no more than a few long blocks on winding roads.  Over the next few weeks we’ll try them both.  One of them has a very unusual theme which we’ll go to first and share here with photos and details.  We can hardly wait!

Tourists walking on the “levada” the path above our house.

Gina had Tom return over a different route showing us the “levada” a long walking path in the mountains which we’ll soon explore.  As we returned to our street, we let her off at her sister’s house, another gorgeous vacation rental she insisted we come inside and see. 


It was beautiful. Her husband had designed and built the house as he has many of the houses in the area. Gina had been busy cleaning getting ready for the next arriving guests.  As it turns out most of the homeowners in this area are Gina’s relatives, as she pointed out one house after another on the beautiful street.

She asked if we liked “our” house more than the sister’s and if we’d have preferred it.  We confirmed that we love our house as she smiled from ear to ear, happy that we’re happy.  She’s asked this question several times in the past three weeks and each time we’ve assured her that we are very happy.  (Perhaps, Gina has the same question asking syndrome that I do).


These tangled vines are at the base of a palm type tree.

After the house tour, now fully dark, we decided to head home.  It was 10:00 pm. We hugged Gina and her husband goodbye and made the drive down the hill to our house. 

Tom couldn’t find the keys to the house.  He thought he’d brought them with us when we headed out realizing that he’d locked them inside.  Hurriedly, we drove back up the hill hoping Gina would still be there.  Thank goodness, she was still there but, didn’t have an extra set of keys.  She called her father who lives nearby and keeps an extra set of keys. We waited for him to arrive and he appeared a short time later.


Terraced gardens are seen everywhere on the island.

We were thrilled to finally meet Antonio.  We’ve waved at him several times when we’ve seen him working in his massive gardens.  Shaking his hand, calloused from years of hard work, brought back memories of my grandfather who’s large calloused hands never hesitated to hold a hand or gently pat a cheek.

Soon, we were back home after Gina’s daughter insisted on running the keys back to Antonio after we were safely inside. Our keys were on the inside of the door where we’d left them.  Had Gina left, we’d have been in quite the predicament.  Once again, we dodged a bullet or, in other words…safari luck.

Tomorrow, we’ll be back with more new photos from today’s outing. I  promised I won’t forget to bring the camera! And, Tom won’t forget the keys!
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Here is the photo from one year ago today, June 8, 2013:


Our ship docked in Naples, Italy.  With the few excursions available and at this point, having seen so many historical buildings, we decided against going on a crowded bus tour. For details for this date when we had issues with our rented MiFi which continued for the next three months when we lived in Tuscany, please click here.
 

Personal discovery…Impacts our future travels…More on the storm at sea…From one year ago at the end of today’s post…

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Oh, please, would that I could partake of this scrumptious colorful confection?  Alas, a quick peek is all that’s in the cards for me. Tom said, “Red dye # whatever!  No loss!”  Food safety regulations so familiar to many of us from our home countries may be non-existent in some countries.

With 22 days left until we depart Morocco for the exquisite island of Madeira, Portugal, our activity level in Morocco has leveled off. We’ve settled into a comfortable routine with the acceptance that overly exciting experiences are not necessarily on the horizon over these remaining days.

Personal discovery becomes the adventure of the day as opposed to that of sightseeing. An important discovery, we’ve made this past almost eight weeks while living in Morocco, one that we suspected we each possessed, is that we are not “big city” people with crowds, honking horns, noise, and traffic.

These beautiful fresh roses were on a side table as we exited the restaurant.

In our old lives, we lived in a sleepy lake town definitely befitting our way of life.
A trip to the grocery store resulted in a friendly conversation with familiar faces, animated, and pleased to engage.

We had the blissful experience of this same type of familiarity while recently living in South Africa. Our expectations are high after those three months, a situation we may seldom encounter to that degree as we continue on.

There are newer areas in the souk that have been built or renovated as tourism in Marrakech increased in the past decades.

With several big cities looming in our near future with short stints in each location, we expect those visits to revolve around sightseeing which we anticipate with enthusiasm. After all, Paris and London for two weeks each? What’s not to love?

However, through personal discovery, we come to realize that we embrace culture when we have an opportunity to interact with the local people and their customs, which hasn’t been easy to do in this hustle and bustle tourist destination of Marrakech, Morocco. 

The momentum of the crowds in the souk leaves little opportunity for stopping for photos.

Most of the locals, hard working people, are entrenched in providing products and services to the tourist trade, which constitutes their livelihood, leaving no interest or time to interact with short term residents such as ourselves.

As we continue our search for the ongoing years of travel beyond May 15, 2015, we’ve learned a simple fact; that living in an area where we have an opportunity to meet locals and expats, is an integral part of the experience. 

Ceramic hand jeweled containers. We don’t ask for prices or we’d never get away with the shop owners determined to make a sale.

When one thinks of it, “sightseeing,” although pleasant during the process itself, is short-lived. Meeting people and making friends is a lifetime experience, we stay in close contact via email and Facebook with wonderful people we’ve met in our travels, a rich and fulfilling experience.

Of course, we’ll see the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower in Paris and, Buckingham Palace and the Tower of London in London during our upcoming visits. However, most likely, we won’t have an opportunity to make new friends while spending a mere two weeks in each location. We’ve found that most tourists, other than on a cruise, have little time in cultivating friendships while spending a week or two “packing it all in.”

The ancient exterior of buildings in the Medina provides architecturally interesting appeal.

Don’t get me wrong. Tom and I fully entertained ourselves and each other in the remote Boveglio, Italy where not a single English speaking person was to be found within an hour-long drive. And, we were fine in Kenya, where we had little opportunity to meet people when our neighborhood consisted mostly of unoccupied houses, their owners living elsewhere during the heat of summer. When dining out, we only encountered other tourists, busy with their own pursuits.

A reality of both of our personalities is that we are both social butterflies, easily entertained by a lively conversation whether in a large group or small. Both Belize and South Africa provided this beyond our wildest expectations, leaving lifelong friends in their wake. How fortunate we were!

Some shops in the souk offer second-hand merchandise.

