Part 1…A look at “real life” in the Fijian Islands, often centered around farming…

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As we approached this pair atop this table turned away from us while others curiously meandered toward us.

The longer we’ve traveled, the less interest we’ve had in traditional tourist points of interest, other than the often revered scenic beauty at particulars sites and the viewing and photographing wildlife indigenous to the country.

As we shape our “travel personalities” we’ve found a gradual change over time, one in which we’re often unaware until…a scenario is presented to us and we are overwhelmed with a sense of intrigue, compassion, and enthusiasm to gain insight into the lives of the true locals, generations of families working hard to survive in an often difficult environment.

So it was yesterday when we stumbled upon such an opportunity when all we wanted was to purchase fresh, free-range eggs. Since our arrival, buying eggs at the market, we’ve found at least two of each dozen to be rotten like we’ve never seen before. Rotten eggs (black on the inside) are most likely caused by bacteria. 

This is the beginning of the dirt road we traveled to Kusma’s house. Bouncing in the car made it impossible to hold the camera steady.  Thus, a few blurry photos today.

We realize this is a risk when buying free-range eggs from a market when we have no idea how or where they’ve come from or how long they’ve been sitting on the shelves. In asking around, we discovered from our sweet housekeeper Usi, that there’s an egg farm nearby, not necessarily easy to get to. 

Usi suggested we ask Ratnesh to drive us up the mountain to a little village of approximately 60 homes and see Kusma, whose entire family income is derived from the sale of eggs. The thought of being able to add even a tiny bit to that income, purchasing her free-range, chemical-free eggs during our remaining time in Savusavu, only added to our enthusiasm. 

Buying local has been an ongoing objective as we’ve traveled the world, supporting the hard-working local farmers and food producers in our desire for chemical-free, fresh foods befitting our way of eating.

I’d wished we could stop for photos but Ratnesh had to maintain momentum the higher we climbed.

Yesterday, when the sun peeked out for a short period with a downpour predicted in the afternoon, we called Ratnesh to take us to the egg farm and another trip into town for the Farmer’s Market, grocery and meat market. 

It makes us smile at how little we typically purchase at the grocery store, using yesterday’s purchases as an example; bar soap, paper towels, plastic bags, sponges and sink soap, locally made cultured sour cream (used in making salad dressing), canned coconut cream (without added sugar), real cream from New Zealand for coffee, ground coffee (only one brand available), sea salt (we’re almost finished with our Costco container of Himalayan salt) and Italian spices.  

Many items are simply not available here: Parmesan cheese or any similar cheese, grated cheese (we grate chunks of “pizza cheese” by hand); cream cheese; onion or garlic powder (used in many of our recipes); fresh mushrooms, romaine lettuce, parchment paper or a metal spatula, to name a few.

There are approximately 60 homes in this area, Ratnesh explained, many of them his relatives.
Over 40% of people living in Fiji today are descendants from India: See below for details:
“Most Indo-Fijians are the descendants of indentured laborers brought to Fiji during the nineteenth century by the British. In the system of indentured labor, workers (who had been moved to a new country against their will) were forced to perform a job for little or no pay until they earned enough money to buy their freedom. The system was created to provide cheap workers for British colonies after the abolition of slavery in Britain and its colonies in 1833.

The first indentured laborers from India arrived in Fiji in 1879 and the indenture system lasted until 1916. Other immigrants from India arrived in Fiji in the early twentieth century, and they opened small shops in the coastal towns. The Indo-Fijians are part of the South Asian diaspora (a community of ethnically related displaced peoples) that includes the Indian Ocean island of Mauritius, Trinidad in the Caribbean, Guyana in South America, South Africa, and North America.”

The only produce we’ve purchased at the grocery store has been celery which is unavailable at the Farmer’s Market. We purchase no meat or frozen products only buying fresh at the other locations.

One might think, reading here, that we’re obsessed with food. Perhaps, we are. But, a huge part of the lives of locals centers around the production and sale of food products. Why not embrace these foods into our lives as well, when we can’t eat out much due to our diet and, we love our homemade meals using the products that are available?

The beautiful vegetation we see in our yard extends to all areas.

For us, purchasing and preparing food has become of even greater interest than years ago when anyone that knew me knew I was a “foodie.” Just because the types of foods I can eat have changed, my interest and desire remain firmly in place to create great meals providing us with nourishment and pleasure. For most of us, we derive tremendous pleasure from food. Why not enjoy good food as opposed to unhealthy?

Over these past months, watching Tom continually lose weight, a little each month, eating exactly what I eat with the exception of some vegetables, has only added to our combined interest. Seeing his belly shrink month after month, only makes me happy in one regard…perhaps he’ll be healthy and around longer. 

Selfishly, I want him around and free of the health problems often associated with belly fat which also indicates fat wrapped around one’s internal organs. Also, he seems to like it when his pants fit. We don’t have the privilege of hauling clothing in various sizes to accommodate a change in waist size (for either of us).

With clothes dryers an unnecessary luxury in third world countries, clotheslines are seen in most yards.

I don’t give a hoot about the “look” of the big belly, it’s only what it represents that worries me, and hearing him huff and puff carrying our bags when he’s also carrying extra poundage on his body is also worrisome as we age. With the belly gone, his strength and ability to haul the bulk of our heavy bags have only improved.

When Ratnesh arrived and we explained our desire to go to Kusma’s farm for eggs, he hesitated. We sensed this immediately, quickly explaining if he didn’t want to make that drive, no problem. Usi had offered to bring us Kusma’s eggs the next time she walks up the mountain to visit her family who lives nearby. We knew it was going to be a steep drive on a muddy, pothole, dirt road, a challenge, based on what Usi had told us.

Ratnesh thought it over and in his desire to please, he insisted it would be OK as long as we didn’t mind bouncing around up the steep and uneven road. We didn’t mind. We gave him several opportunities to decline.  He turned them all down and off we went. 

This was the first of many goats we encountered in the area.  The only meat the locals eat is goat, lamb, fish (they catch), and chicken. 

I realize we wrote that the drive up the mountain with Sewak as the steepest road we’ve traveled in a vehicle.  Now, we can add, that the road to Kusma’s home was the most uneven, steep, rutted road we’ve traveled on during these past years. Wow! The ride in itself was an adventure. 

Sitting in the backseat by myself with Tom in the front with Ratnesh, I practically hung out the window taking photos. It was impossible for Ratnesh to stop for my photo taking or he’d lose his momentum. We continued on for some time until finally, he parked on a patch of wild grass when we could go no further.

We had no choice to walk up the remainder of the muddy hill to Kusma’s house. There was no way either of us were going to say we wouldn’t walk up the dangerous balance of the hill when Ratnesh worked so hard getting up the hill. Tom hung onto me most of the way with much younger Ratnesh offering another hand over a  few particularly rough spots. 

Finally, we arrived at Kusma’s house after we navigated down this slippery hill, still wet from all the rain.

I could easily have made it up the hill on my own but we’re extra cautious to avoid me falling, which could topple my delicate spine putting a fast end to our travels. We easily recall when the steps collapsed under our feet in Belize in 2013. Click here for that story with photos, if you missed it.

Recalling the hike to the Queen’s Bath in Kauai (click here for the story, if you missed it as well), I knew we could make it. By far, that was much more treacherous. This was a “walk in the park” comparatively. For these young fit Fijians who walk up and down these hills all of their lives, this hike is a normal course of life.

Finally, we arrived, shoes muddy, bodies sweaty and filled with excitement. The level of excitement we felt wasn’t about eggs. It was about being in this tucked away village with Fijians who’d spent their lives in this remote area, often living off the land. Tomorrow, we’ll share the continuation of this story with many more photos including the trip into the village after the visit to the farm.

It’s these types of experiences that make all of our travels meaningful and purposeful; the people, their lives, their love of nature and their surroundings, and their willingness to share even a tiny piece of it with us. How did we get so lucky? 

Photo from this date one year ago, September 26, 2014:

It was one year ago aboard the Celebrity Soltice, on our way from Vancouver to Honolulu, that we experienced some rough seas. Check out this video. For more details, please click here.

Teaching an old dog…disembarking the Norwegian Epic soon…

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Disembarking Day.  We’re getting off the Norwegian Epic, at long last.

It was is with much pleasure that we’re leaving this ship. The
crowds, the lines, the noise and the chaos over the past four days since
departing from Barcelona on May 1st has been unnerving for both of us.
This ship, although modern, clean and attractive leaves much
to be desired.  The food, the service, the
entertainment and the floor plan are severely lacking. The service staff is
exhausted, overworked, all of which is evidenced by the fake smiles plastered
on most of their faces in a futile, although well intentioned, effort to seem cheerful.
Our sweet cabin steward, to whom we gave $60 tip, started
out cheery and animated.  Halfway into
our 15 day cruise, he started going downhill, forgetting towels, ice, and other
amenities.  Many of the crew members
became ill during the three days of 50 foot swells, never seeming to get back
on track.  Most of them were used to the
calm seas of the Caribbean Sea as opposed to this rough transatlantic crossing.

The food: frightful.  The only item I found
delicious, other than the dinner in the “pay for” restaurant, was the
“real eggs” omelet I had every morning, especially after I told them
to stop adding the 1/3 cup of oil to the pan and to use the spray instead.  Tom said nothing was memorable including the
specialty restaurant. 


Their compliance to my low carb, grain free, starch free,
and sugar free diet was a gallant effort but the resulting food was dry, bland
and unseasoned.  Every night, my “steamed”
vegetables, a staple of my meals, were either undercooked or sautéed in gobs of
butter, making them inedible.  Whether I
had fish, shellfish, chicken, pork or beef, it was a miniscule overcooked
portion. 


Our final bill for the 15 days was $1021, including $200 in Internet fees for days out to sea, cocktails, beverages and tips charged on our bill daily of $24 (totaling $360), one night in the specialty restaurant plus $150 for the excursion to Marseilles, France.  This proves to be around $400 for all beverage and tips for beverages for this extended period. 


Hopefully, tomorrow when we board Royal Caribbean’s Mariner
of the Seas for a 15 day cruise to Dubai, we’ll find the food and service more
to our liking.  Based on conversations
with many passengers, they’ve particularly enjoyed this older ship’s attention
to detail, something we found to be the case on the older Celebrity Century,
our favorite ship thus far.