Cruising, above all, is the easiest way to meet people when we’re all a captive audience dining at “shared” tables for eight or ten each night of the cruise. One would have to be comatose not to make friends in that environment. This fact, in itself, inspires us to book cruises well into the future, cost providing. (The prices have gone up, up, up).

At this point, we’ll continue to explore the souks and narrow alleys of the Medina with an occasional trip outside by taxi both of which we both thoroughly enjoy. 

This colorful ceramic store had several tourists taking photos so we joined in.

This morning when I came downstairs to the salon where Tom was listening to this favorite radio show, my hot water for tea awaiting me in my insulated mug, I said, “It’s good to see you!” This was an expression I used every time he walked in the door after work in our old lives or when I  greeted our dogs upon returning home.

We grabbed each other’s hands, as we often do when we laugh out loud, which is many times each day, realizing that my expression is a moot point in our 24/7 lifestyle these days. 

Steps leading to a furniture shop in the souk.  Of course, we’d love to enter to take photos. But, most shop owners don’t appreciate photos being taken of their wares.

Our greatest personal discovery throughout all of our travels is that we’ll never tire of each other’s smiling face, even when the location in which we temporarily live offers little in the way of social interaction. 
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Photo from one year ago today, April 23, 2013:

This was the very beginning of the massive storm our ship encountered for three full days after dropping off an ill passenger in Bermuda taking us on a different course, taking us right into the eye of the storm. At first, we were told the waves were 30 feet, 9.14 meters, later to be described by the captain as 50 feet, 15.24 meters swells, an experience we’ll never forget. For details of the beginning of this story, please click here. This story will continue over the next three days at the end of each day’s post.

Tom’s haircut…A razor…A ritual…A rip off, so says Tom…Our own fault…

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Tom, before his haircut.

On Tuesday late afternoon, we headed out with two missions in mind; one to find a barbershop for Tom to get a haircut and two; find a restaurant where we could have a suitable meal. Madame Zahra was still ill making dining at the riad, not an option.

As we nudged our way through the crowds in the souk, we worked our way to a less busy area where we’d previously seen a string of tiny barbershops. 

Tom, getting his haircut in the barbershop in the souk.

Each shop had one guy sitting on a stool outside trying to lure takers inside while the actual barber hung onto the doorway, hoping to see a passersby show interest in purchasing their wares, neatly stacked on an outdoor table. Neither of them hesitate to bark at prospective customers. 

In their minds, everyone is a possible customer, whether walking by quickly to avoid drawing attention to themselves, or those taking a leisurely stroll eyes flying from shop to shop, perpetually seeking the next great “deal.” Then there is everyone in between, like us, looking for something but trying desperately to appear not to be.

The barbershop was clean and seem to have all the necessary equipment, although no products were for sale.

The first barbershop we encountered, appearing clean and well kept, we entered as Tom immediately asked the price. “100 dirhams!” shouted the barber as we entered the small space.

Tom looked at me for a reaction. This was his deal. I was staying out of it. US $12.31 for a haircut? Is that so bad? Tom didn’t flinch, based on similar prices he’d paid in other countries. Tom said, “Yes, but are photos OK?” as he pointed to my camera. The barber agreed.

Tom accepted the offered cup of sweet tea, an apparent tradition in barbershops in Morocco.

I wondered why he didn’t bother to negotiate. But, knowing that if Tom was agreeable to a price, he wouldn’t try to negotiate.

Mohamed, the barber, spoke little English. The friendly little guy outside the door spoke some English. And the process began.

Clumps of Tom’s hair fell to the floor.

The first thing I noticed was that there was no sink in the shop, similar to what Tom experienced as a kid. At that point, I also realized that none of the equipment would be sanitary. I remember the haircut Tom had in Belize a year ago while he sat outdoors on a plastic chair under a tree, raised up to the proper height with cement blocks. I kept my mouth shut. 

As soon as Tom was seated in the barber chair, Mohamed carefully draped him, ensuring no hair would fall into the neck of his shirt or on his clothing. I sat mesmerized at his care in the draping. With boys of my own and attending haircuts with Tom since our travels began, I’d yet to see such attention to detail.

I was mesmerized by the speed of the haircut and forgot to take a photo during the process. By the time the shave began, I was back at it.

After Tom was draped, Mohamed moved to the back of the narrow room, pulling out what appeared to be sanitary wipes as he wiped his own face, neck, arms and hands. I wondered if he’d wiped off the equipment after the last customer but, again, I kept my mouth shut. Mohamed motioned to me to be seated in the few chairs that lined the wall.

Tom sat patiently as Mohamed busied himself with his back to us. We looked at each other wondering what was next. Moments later, he turned around, handing us each a small glass of tea. In Morocco, tea is typically consumed in small glasses, not cups. 

Tom seemed to enjoy the shave.  In any case, it was worth it.

As he handed a glass of tea to me, I asked in French to the best of my limited ability, “Est ce que le thé sucré?” asking if there was sugar in the tea. When he responded “Oui,” I responded, “Non merci,” gracefully declining his offer. I can’t have sugar. He seemed to understand by the apologetic look on my face. 

Tom, who never drinks hot tea graciously accepted the glass, taking a few sips, desperately trying to avoid a look of disdain on his face. I chuckled to myself.

Mohamed was also quick while shaving handling the straight razor with expertise.

So far, we’d been in the barbershop for ten minutes without a single hair from Tom’s head falling to the floor.  However, respectful of customs everywhere we travel and the fact that we weren’t in a hurry, we patiently waited as he performed his customary rituals, making no comments to one another.

Finally, Mohamed pulled out an electric hair clipper, plugging it in, approaching Tom and began buzzing away. I wondered if Tom was going to end up with a buzz cut but again kept my mouth shut. 

Haircut done. Almost done with the shave as Tom relaxed.

I’d never seen anyone so fast and so adept with an hair clipper. I wondered if scissors would ever come into play. A short time later, he grabbed a pair of scissors out of a wooden box and here, again, snipping with an expertise I’d never seen in any stylist or barber.

When done with the expertly done haircut which was not a buzz cut, much to my pleasure, he asked Tom if he wanted a shave to which Tom shook his head to a yes, never asking the price. Honestly, not familiar with the cost of a shave, we figured it would either be reflected in our generous tip or a reasonable add on to the 100 dirhams, perhaps in the 50 dirham range. How long could it take to shave him?

None the less, it was a good haircut. 

Tom later informed me he’d never had a shave in a barbershop, much to my surprise. After the meticulous shave and clean up, Mohamed unwrapped Tom, asking him if he was happy in broken English. Tom and I both nodded yes enthusiastically.

“What!” Tom said, thinking he meant 30 dirham additional for the shave which would have been a total bill of 130 dirhams, US $16.00, plus a tip for a total of US $20, a fair price based on local prices of products and services.

A short time later, we entered the restaurant for dinner.

Mohamed insisted on the 300 dirhams, showing us the amount on his cell phone at which point the little guy outside sitting on the stool came inside. We felt the total of US $36.89 was way too much. The look on Tom’s face was more one of disappointment than anger. What had been a pleasant experience turned into a manipulative rip off. How could the 8 minute shave cost twice as much as the 25 minute haircut?

Then, Tom’s ire kicked in and he said, “200 dirhams! No more.” Mohamed looked at me, then Tom and then accepted the 200 dirham as we walked out in somewhat of a huff.

The views from the restaurant rooftop.

It was our own fault. One of us should have chimed in when he suggested the shave, negotiating it at the time thus avoiding the feeling of being taken advantage of. Plain and simple.

All in all, the haircut and shave, well done for sure, came to US $24.63, not bad by US standards although high based on Moroccan pricing. With all of our travels, you’d think we’d have figured this out by now! 

More views from restaurant rooftop.

Good grief!  It’s not a lot of money in the realm of things but it was the principle more than anything. Tom was frustrated with himself less over the money and more over the fact that he failed to negotiate.

Later in the restaurant, his mood was one I’d seen before, one of self recrimination. “Let is go,” I assured him.  “It’s no big deal. You got a great haircut and a shave, well deserved with how little you ever spend on yourself.”
“Besides,” I continued, “now we’re even.”

Palm trees are occasionally seen in the Medina.

“Even for what?” he asked.

“I paid too much for the belt I purchased a few weeks ago when you grumbled that I didn’t negotiate.”

“Yep.,” he said, “We are even, aren’t we?”

We grabbed our menus contemplating what we’d order for dinner, smiles on our faces.

By the way, this morning we asked Adil how much is should have been for a haircut and shave. He told us the total should have been 70 dirhams, US $8.62. Oh.
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Photo from one year ago today, April 17, 2013:

We were waiting to clear immigration in order to get off the ship in St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands where I was meeting up with an old friend, a former Minnesotan, who’d lived there for many years. Once cleared, Tom walked with me to our meeting point leaving me to visit with my friend. A few hours later, he met up with me for the long walk back to the ship. For details of this story, please click here.

First outing in days…New photos…On the mend….

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This building, a short walk from PepeNero, attracted our attention. We approached the guard, asking if we could go inside and take a look around. He shook his head, “No, Madame. This is the palace of the king.” We walked away laughing at our “faux pas.”

How did I get so lucky that many wrote to us offering various solutions for my ill health? My sister researched online and found a nearby English speaking doctor in a clinic, a short cab ride away. A dear friend offered to have her doctor call me on Skype for an online appointment.

If one loves cats, Marrakech is the place to visit.
These three cats were enjoying the balmy day next to one another.
The stray cats are fed and cared for by the locals.  We’ve yet to see one that looked unhealthy or underfed.

Many of our friends sent well wishes by email and some posted online. Thanks to everyone for your kindness and concern. A few chastised me for not seeing a doctor, saying so with the most caring of intentions.

Aubergine is popular in Morocco, used extensively in cooking. It’s actually a fruit but is extremely low in carbs and sugar, which enables me to eat it. It is in the eggplant family with a taste and texture almost identical to eggplant. We’ve never seen aubergine in any other country.

As I write this I’m halfway through the six pill dose of Cipro and today, I’m almost completely better, only a little weak from all the lying around. “They,” say that one begins to lose muscle mass within 18 hours of lying in bed (or on a sofa). It takes time to rebuild one’s energy and sense of well being.

This was the first shoe store of this type that we’ve seen in the souk. Most of the shoes follow a similar style, colorful with low heels, mostly made of cloth and plastic as opposed to leather.

Yesterday, we went out to lunch, back to our favorite new restaurant, PepeNero, where we had a fabulous lunch. The long walk was challenging for the first time out in days but, Tom managed to walk at my slower pace. By the time we returned home, I felt refreshed from the good food, the sunshine, and the fresh air.

It’s common to see women holding hands as they walk through the souk or men kissing one another, a friendly acceptable show of affection among friends and relatives. However, men and women do not touch one another in public. Tom hangs on to me since I am always so busy taking photos and not watching my step. Yesterday, feeling a little weak on our first outing in days, I only took a few photos, especially needing to pay attention to where I was walking. The narrow roads are uneven, filled with potholes, grates, and tripping hazards.

Today, the wheels are in motion again as we begin to lock up plans for sightseeing at long last. Honestly, I now know, after getting sick the second day here, that I dragged my feet in wanting to get out at all. Something wasn’t right and I knew it. Arriving on March 1st, I guess I’ve been ill for almost three weeks, forcing myself to do everything we actually did.

Taking a new way back home, we spotted this colorful olive and pickled vegetable area with one display after another of appealing items. Our meals at home include many olives commonly used in Moroccan cooking.

As soon as we hear from Samir today, we’ll start booking our plans. Finally, I feel excited. Tom, of course, has been my usual “go with the flow” guy supportive of whatever I’ve needed. That doesn’t mean that I “run the show.” We both share in decisions. 

This kindly vendor allowed me to take a photo of his beautiful display.  Most Muslim people do not allow photographs of themselves, which we respect when taking photos.  As a result, he covered his face as I took this shot.

It’s raining today, which unfortunately will keep us indoors. Everything is outdoors and it makes no sense to be getting wet while recovering. However, we don’t feel trapped when staying in. 