At the moment, we’re sitting in our favorite booth in the
Garden Cafe as passenger’s colors of their luggage tags are called to proceed
to disembark the ship, go through customs and find their way to their next
destinations.

It’s now 8:00 am.  Our
color has already been called but we’ve chosen to disembark “last” since our
hotel room won’t be ready until 2:00 PM. 
We’ve done this on each of our last cruises which resulted in a shorter line
going through customs.  Hopefully, this
will be the case today as well.

Once outside, we’ll grab a cab for the short ride to Hotel
Grums, where we’ll have them store our luggage until our room is ready while we
wait in the lobby for our check in for the one night.  With books to read on our phones and our MiFi
we’ll busy ourselves reading and writing.

Speaking of luggage…OK, here’s the final tally.  After donating the three 30″ orange
Antler bags, we’re down to one 30″ orange bag for Tom and one slightly
larger black Samsonite bag for me, one carry on, one computer bag plus…two
duffel bags with our dirty clothes that we couldn’t fit into the suitcases and a
small bag with the cords for our digital equipment and a small doctor bag with
our toiletries.

As for the vitamins, I took 80% of them out of the bottles
placing the pills in Ziplock bags and scattering them throughout the luggage.  I should have done this to begin with but
then again, who knew we’d be held up for 24 hours by security over
vitamins?  Live and learn.  It’s all a part of the process.
Our goal, at the end of the upcoming cruise as we pack for
our 13 night stay in Dubai, is to be rid of the two duffel bags, the doctor bag
and the other overflow bag.  It will
require us donating more “stuff” or throwing it away.  After the disposition of the three bags,
we’re ready to let go of more of our favorite items.

The clothes we’re wearing today are the same clothes
we’ll wear to dinner tonight and again tomorrow since we don’t plan to open any bags
other than the computer bags and the doctor bag with overnight toiletries while
we stay in the hotel tonight. 


In my old life, I wouldn’t have imagined wearing the same
clothing two days in a row, let alone the same clothing during the day as when
going out to dinner in the evening. 
Alas, we keep adapting and somehow, in the process, we find these
adaptations to be liberating and to a degree, life changing.

Yes, you can teach an old dog new tricks. Learn enough new
tricks and perhaps the old dog isn’t so old anymore.

Its all in the details…

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Our crab cracking and dining tools 

As a person entrenched in the details, it’s not unusual to me that I have six tools one could use to crack crab legs: two types of crackers, two types of crab scissors, a pick and a small fork, service for eight. It’s not coincidental that I have service for eight.  Who would want to “shell out” (couldn’t resist) enough crab legs for more than eight people? 

This came to mind yesterday when I recklessly spent $48 for two bags of king crab legs plus $28 for the accompanying grass fed New York strip steaks.  

This is for three of us for Sunday night’s dinner; Tom and I and our friend Sue, who comes for dinner every Sunday night since the passing of her dear husband and our beloved friend Chip. She’s a trooper. Our hearts break for her. They were our role models as a happy, retired couple. Now, we are witnessing the depth of the loss of a beloved partner, excruciatingly sorrowful, a double whammy.

We laugh, we cry and we tell endless stories of our 26 years here on the point. (You can read about Chip in my post on June 1, 2012 found here in the archives).  We three deserve steak and crab.  

The combined cost of the meat at $76, plus the veggies and the salad, it may prove to be a $90 dinner at $30 each. We seldom eat in a restaurant.  However, each of the past two Saturday nights we did, first at Osaka in Coon Rapids with daughter and family and then at Biella In Excelsior with son and his wife.  

Dining in those restaurants, the average cost per person was in the $40 range. This justifies my $30 per person cost dining at home on this special night. After all, this is one of five remaining Sunday nights we have left before we leave for our world wide adventure.

Around the 15th of October, the processing of the estate sale begins leaving us no longer able to cook while everything in the cabinets and drawers; the dishes, the silverware, my gadgets and the pots and pans will be marked for sale. Ouch. My gadgets. Bye, bye, gadgets.

So today, while Tom is off to our oldest grandson’s football game, I’ll stay behind and begin the process of going through my many cookbooks.   

Most of my favorite recipes have been scanned, leaving hundreds we’ll never enjoy again due to our low carb, gluten free, grain free, starch free and sugar free diet.  

This diet gave us back our health, evident in the amazing blood test results we each received this past Thursday after Monday’s final doctor appointment.  Best results ever.  Everything perfect. The diet worked.  We’ll never fail to remember that we wouldn’t be able to travel the world for the next number of years if we hadn’t greatly improved our health by eating in this restricted manner. A small sacrifice in the realm of things.  

However, king crab and steak is no sacrifice, allowable for our way of eating. Besides, I can’t wait to set the table one last time with those six crab utensils before some crazy detail orientated fool such as I, buys all eight sets for a ridiculously low price. 

Hum, could I fit two sets of crab tools inside a shoe in one of the six orange suitcases?  Or perhaps, four sets in case we have company.