We’ll easily entertain ourselves researching future travels, playing Gin, reading, chatting, and watching world news on either of the two English speaking news channels, BBC and Bloomberg. Also, we spend time chatting with friends and family on Facebook or via email, never feeling alone or bored. 

After all, life isn’t always exciting, a fact that makes the exciting times all the more meaningful. However, going forward, a little excitement is exactly what the doctor ordered!

There’s nothing like a good laugh, a good meal and another night in the bush…Photos and a video today…

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A first glance, these could be a fashion-forward pair of women’s black boots. Nope. They’re the hind legs of a Warthog. Actually, all four legs have these spiky heels. This made us laugh.
 We took this video a few minutes ago. Every time that we run water into the pool, due to a slow leak, the nocturnal bushbabies make lots of noise, making us laugh.
We laugh easily. Tom, over corny jokes and puns, befitting a situation and me, over the irony of daily life. Put us together and one will incite the other into a good chuckle many times a day. 
Warthogs are always on the lookout for a morsel.  Notice how they get on their front knees when discovering a morsel. We howled over this when on safari in the Masai Mara and now, again here.
Baby butts up on the air, on their knees, eating the vegetation around this tree.

Living in the bush, in a constant state of awe of our surroundings, we find humor in the most mundane of events or in the interesting activities of the wildlife surrounding us. 

Butting heads while the third baby stands by, awaiting a turn.
Moments later, he got his turn to butt heads while the former participant wandered away.
The determination of a dung beetle is laugh-worthy as its female counterpart stays atop the ball of dung, running feverishly as he anxiously moves it along using his back legs to push and his front legs to gain a foothold on the ground. Or, the face of a zebra that stands at our railing with what appears to be a smile on his face, inciting a comment and chuckle out of us.
When we first arrived, we noticed a baby warthog lying still on the driveway. Several of the others stopped by, sniffing it and walking away. The mother sniffed it and walked away. We panicked thinking the baby was dead. Suddenly, it jumped up, engaging in play with the others. Now, we observe this as a common occurrence, perhaps a behavior of dominance.
These two kissed and sniffed each other while lying down.

The vegetation stuffed cheeks of the giraffe when he takes a break from his treetop munching to check us out, making eye contact, not only warms our hearts but makes us laugh. Mother Nature has a sense of humor.  Surely us humans, are funny with our rituals, habits and, actions. 

This baby did the same as the others as if playing dead.
This mother stopped to look at me.  The way warthogs make eye contact and listen to my voice, makes me laugh every day.

We’re not laughing at them and, I won’t use the standard phrase that they are “laughing with us.” They aren’t.  But, why we’re laughing is due to the fact that they are like us in so many ways: stomping their feet when they want attention, snorting when dissatisfied or annoyed, reacting sexually when visually stimulated, constantly thinking about food, needing warmth, comfort, and love and for many, the desire for companionship with their family and friends.

The standing baby was trying to nurse the lying baby.

God, a Higher Power, or Mother Nature, whatever your beliefs, made us alike in many ways so that we cohabit in this world together. And, at times, that likeness, combined with our differences, can incite a bout of laughter, a smile on our faces, or merely a twinkle in our eye leaving us feeling a sense of happiness and fulfillment. 

Without cause, they’d finally had enough of us and began to take off onto one of the many animal worn paths at varying points in the yard.

How fortunate we are to embrace this? Whether we laugh from the antics of our dogs or cats which is one of the main motivators in including pets in our lives or, the playful shenanigans of an animal in the wild, it is the same warm, fuzzy feeling that brings us laughter, pleasure and a sense of belonging, if only for a moment, in their world.

Goodbye, warthog family of nine with a few yet to catch up. We’ll see you again soon. 

Today, we share with our readers, some laugh provoking moments with one of my favorites, the maligned warthog, whom by now many of our readers may say, “Enough already, with the Warthogs.” Humor me. They, by far, have made us laugh more than any creature in the bush, especially when these events shown in the included photos occurred a few days ago.

Some say that their ugliness is off-putting. Certainly, they are no more ugly than Elwood, the Chinese Crested Chihuahua, who warmed the hearts of millions as the World’s Ugliest Dog in 2007. We enjoyed Elwood because he was ugly. Thus, we enjoy warthogs for a similar reason. Add their playfulness, their intensity, their determination, their curiosity and they easily become a favorite.

We ended the delightful day with this meal. My plate is on the right with the Brussels Sprouts which, of course, Tom would never eat. At least he’ll eat the green beans and coleslaw.

After their lengthy visit, freely allowing us to take photos of their most intimate family fun, the heat of 100F, 38C weather drove us indoors to the AC, another delicious homemade meal, a movie, a good night’s sleep.This morning we awoke to a live bat in the kitchen sink.

Life in the bush is hot and humid, filled with unbelievable insects and critters (we’re adapting). But we find it to be exciting and often humorous. 

Do you know what is really funny? That two senior citizens, former homebodies, conservative and cautious, are sitting here in the bush to tell about it!  

“Small Things”…a world of miniature wildlife and vegetation…Finally we found a Dung Beetle with his “dung ball”…plus the biggest insect ever!

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Zef, our houseman, held this monstrous insect Tom had fished out of the pool with the net.

It would be easy to sit back waiting for wildlife to visit us as we lounge on the veranda. But “easy” doesn’t always ensure the excitement and adventure of discovery. With our curiosity and passion to explore we’ve found a world of small things as intriguing as the big things.

It’s difficult from the photo to determine the enormous size of this insect swimming for its life. We may have saved its life getting it out of the water. It took a full day of hanging upside down on the tree limb to finally fly away. We might have thought it was a bird if we’d seen it in flight.

It all started with this photo of the most enormous insect we’d ever imagined possible that apparently fell into the pool after Tuesday night’s rain.

After Zef gently placed the monstrous insect on a limb on the tree, it grabbed hold of the branch, hanging on for nearly a full day.

Tom tapped me on the shoulder, saying, “Don’t be scared. I have to show you something.”  It was still in the pool, swimming feverishly for its life. Much to my surprise, when I saw it, I wasn’t scared, just curious, and anxious to take a photo.

A frog on the outside of a window.  Most frogs are active at night. We frequently heard them, but seldom saw them.

Zef, our hard-working houseman was here cleaning, prompting us to ask him what this huge thing was and if it was poisonous. He assured us it wasn’t poisonous, just huge. Tom then fished it out of the pool with the net. 

Not all small things are alive. Thank goodness, this Scorpion expired in the pool during the storm.

Without giving it a thought, Zef picked it out of the net, holding it up for these photos. After we’d taken a few photos, Zef placed it on a tree, where it hung for a full day (see above photo), perhaps recovering from its lengthy swim in the pool. We kept an eye on it, but 24 hours later it was gone. We haven’t seen it since. 

This blue flower, a less common color in the wild, caught our eye in our yard.

We must have spent hours researching information about this giant insect to no avail.  Perhaps, one of our worldwide readers will be familiar with it. If so, please post a comment at the end of today’s post.  We’d love to know more.

These tiny birds, the Red-billed Oxpecker (Tick Birds) eat insects off of the giraffes warning them of potential dangers. 

It was this discovery that prompted us to begin the process of finding “Small Things.” One could easily spend a lifetime, as some do, finding the many small curious creatures and plants in this wildlife and vegetation rich tropical climate. All we ever need to do in most cases is simply take the time to look.

Geckos are everywhere, both inside and outdoors.  Louise showed us how to identify their poop which contains a small white bead in the center, often found on stone floors, on countertops, and on furniture throughout the house.

Last night, we got this shot of the underside of a gecko as it crawled on the outside of the sliding glass door in one of the living rooms. (Gosh, in Diani Beach, Kenya we had no living room. In Marloth Park, South Africa we have two living rooms and we spend all day outside. 


We borrowed this photo (the remainder of the photos here are our own) from this website to illustrate the sticky nature of the gecko’s feet.

As the search for “Small Things” began, we were surprised to find many more interesting plants and creatures. 

This was our first photo of a dung beetle, yet to create his dung ball. 

My mission, since arriving in Africa, has been to find the dung beetle, an objective now fulfilled, as evidenced by these photos. They are everywhere. One need only look along the driveway where the animals enter our property where there’s plenty of dung and subsequently, plenty of dung beetles, such interesting creatures.

This was our first photo of the dung beetle in action. The female often sits atop the ball of dung while the male moves it along using his back feet while his front feet grasp the ground for stability. The female lays eggs in the ball so she tags along as he rolls as they search for an adequate hole in which to bury the ball. The ball is used as sustenance for both of them as well as the maturing larvae.
“Ah!” he says, “Let’s get this dung ball into this hole before someone decides to steal it from us.” Dung beetles have been studied and they are known to steal the dung balls from one another.

I know this is hard to believe but Dung Beetle navigate using the Milky Way. Here are some interesting facts about dung beetles. In addition, there’s this amazing fact about the dung beetle:  

“The individual strength record goes to a male onthphagus taurus dung beetle, which pulled a load equivalent to 1,141 times its own body weight. In human terms, that would be comparable a 150 lb. person pulling 80 tons!” 

Another dung beetle couple aiming for a hole for their growing family.

In our research regarding the dung beetle, we discovered a fact that made us howl with laughter.  While in Italy and Kenya, we ran and hid whenever an enormous black hornet buzzed us, assuming it was in the hornet/wasp/bee family. With both of us allergic to bees, wasps, and hornets, we were terrified of being stung.

With no specific landscaping in our yard, it’s interesting to see an occasional flower. In Marloth Park, the homeowners are to keep the natural bush environment to ensure abundant vegetation for wildlife.

It’s loud buzzing noise alerted us several times a day that it was in the vicinity. We’d quickly take action to get out of its way. We’d researched without luck trying to find information about what we’d assumed to be an enormous black wasp.  

Millipedes are commonly seen in this area which are harmless to humans although they emit a poisonous secretion that when coming in contact with human skin may cause an itchy rash. For the various insects it eats, this venom proves deadly.

Last week, while visiting with Louise and Dani, they explained that the loud black buzzing thing is in fact a dung beetle in flight (without its dung ball in tow). What do we know? We’ve only been traveling the world for over a year. Now, when we hear that loud buzzing sound, we look and laugh, no longer fearful (although we’ll continue to keep a watchful eye for hornets, wasps, and bees).

These mushrooms are growing in our yard.  Of course, we won’t eat them without knowing if they’re safe for consumption.

With over two and a half months left for us to live in this wildlife and vegetation rich location, we’ll continue to gather information and photos of the “Small Things,” which we’ll share with our readers from time to time. We need only to remember to look down or around us for the “Small Things” that God/Mother Nature created, all with the purpose of nourishing the earth and its inhabitants.

As Tom would say, “At least we’re no longer like the dung beetles hauling all their sh_ _ with them everywhere we go!”

Tomorrow, we’ll be back with our most extraordinary day yet in Marloth Park with visitors we’d find only in our dreams. Then again, every day has been magical.

Camp Olonana Sanctuary Retreats…Photos…An ethereal dream of perfection…

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Upon our arrival at Camp Olonana, we were greeted by a Masai warrior playing a welcoming tune on his flute. Following him and our concierge Christine, who oversees the flow of their guest’s experience to the edge of the deck overlooking the Mara River, we knew we’d chosen the perfect environment to fulfill our dreams of a safari combined with exquisite accommodations and service.

After the other guests arrived at the landing strip, we began the 25-minute drive to the camp.  Our combined enthusiasm and the sightings along the way, had all of us, including Anderson, chattering on simultaneously.