Abundant trade offs…

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As a logical, numbers crunching individual, I learned a long time ago, “there is no such thing as a free lunch.”  

The literal translation of this phrase may be construed as:

When enjoying lunch with a friend, who enthusiastically states, “I’m buying,” most often a thought ran through my mind of “Wow, free lunch! One less meal I have to buy.”  Nope, it’s not free.

The trade off?  Next time, I’ll buy lunch or, next time when the friend calls at 10 PM for emotional support, I’ll listen. Or next time the friend needs a ride when their car breaks down, I’m all over it. No, there’s no free lunch.

Remove any resentment or sense of obligation from the mix and we have a cooperative sharing relationship, friendship, a human condition entrenched in trade-offs.  No doubt, we relish in the opportunity to be a part of this magical experience, not only in friendship but in all relationships.

Within our hearts, the “unconditional love” we profess, for our children and grandchildren, we seek pleasure, pride, laughter and return of love. No, we don’t abandon them when unfulfilled, but we grievously hunger for reciprocation continually trying to inch closer.

No free lunch, this life.  No free lunch, traveling the world. Sacrifices? Yes, many.  Beside the obvious of leaving those we love, leaving the familiarity of the home we have treasured for 26 years and leaving the security blanket of predictable, but not mundane life as we’ve known it, we leave behind our most valued “creature comforts.”
What are they?  Will we find alternatives to replace them or will our interest in them entirely dissipate over time?  They include:

Our bed: A California King Sleep Number with split top mattresses with dual controls, with the ability to raise and lower the head and the foot for maximum comfort.  After many years of suffering with advanced degenerative disk disease, this bed has been a life saver not only for me but also for Tom.

My pillow:  A Tempur-Pedic neck pillow that has been highly instrumental in improving my sleep. Unable to imagine life without this pillow, Tom and I used a SpaceBag and our cute little vacuum with the hope and expectation that we could shrink the pillow sufficiently enough to pack it to travel around the world with us. It’s much smaller after sucking out the air, although heavy as a rock. Maybe, maybe not.
My Tempur-Pedic neck pillow before deflation
My Tempur-Pedic neck pillow after deflation
Our two comfy chairs:  Whether a sofa, a love seat or a chair, we all have a favorite place to park our butts at the end of a task filled day.  With our two comfy Flexsteel chairs, positioned perfectly in front of the big screen TV, we have spent endless hours together entertaining ourselves by laughing, talking, watching our favorite shows (many ridiculous) and lounging.  We never sleep in these chairs.  We each have the habit of awakening one another if we spot the other’s eyes begin to close.  Why we do this?  I don’t know.
Our TVs:  Whether cooking or eating in the kitchen, the TV is on in the background, although we’re seldom fully engaged in a show. In the evenings after dinner, we head to the family room to the above mentioned chairs, laptops whirring on our laps as we begin our nightly ritual of talking, laughing, commenting, sharing a funny email and simply having a great time.

Our dessert:  Ah, a year ago, when we both decided to go gluten-free, grain-free, starch-free, sugar-free and low carb, I quit baking the elaborate desserts we used to enjoy each night after dinner. Tom got fatter and I exercised harder. Here are a few of our former desserts, now replaced with healthier low carb, gluten free, sugar free items:
Elaborate dessert: Homemade Ice Cream Cake, perfect for a hot summer night. Bye, bye, cake!
Elaborate dessert: Homemade Puff Pastry Napolean!  No more!
Elaborate dessert: Homemade Butterscotch Meringue Pie (I used 12 eggs whites)!  Never again!
New dessert:  Unsweetened Greek Yogurt topped with GF, SF, low carb chocolate sauce, unsweetened organic shredded coconut and bits of low carb chocolate coconut protein bar. Not bad at all! (Tom won’t try this).
Our ice machine: Eight years ago when we renovated our kitchen we added a SubZero ice machine.  It was easy to adopt the habit of first loading our  insulated, handled mugs with ice to the brim and then pouring in our favorite iced tea, Crystal Light (using two packets to 1/2 gallon of purified water, as opposed to one packet). Our four little ice cube trays, now filled with jewelry, yet to be packed, will make enough ice to last most of a day.

Creature comforts will now be replaced with creatures, big and small. Comfortable beds, comfy furniture and my pillow traded for lumpy discomfort? Maybe. TV replaced with reading downloaded books, playing games, sitting outside at night staring at the stars, listening to the sound of the ocean, the roar of a lion, the laughter in the streets.  Desserts may impossible to make with limited availability of ingredients and icy drinks may be a thing of the past. 

Trade-offs? Yes, many. As Tom always says after we’ve rearranged the furniture, “Give me some time.  I’ll get used to it.”

Is a good memory needed for travel?…How I improved my memory after it started to decline…

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Peculiarly, my memory is better now than when it was when I was 20 years old (so I think).  When I turned 50, while working at a stressful job, my memory started deteriorating rapidly. I expected to be a mindless blob at 60, let alone, my now almost 65.  

I’d find myself wandering around a room, wondering why I was there, forgetting my keys (don’t we all?). On occasion, I’d get into a stranger’s unlocked car in a parking lot that
happened to be the same color and model as mine. That scared me. Remember names? Forget about it! Impossible, at that time.