The fast flowing Mara River is muddy due to erosion and lack of man’s intervention. The local Masai tribes are dependent upon its waters as well as the wildlife and vegetation. It is this river that the Great Migration crosses over and again as it makes its way from the Serengeti to the Masai Mara. We missed the crossing of the millions of wildebeest but we did travel to Tanzania to see the tail end.  By the time we made that journey, we were so satisfied with our safari experience that we hardly gave it a thought. Someday, we will return to see it at the right time and more than anything go on safari once again. Tom suggested we return the year of my 70th birthday, a little over 4 years away. 
After our welcoming ceremony ended, we were escorted to lunch on the deck.  Within minutes of being seated, our chef, Ambrose came out to introduce himself and to proudly explain, he was well prepared for my special diet. 
We’ll be including food photos, a description of meals, quality of service, and a detailed review over the next several days. With over 600 photos to manage, it is a step by step process which we are striving to present as it occurred.
Ambrose, our well-trained chef, stopped at our table to get feedback on my special meals. Often before preparing my dinner, he’d stop by to assure me that my meal fit within the criteria I had sent them weeks before arrival. Not only were my meals the best prepared and tasting since beginning this way of eating, but the presentation was mouth-watering. Tom thoroughly enjoyed the same meals as presented to the other guests. My meal was always a variation of the main choices, leaving me wanting for nothing.
The all-inclusive camp consists of 3 meals daily, appetizers, snacks, beverages, high tea in the afternoon, and alcoholic drinks at any time of day or night.  Glass bottles of purified water were presented at our table at all meals and in our tent for drinking and brushing teeth. I was so excited I failed to take a photo of our delicious GF chicken curry lunch.
All produce at Camp Olonana is organically grown in their on-site garden. A certified ecologically friendly resort, the care is given to the food, and the use of water, fuel, and electricity were refreshing in this distant setting. For example, all electrical outlets were shut off (lights stayed on) from 10:30 am to 6:30 pm and off again during the night.  In consideration of our need to recharge our equipment, we were given a power strip connected to the generator that was available 24 hours a day. Many more measures were implemented to maintain the ecological integrity of the camp, which consisted of 14 tents, a spa tent, the lodge, gift shop, offices, and housing for staff.
The organic garden located at the camp, left unlocked for us to peruse at our leisure.
Our tent was #4 a short jaunt down this stone-paved walkway. The Camp Olonana, 5000 feet above sea level and cool at night had few mosquitoes and insects. The cool nights were heavenly, requiring a down comforter to keep us warm. That was a rather pleasant sensation!
Continuing along the tree-lined path to our tent, it was comforting to know our bags were already inside with little to unpack with a short time to unwind before taking off on our first official game drive at 4:00 pm.


We arrived at our tent, grateful for the walk after sitting on the plane, the vehicle, and the restaurant for the past several hours.  The word on the sign is #4 in the Masai language, not the usual Swahili spoken in most of Kenya, a few words of which we’re learning.  Here in Kenya, Tom accidentally says “grazie” for “thank you” which is Italian. When in Italy he said “gracias” which is “thank you” in Spanish.  He says he’s always one location behind in his thank-yous.  In Swahili, thank you is “asante” the language of most of the staff at the camp, which I couldn’t say often enough, occasionally correcting Tom on his “grazie.”
The veranda to our tent.  Approaching, it took our breath away.


The view of the Mara River from our veranda. We would like to have spent more time sitting here, but with our busy safari schedule, we had little time left for lounging. We didn’t mind a bit! We came to Camp Olonanato safari and that, my friends, is what we did, hour after hour. We’ve yet to show the very best of the photos, beginning tomorrow.  You know, the old adage, “saving the best for last?”


The comfy furnishings made is tempting to lay here and watch the wildlife to saunter or swim past from time to time. Actually, we only had time to sit here for one hour during the three day period. 


Although we were escorted to our tent the first time, Tom wanted to handle the long, sturdy zipper to ensure we had no issues. Of course, it was a breeze, opening to a virtual paradise of tent interiors.
Soon, we were unpacked, with our equipment plugged in, anxious to write here to begin sharing the experience. With no Internet connection in the tent and neither of our WiFi devices able to connect, we comfortably sat in the lodge to go online to post. As we’d mentioned the connection was poor, preventing us from posting many photos until returning to Diani Beach, where still the connection isn’t strong. We slept in the bed on the left, keeping our electronics plugged in on the bed on the right.  For the first time ever, my camera ran out of juice on safari forcing us to use the 2nd camera which Tom used less often.


Shortly after getting situated, we needed to get going for the afternoon game drive, taking one last shot in the daylight of the veranda view. Exquisite.
Additional view of our tent.
Our stone bathroom in our tent after we’d unpacked. The toilet is behind the door to the right and the shower is to the left as shown below in the next photo.
The stone shower in the tent, permanently built into the tent as were the closets. The walls in the tent as shown are actual tent material, tent windows, and tent exit as shown.

Tomorrow, we’ll share the beginning of our best safari photos with many unusual sightings in the wild, animals on the hunt, animal kills, dining in the bush, gorgeous scenery, and eventually, our trip to Tanzania.

Also, interspersed, we’ll include our communal evening barbecue with entertainment by a local Masai tribe. And, we’ll share our unbelievable visit, on our last day, to a nearby Masai village where we were welcomed and toured by Chief Richard learning the way of life for the Masai, so far removed from our own reality and so rich in its content.

Wildlife photos tomorrow…

Bats or just batty…

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Common pipistrelle, Pipistrellus pipistrellus, common house bat, a much better photo I took from Wikipedia.  I guess this is nothing compared to the bats awaiting us in Africa. 

One night years ago, after falling asleep with the TV on, I awoke to see a bat fly in front of the TV screen.

Terrified of bats I bolted out of bed waving my arms and screaming, scaring Tom to death. After turning on the bright overhead light and looking around the bedroom, not finding a bat, he assured me it was a bad dream and to go back to sleep. I swore I’d seen a bat.

Two days later I was cleaning one of the upstairs guest rooms to find a dead bat on the inside of the screen apparently dying after trying to escape. I jumped for joy! I could hardly wait to show it to Tom when he’d return from work.

It was less of an “I told you so” than a “see, I’m not crazy” when I rushed him when he walked in the door that evening.  Of course, I had picked up the dead bat (much to my surprise) wearing a thick rubber glove saving it in a paper towel to show him. He shrugged his shoulders, “Oh, it’s a bat.” 

Little gratification was found there. 

Why is it when women are proven “right” that we don’t jump for joy when we prove it?  And yet men will gloat for days?  Ha!

After that experience I became less afraid of bats, merely preferring they don’t fly around me, touch me, or live with me.  No more screaming while running around in circles when spotting a bat flying nearby in the night sky.

A few days ago, walking down the mile-long hallway in this house, I noticed this clump on the floor in a corner of one of the nooks and crannies, meaning to toss it many times as I walked past, never having a handy paper towel. 

My blurry photo, taken zooming in with a shaky hand when  I realized it was a bat.

In my old life, I would have picked it up as soon as I saw it.  Now, living in a more relaxed environment in someone else’s house, I thought, I’ll get to it, whatever it is.  It wasn’t moving so I wasn’t particularly concerned.  Besides, it was neatly tucked away into a corner.  I thought it was a small clump of leaves.

Finally, yesterday afternoon, realizing that Santina was coming to clean today and not wanting to leave it for her, I grabbed a couple of paper towels to remove the pesky intrusion, leaning in closer to get a better look. It was a dead bat. I didn’t scream. Instead, I took a photo.

I must admit that a bit of the old fear gripped me keeping me from holding my hand steady as I zoomed in to take the photo. Thus, the blurry photo.

Calling Tom to come to see, he made a mad dash to the hallway from the veranda. Looking closely as I had done, he said, “Oh, I thought it was potpourri!”

Need I say, I laughed so hard I cried, repeating over and again, “Potpourri?” I’m still laughing as I write this.

He ran to the kitchen to get the broom and dustpan, scooping it up, taking it down to the garbage to dispose of it. Surely, it flew in over the past several nights when we had the windows-without-screens opened when the temperature was in the high 90’s. Gee, I knew there was a reason I didn’t want those windows wide open at night.

Good thing we don’t have a TV in the bedroom.

The magic of Skype…

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Willie waiting to Skype with his “aunt” when we were in Nevada for business.

As a kid, I remember fantasizing about being able to “see” using the phone. In the 1950s there was talk about such technology eventually existing, being referred to as Phone-A-Vision (or something like that).  Here we are many years later and this technology not only exists but works rather well.

With the advent of cell phone service providing free long distance in the US, we weren’t frequent users of SKYPE in our old lives.  

For a period of time, I had worked in Nevada, leaving my husband and family behind. (Knowing I’d be gone for several months I brought along our precious little dog WorldWideWillie). With the ease of calling family members on my smartphone, there was little need to use SKYPE. Shortly after I arrived in Nevada my little sister Julie suggested we talk via SKYPE rather than on the phone.

For those of you unfamiliar with SKYPE please click here for a detailed description.

Julie and I began to use Skype on a regular basis.  Willie, a huge fan of Julie, went nuts when he’d hear her voice coming from my laptop while seeing the live video of his “aunt” who had often visited our home.  After only a few occasions, he’d anxiously wait by the computer for me to Skype Julie. He’d bark at my laptop looking up at me with pleading eyes, to make the call.

With both voice and video turned on while talking to Julie, I was able to walk around the house with my laptop showing her where I lived, the inside of the refrigerator, a new gadget I’d purchased, or the bruise I got on my leg when making the bed;  lots of “sister” stuff.

Since leaving the US we’ve talked to family members and friends using Skype.  As soon as we moved into our villa in Laru Beya, I immediately called Julie to “show” her our new place while we giggled in awe of this amazing technology. 

It was necessary to work out a few glitches with Julie to ensure a clear connection.  Discovering that turning off the video aspect along with her calling me using the Skype app on her iPhone, I was able to answer for perfectly clear reception on either my Android phone or on my laptop using the Skype app installed on both devices.

You may wonder, if we no longer have cell service, how can we make a Skype to Skype call using our smartphones? LaruBeya has free WiFI throughout the resort. Our unlocked smartphones (meaning we aren’t locked into a cell contact, our phones are classified as unlocked GSM and thus enabled for SIM card use) don’t currently have SIM cards but are able to pick up a WiFi signal wherever it is available: at this resort, at a Hotspot or any other location that offers free or a pay-for-use wireless Internet connection.

Using Skype, we have no bill to pay and no account to maintain.  All we need is a Skype name for others to easily reach us.  As long as the computer or phone’s sound is turned on, an incoming Skype call rings to a familiar musical tone.

What if both the computer and the phone’s sound is on and a Skype call comes in?  Whichever device we use first, to “pick up the receiver” via clicking on the old fashioned phone handle icon, is the device on which we will take the call.

Since arriving in Belize, we’ve discovered a vital fact about Skype that has saved us a considerable sum. We can call any US toll-free numbers at no charge.  This enables us to handle business matters back in the US calling a landline.

However, if one is calling a non-toll-free number, for instance, a friend’s regular cell number, as opposed to their Skype name using Skype, it is necessary to place funds into a Skype account using a credit card and to pay per minute use. For example, while here in Belize, if we call the local cab company for a driver, we’d have to pay for the call on Skype.  Why?  They don’t have a toll-free number.

We deposited $10 into my Skype account for this purpose which remains intact in the account, less $2.10 for one local call we made at the end of January when inquiring about a golf cart rental. Were we to call family or friend’s landlines or cell phones without their using Skype on their end, the call on Skype would be approximately $2.89 per minute.  As you can see, this adds up.

Back in Minnesota with a shared cell service plan, our average minutes use was a combined 800 minutes per month, resulting in approximately 22 minutes per day for each of us. While outside the US, if we each used the 22 minutes per day, our monthly cost through SKYPE (or through our old Verizon account which we’d investigated) would be $2312!

You may ask, why don’t we have SIM cards installed in our phones for use in Belize?  Simple.  We can use Skype for free.  Why use up minutes on a SIM card when we can use Skype at no expense?  If we had SIM cards, we’d suddenly find we’re frequently loading minutes onto the card while spending huge amounts a month in cell calls.  Plus, we’d eventually end up with dozens of unused balances remaining on SIM cards from all over the world.