About 10 years ago, I started working out after a five year hiatus during the stressful job.  The more I worked out, the more I noticed that my memory was gradually improving over time.  
Changing to a low inflammation diet and upgrading my exercise routine over the past year as I wrote in a post two weeks ago, gradually enhanced and thus, creating a leap in my memory. Plus, spending seemingly endless hours researching for our adventure, pushed my memory to a whole new level.
To sum up what worked for me:
3. “Exercising my brain” via hours of research, learning new information, decision making.
4.  Being passionate about any topic of interest which fires up brain cells.
Many studies suggest stress relieving activities such as meditation, yoga, and Pilate’s may be instrumental in improving one’s memory.  For me, learning new information is fuel for my soul, providing great stress relief and enjoyment. Thus, my memory improved.

Through this lengthy and time consuming process of planning to travel the world for years to come, I discovered that good memory was a benefit of good record keeping.  

Documenting our travel plans in a methodical order on an series of Excel spreadsheets within a single workbook was highly instrumental in building a foundation for our itinerary.  Keeping detailed records of our itinerary, deposits paid, balances due, a to do list, an estimate of eventual “actual” travel and living expenses, cruises, flights and other means of travel is a constant point of reference leading to building my memory.  

Subsequently, referring to this Excel workbook, without even trying, somehow I’ve memorized every detail.  Much to my surprise.  Its seems to me that, “the more I remember, the more I remember.”  This is a far cry from where I was over ten years ago.
Dementia is a common and expected fact of aging.  We see it in our family members, friends and acquaintances.  We witness lapses of memory in our loved ones, dismissing it, in part for fear of embarrassing them and also, for our own vulnerability. 

Perhaps, we may be able to prevent our own memory loss by being physically active, eating healthfully and living a proactive life. If we stay engaged, busy, passionate about our lives, purposefully and frequently memorizing tidbits of information while entering into lively animated conversations (easy to do in this heated political environment), we can retain and actually improve our memory. 

If we read to learn, not only to entertain and listen to others with undivided attention, maybe, just maybe, we will remember, not only what happened 40 years ago and also last year and… most of all, minutes and hours ago.

After all, every step of our lives is but a memory only minutes later.  Drawing upon those memories is the essence of life’s richness to share with those we love, to gather into our hearts in times of sorrow and to take with us into our old age.
As I close for today, it would be typical for one to make a joke, a play on words on memory loss. I won’t. I can’t think of any!

Lost in the minutiae…

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If we hadn’t had over six months to plan our travels for the next five to ten years, it would have seemed impossible, bogged down in the details. So far, I keep taking deep breaths moving closer each day, some days at a crawl, others days a marathon.

Unloading our home and everything we have accumulated in a lifetime, except for a few totes our kids will store, the six suitcases, two carry on bags, computer bags and handbags (Tom’s murse), could be overwhelming in a shorter time frame.  

Not only must we continually address the travel planning, the shots, the doctor appointments, the insurance policies, the retirement board, but also the mounting piles of paperwork to prepare, scan or shred.  

In the interim, we have “life” to live, dinners to cook, clothes to wash, flowers to water, everyday errands to run and most importantly, family to see as often as possible. Fit in time with friends, daily walks, answering email, Facebook lurking and time rapidly flies by, two months and eight days until we walk out the door, leaving Minnesota and everyone we love behind.

Oh, I’m not complaining. Actually, I love every moment. This in itself, is a joy filled time, complex with never ending challenge, hopeful solutions and tons of new information flooding my brain. I didn’t know “it” had room after the “information load” environment in which we live.  But, it does, grabbing every tidbit of new data flooding into it’s mushy cells.

Yesterday, we took most of our grandchildren to Train Day, a family picnic provided by Tom’s employer.  The little ones had a blast exploring the gigantic train engine, a bright red fire truck; bouncing on the huge blown up contraptions, eating overcooked hot dogs while hanging out with us, PapaChooChoo and GrandmaChooChoo, We had a memorable day.  

(BTW, I don’t post photos of our little grandchildren online.  Maybe I’m old fashioned, fearing online predators.  When they grow up, I will. Not now.)

Several months ago, I posted a note on my calendar (one of many) to apply for new debit cards. They’ll expire at the end of January after we’ve already left the country. Since debit cards cannot be forwarded, this would have caused undue stress.  Our goal, as always, is to prepare so much in advance that we don’t often have to “kick ourselves” for forgetting to do a task such as this.  

On our way to Train Day, we stopped at the bank to order the new debit cards. While the banker ordered the cards, a thought popped into my head: we must set up a wire-transfer account in both of our names, providing us with easy access to our accounts (via a phone call as opposed to email for security purposes). This was on my list for this upcoming October but why not get it done now?  Two more of the minutiae out of the way! 

Returning home, I immediately ran around the kitchen making the crusts for our low carb, gluten, grain and starch free pizza for Friday Night Pizza, our favorite dinner.  Later today, I will make homemade salsa and cornbread to bring to one of the last of a few parties we’ll attend tomorrow. (Recipes for all of these items are on my earlier posts.  Simply hit the search filter).

This weekend, we’re planning to put all of our empty suitcases in the back of Tom’s SUV to ensure they’ll fit, along with the two totes we’re bringing for my son Richard Lasica, a successful real estate agent in Henderson, to store for us in Henderson, Nevada.  If they don’t fit, which I suspect they will, we will price rent a small trailer to haul behind us or, bear the cost of shipping the totes.  More minutiae. It seems to grow rather than diminish!

We can’t wait to be sitting in a lawn chair overlooking the ocean in our little beach house in Placencia, Belize, starting on January 28, 2013 which is five months and seven days from today.  Oh, oh, while in Belize we’ll have to prepare our 2012 tax stuff for our accountant as soon as we receive (online, of course) the W2’s.  Yuck!  Minutiae!  You can run, but you can’t hide!

Orange luggage & boots update…

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You can tell by the little bulging muscle on the right side of my calf that I have tried to no avail, exercising my calves to build them up. If a scorpion or other such creature sees this gap in the boots, they may find it an appealing hiding place.This may warrant a visit to the shoe repair store.

Orange luggage, yes!  Fabulous!  Top quality!  Lightweight! The four giant boxes and two smaller boxes arrived on Friday afternoon.  How easily I lifted them into the house!  The Fed Ex guy even commented on the lightweight big boxes, curious as to the contents, amazed when I told him it was luggage.

Carefully, a little knife in hand, I slit the tape off the over sized boxes to easily pull out the orange bags.  Squealing like a kid, I couldn’t open them quickly enough, tossing one on the bed to unzip and inspect further.

The orange isn’t a Halloween pumpkin orange or the color of a naval orange.  It is subtle, definitely orange, comparable to the color of the mashed sweet potatoes, under the fluffy pillow of melted marshmallows to be devoured on Thanksgiving day. (We don’t eat that dish anymore…or even the sweet potatoes for that matter; too much sugar, too many carbs, too much starch.)

The bags are deep, well constructed, easy to zip.  Within minutes I loaded up one of the luggage carts with three of the 30″ Antler Bags, topped off with one of  the new orange carry on bags.  Yes, I knew they were empty. I wanted to see how well the four items would fit on the luggage cart.  Perfect!

Of course, when they are loaded to the brim with our “stuff” it will be different but…it will be manageable. I was thrilled.  Last night, I ordered two more of the 30″ orange bags after I sheepishly told Tom we’d each need three, not two of the bags.  

I’d expected him to flinch when he heard we’d need three 30″ bags.  He didn’t. He smiled at me, reminded of our somewhat preposterous situation, leaving everything behind, taking everything we need with us for the next three years, five years, ten years.  Who knows?  

We’ll manage. We’ll manage with a grin on our faces.  And when the bags feel really heavy, toppling off the cart, landing on a well-booted foot, we will smile, stop, help each other and keep moving on. This we know for sure.

And, my Clark lace up boots arrived on Thursday during the jewelry sale.  I didn’t open the box right away.  I had spent so much time looking online, that I wanted to prolong the anticipation a little longer, preferring to stay preoccupied with the sale.  

Returning home from taking down the hot pink “for sale” signs, I opened the box, feeling giddy over the great find, only to be sorely disappointed when I tried them on.  

The foot, a perfect fit, the calf, a fiasco!  I had measured my skinny calves before buying the boots, checking the detailed description of each possibility to ensure a good fit.  They called it “shaft circumference.”  The description stated a 14″ shaft circumference.  My calves measured 12.5″ leaving adequate room to tuck in pants to keep out 6″ scorpions.  They lied.

The shaft circumference measured 16.5″, leaving room for both of my hands to reach inside.  An entire scorpion family could reside in there.  No thank you. Now what?  Back to the computer, searching “skinny calf boots,  thin calf boots, narrow calf boots, skinny leg boots?  No!!!

Friday morning, before friends were arriving for breakfast I started calling local shoe repair store.  Yes, most likely, it can be done…the shaft can be made smaller, for a price, of course. 

“Bring them in for an estimate. It could be $70 or more,” says Bob of Bob’s Shoe Repair in Wayzata, Minnesota, where 30 years ago, maybe 40, I’d go to get shoes repaired.  Who repairs shoes these days?  Gosh, I sound old.

Monday morning, off to Wayzata I’ll go with the Clark boots.  Thus far, I’ve invested $149.98 plus shipping for a total of $161.98.  This could translate into a total investment of $250.  But, the end result may be a perfectly fitted, well constructed, long lasting, timelessly stylish, safe from scorpions, sure footed pair of comfortable boots, lasting for years,  that I will be wearing as we dash down the concourse to our gate.

Next to my sweetie, I’ll be wheeling one of our 250 pound capacity two wheeled carts, loaded up with three 30″ orange Antler bags, an orange Antler carry on bag, a laptop backpack, a handbag for me, a man purse for Tom (called a murse) heading to our next adventure. Homeless?  Yep!  Harried?  For sure! Happy?  Undoubtedly!

Sometimes it hurts…

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Awakening at 5:50 am after a fitful night, feeling exhausted from “running” in one confusing dream upon another, a wave of sorrow ran through me.  