As for the magic…my eldest sister, Susan, living in Boulder City, Nevada has been unable to use a computer these past years due to a medical condition. We last spoke on January 3, 2013, the day we left the US. 

In her career she owned a successful travel agency, traveling the world experiencing many cruises, mostly on upscale cruise lines.  How fun it would be to share our experiences with her!  She educated us on cruising when we visited her in Nevada over Christmas, tips that we’ve treasured from the moment we boarded the ship.

Without a laptop and only recently receiving a Kindle Fire, a gift from her daughter, Susan had yet to load Skype. I wanted to speak to her!  While “Skyping” with sister Julie a few days ago, an idea hit me! 

What if I call Julie on Skype at a prearranged time.  She picks up the Skype call on her iPhone verifying that we have a clear connection, (without using video which requires more bandwidth). With her landline next to her, she dials Susan’s landline while pressing the SPEAKER button. 

She sets both phones down on the desk and says to Susan, “I have a surprise for you on the phone!”  Susan cringed.  She doesn’t like to talk to people she doesn’t know on the phone.  Who does?  She made the assumption that whoever was on the line was a stranger. 

Speaking in a normal voice, I said, “Susan, it’s me, Jessica!  I’m calling from Belize through Julie’s Skype!”  

The three of us squealed with delight. Once again, we were together! The sound was clear, free of background noise or static.  It was as if I had called her directly on Skype.  We chatted on endlessly in our usual way with an enthusiastic interest in one another’s lives and well being. 

Well, of course, I can’t expect Julie to be an intermediary on all future calls to Susan. But now, she is highly motivated to take the easy steps to install Skype on her Kindle Fire, making it possible for us to chat anytime we’d like at no cost, anywhere in the world. I’m looking forward to that!

Another “workaround” worked for us in our world travels!

Last week, while talking on Skype with son, Richard in Henderson, Nevada, he was using his smartphone and I was using my laptop, both voice and video were clear. His funny pug Monty, heard my familiar voice, snorted, and licked the phone. See, dogs like Skype, too!

Thanks, Julie!  Thanks, Skype!

Playful night in Belize despite “24/7″…

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 Tom and I enjoyed the balmy evening, sitting on the beach in front of our villa.
I’ve never cared for the expression, “24/7,” thinking it sounded as if it were a lazy way of saying, “all the time,” “around the clock,” or “every minute of the day.”
 

The words “24/7” never crossed my lips until a few days ago while lounging at the pool, chatting with a guest at Laru Beya, it fell out of my mouth when she asked me, “Now that you both are retired, how does it feel to be together all of the time?”

Without hesitation, I blurted, “Being together 24/7 has worked well for us.  We don’t whine, snip or pick on each other. It works!”  I let out a little gasp, shocked at myself for having said the dreadful expression.  24/7?  Yep, that’s us. 24/7?  Yep, that’s most retired people. 

A few hours later, while again lounging, this time in the comfy chaise on our veranda, I allowed my mind to wander to the conversation with the woman.  After 22 years of being together with busy work schedules and personal lives, we’re finally together.


We shot this coconut tree photo in the dark on the beach in front of our veranda. 

How do couples make it work?  Over the years we observed many couples on their way to, and eventually into retirement.  Some made it work.  Some didn’t. 

Early on in our relationship and in many years to come, Tom and I surrounded ourselves with a role model couple we adored, Sue and Chip, our dear friends and neighbors four doors from us with whom we spent many enjoyable hours. 

Entrenched in lively conversations on countless occasions we discussed every possible topic, over fabulous food and drink, during holidays, special events, as well as on Chip and Tom’s shared birthdays on December 23rd. 


Hold it steady, Honey.  Its a little blurry!

As a couple, Sue and Chip personified the ideal of retirement.  Chip, retired as an orthopedic surgeon, used the finite hand skills he’d acquired as a surgeon to fulfill his artistic bent busying himself as a sculptor, artist and singer.  Sue, a charming hostess and friend to many, played tennis and entertained guests, surrounding herself with meaningful social and academic adventures.

Well rounded as individuals, they came together fulfilled and content, lovingly and unselfishly reveling in each other’s interests and activities.  Observing them during our countless times spent together, we knew we needed to follow suit into our own retirement with caveats we learned from Sue and Chip (never spoken but observed):

1.  No nagging, no complaining, no snipping and no negative tone of voice when asking or responding to anything at all.
2.  Expand on or develop new interests to fill a portion of your time in gratifying endeavors, sharing what you’ve learned with your spouse opening new avenues for conversation.
3.  Spend time with friends and family building relationships of your own.
4.  Socialize together always speaking well of one another with a twinkle in your eye.  Never complain about your partner’s bad habits (which seem to worsen as we age) to others, including family.
5.  Share financial status with one another on an ongoing basis especially if one handles the money more than the other.
6.  Discuss life’s concerns in a productive manner, inspiring solutions and resolutions together as a couple.
7.  Compliment each other, always seeking new ways to express your interest and attraction to many aspects of your partner, not merely complimenting their outfit for the evening (which in itself always earns brownie points!). 
8. Always give one another credit for accomplishments even if only one of you did most of the work.  After all, it is a partnership.
9.  Have fun!  (This can be achieved in many ways, if you know what I mean!)
10. Have more fun!

This is what we learned from Sue and Chip.  This is what we strive to achieve every single day.  It’s a choice, isn’t it?  It’s not a matter of circumstance one falls into via good or bad luck.  Do we accomplish it “24/7?”  No, but like any good habit, its easier to fall back into the goodness, if one so chooses.

We lost our dear Chip the end of May last year (see blog post in archives for June 1, 2012).  We miss him.  We’ll always miss him.  But, in us (and in Sue and many others who knew him and easily loved him) his legacy of love, laughter and passion for life continues on,  along with the fine example of a happy and fulfilling retirement as an individual and as a couple.

Last night we had fun, as we so often do, prompting our silly pictures posted on Facebook and again here in this blog today.  May it serve as a reminder that this, dear friends, is what retirement means to us, not traveling the world on one adventure after another but, being together living our lives to the fullest, living in the moment, with a “twinkle in our eyes” of what is yet to come.

Be well.