This past Sunday was the memorial service for our beloved friend Chip. I wrote about him in my June 1, 2012 post (please see the archives) and was honored to be asked by his wife and our friend, Sue, to share that post during the service, with the many devoted family members and friends in attendance to say their last goodbyes to this very fine man. 

Lying in bed, thinking about Chip no longer being four doors away, that involuntary rush of tears filled my eyes. Deciding to distract myself, I ventured to “read my phone,” a habit I’ve acquired since first owning a smart phone; read my email, peruse last night’s texts arriving after we’d gone to bed, check out my newest Facebook blurbs and scan through Engadget‘s daily updates for the latest advances in technology.

Spotting a lengthy text from my dear younger sister Julie, a Hollywood TV producer, I breezed through the usual, saving her message for last. She plans to make her last visit here soon to once again celebrate her birthday. I was touched by her words, “Your home has been my haven, my peaceful place to go to recoup, to recover, to celebrate so many times in my life.” The tears flowed freely.

I was reminded how hard it must be, not only for us, but for all of our loved ones, to no longer have access to this comfortable home, surrounded by water, abounding with the gifts from Mother Nature and often overpowered by the aroma of loving prepared home cooked food.

It wasn’t perfect. It never is. But, it was our home for many years. We did our best to make it “home” for a little while to whomever graced our door, to send them home with returnable containers filled with food, always hoping they’d return soon to fill them once again. And they did.

While I allowed a little sob to escape my lips, determinedly I jumped out of bed, anxious to tackle the day’s tasks, so many of which lately revolved around the “preparations,” a seemingly endless list that must be accomplished in 3 months and 8 days from today, the day we leave.

WorldWideWille, a fine dog 

Scurrying around the house, bath water running, I emptied the dishwasher, filled and fired up the tea pot (still not drinking coffee!), neatly made the bed, and stopped to take a deep breath while staring out the window.  

My eyes fixated on the tiny headstone, a gift from a dog loving friend, where our little Australian Terrier WorldWideWillie was laid to rest only 15 long months ago. 

(If you are a dog lover, click the above link to his blog, written from his perspective, over the last days of his life. Please scroll the archives to get to the beginning). 

The tears, not quite gone, reappeared with a sob, for a moment, sucking the air out of my lungs.  Willie was named for our interest and love for the wealth of information provided by the Internet so long ago, as this blog was named as a tribute to him, for our interest and love for him. 

Ah, life is so complex, yet so simple, so joyful, yet so sad. We lose the ones we love, both human and animal, maybe now, maybe later, grasping each moment as a gift, as a memory that we behold wherever we may go for however long we may have.

The house and the things in it, the ambiance created by its warmth and charm, the breathtaking views surrounding it, is merely the tools that we used to build the memories. When the tools are gone, the memories will remain, forever in our hearts and minds.

A half hour later, ready for the day, my tears dried, a second cup of tea in hand, I heard a knock at the door. There stood my next door neighbor and friend, smiling from ear to ear, just in time for me to whip up a low carb breakfast of gluten free, Portobello mushroom, Vidalia onion, and spicy pepperoni omelets laced with shredded mozzarella cheese.

Life is good.

No taco salad in the world?…Recipe for low carb gluten free taco salad bowl…

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Low Carb (2 grams) Gluten Free Cheese Taco Bowl.  See recipe below.

Every meal I make, I wonder if we’ll be able to enjoy a similar meal when we are abroad.  Will they have the low carb, gluten free, starch free, wheat free, grain free, sugar free items we use on a daily basis?

Last night’s dinner was a perfect example.  We had taco salad that met all of the above criteria.  On yet another hot day, taco salad has a particularly delightful appeal;  warmed seasoned grass fed ground beef, crispy shredded organic romaine lettuce, plump, ripe diced tomatoes, sliced salty stuffed green olives and chopped Vidalia onions.  

For my salad, it was topped it with homemade salsa and sour cream I usually add avocado slices, but none for Tom. Mainly, he likes the meat, onions and lots of shredded sharp cheddar cheese. The added touch of the “bowl” housing all of these goodies, usually made with corn or wheat tortillas (deep fried) is often a very special part of the pleasure. The crunchy, slightly greasy shell allows the diner to scoop and dip the tasty contents while looking forward to the soggy shell at the bottom of the bowl. Alas, a gluten-free, grain free, corn-free, low carb taco salad bowl does not exist in this world as we know it.

Don’t think for a minute that I haven’t looked for one!  If I were to say I have looked online for such an item for as many as eight hours is no exaggeration. The alternative is to go for a pre-made gluten free, corn free, high carb tortilla which throws our low carb, no processed food commitment into a tailspin for a few days.  

Not that I am an expert on gluten-free foods, but I have engaged in some research on the pitfalls of processed gluten free foods to discover that literally all of them are high in carbs and/or sugar. That doesn’t work for either of us. 

After all, we are on a serious mission to be healthy, slim and fit for our upcoming lifestyle. The Internet has a variety of low carb, gluten free recipes, many of which we’ve tried and enjoyed. But, the taco shell bowls left us sorely disappointed.

While chopping the veggies for the salad, I had an idea about the bowls!  Mulling around my head was the little Parmesan cheese bowls I have made on occasion, to be stuffed with some delectable morsels.  They were quite a hit. Also, I contemplated the recipe for the pizza crust I had posted here (please scroll the archives on the right for the June 8, 2012 post for the recipe and photo). 

Melding those two ideas together, I came up with this gluten free, low carb (2 grams), sugar free, wheat free, grain free, starch free taco shell bowl which took seven minutes to prepare.  

Low Carb, Sugar Free, Gluten Free Taco Salad Bowl

1 cup shredded hard cheese (I used 3/4 cup shredded sharp cheddar, plus 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese. You may use only one type cheese if you’d prefer)
1 large non-stick skillet

1 large piece parchment paper (larger than the inside bottom of the pan) 1 large bowl (smaller than the resulting circle of cheese)

Place the large piece of parchment paper inside the pan, pressing flat to the bottom and against the inside edges. Don’t allow excess paper to be outside of the top edge of the pan or it may burn. Keep the paper inside the pan.

Sprinkle the shredded cheese into a circle atop the center of the parchment paper, taking care to create a large circle. (If there are lots of holes, fill them in with a little more Parmesan cheese).

Turn on the heat to medium high, watching while the cheese melts.

When melted, set a timer for 3 minutes. When timer goes off, remove the pan from the burner. Set the timer for 1 more minute to cool.

Gently lift the parchment paper with cheese round out of the pan, carefully flipping over the paper, centering the cheese round on the bottom of the overturned bowl.

Carefully, peel the parchment paper off of the cheese, while the cheese stays on the bowl. This occurs easily without sticking.

Gently press the cheese down to form a “bowl” with the cheese round. Let it cool for one hour. Remove from the bowl, placing it on a large plate for serving later. (The oil from the cheese will prevent the cheese from sticking to the bowl).

The cheese taco bowl may be made and left out a few hours prior to serving. Once filled, eat immediately or refrigerate for a short time.

Oh well.  Here I am finishing this post, reporting that Tom didn’t like the bowl!   He liked the similar recipe for pizza crust, but not the bowl.  Picky! I ate all of mine, loved it and then found myself eyeballing the uneaten bowl on his plate. Shall I eat it, being a piglet or toss it? Tom noticed me looking at his plate, observing my empty plate and said “Go ahead, and eat it, Sweetie.” 

Healthy, slim and fit echoed in my mind along with all the new well-fitting clothes for our upcoming adventure. With a lifetime of weight struggles, a single such overeating event could start me on a path I would later regret.  
I stuffed Tom’s taco bowl down the garbage disposal, listening sadly as it pulverized away.  Back to the LCGF taco bowl drawing board.  Guess we won’t be eating taco salad in Africa!

Not roughing it…

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We aren’t backpackers. We aren’t hikers, mountain climbers, white water rafters or campers. Maybe, just maybe, we’re zipliners. We like air conditioning, iced tea with lots of ice, salad with dinner, fluffy bath towels and 600 count Egyptian cotton sheets. 

Oddly enough, we don’t care for sightseeing.  We force ourselves to go to the Minnesota State Fair, every three or four years, rarely trying any of the overpriced, unhealthy “things on a stick.”  

We seldom go to the movies, instead preferring to watch it later “On Demand” in our own time, sitting in our comfy chairs while enjoying a low carb, gluten free homemade dessert.

But, we do like the laughter of our grandchildren running wildly through our house, the smell of my mother’s recipe for pot roast slowly baking in the oven on a cold day, sitting at the end of the dock watching the bottom feeder fish jump into the air on a warm summer night before the mosquitoes start biting.

We love entertaining family or friends for brunch or for dinner, serving foods we know they’ll like, befitting their “diet of the week” or special dietary needs. We love the ease we feel whether preparing an awe inspiring gourmet meal or simply burgers on the grill.

We love the well-fed and appreciative smiles on our guests faces as they finally go their way, giddy from the copious glasses of good wine, good food and the constant laughter.

We love nature; the cardinal alighting on a branch, the white albino squirrel leaping from tree to tree, a miniature red cedar sapling growing in the stone patio or the spunky yellow day lilies that bloom every year with so little care.

We love the fluffy white pillows created from the falling of fresh snow when we know we can stay inside, feeling that special sense of comfort that we Minnesotans somehow find so familiar and peaceful.

Will we see the Sistene Chapel?  (Last week, a young pop star on David Letterman’s show referred to it as the “Sixteenth Chapel! Hahaha!).

Maybe we will, depending on the crowds, our mood, the weather, the convenience. But, we’ll walk with the locals and their chickens along the road in Tuscany to the outdoor market each day to buy fresh brown eggs and freshly picked brightly colored pesticide free produce. 

No, we’re not backpackers or sightseeing fanatics. We’ll be two 60 something retired people living an ordinary life, that are easily entertained by simple pleasures, many of which will change, many of which won’t be available and many of which will be new or different.

As long as we can breathe the fresh air, be a part of Mother Nature’s bounty, mingle with the people and their way of life, have a comfortable place to sleep and a couple of comfy chairs or sofa, we’ll only enhance the joy we’ll have carried along with us, not in our overloaded suitcases but, in our hearts.