Tuesday, August 30, 2011

My Arid Mind


dry arid plains
this I see
in  me
now.
words 
spilled into 
the forest of folks
that pay dearly for 
2 cents worth of
my time & 
brain
waves.
lush frolicking 
meadows of metaphors
spilled ripe across
their desks
while I
stare
at
a
__

blink-
ing
cur-
sor
that
begs
for
an
end
and
my
bed
...


Oh Jinksy, I love your arid plains & have been waiting for some words to spill out of me to dance across your painting. Alas, my days rob my brain of fluid motion by evening. This paltry offer I give to you, but I just wanted to say that your pictures are lovely. Thank you for offering them. If you like the image here, go check out the In Tandem site and check out some of Jinksy's other works. She has a great eye for colour! Happy Tuesday all.

Monday, August 29, 2011

None of the Comforts of Home


I stretched my stiff and aching body. I had slept in some pretty rough places during my travels, but last night’s nest on the ground was certainly one of the least comfortable places that I could recall retiring to. My thin orange sleeping bag added little comfort from the rocks, roots and rivets that served as my bed. The view held little to be desired either – a chain link fence topped with barbed wire, the dusty ground with a few sparse patches of grass here and there, and the rare tree for shade. I had managed to secure a spot underneath one of those trees to shelter me from the morning sun’s glare, but I still awoke shortly after dawn. I hadn’t slept much anyway. And while there certainly were none of the comforts of home here, I managed to retain a smile. I was in Victoria Falls. I had made it to Zimbabwe. Despite my lack of creature comforts, it felt like coming home.
Before crawling out of my cocoon to face the day, I reflected on some of the pleasant memories that I held of Victoria Falls. On my first trip here, I fell in love with the adventure sport of white water rafting. With the gang from my first overland trip, we had also explored the beautiful, misty park that surrounded the top of the gorge, watched friends plummet towards the water on bungi cords and tipped a few beverages on a booze cruise. That was followed by my canoe trip along the Upper Zambezi with Miki back in March. We had paddled along the river with not a care in the world, and been pampered with soft beds and mosquito nets after our outdoor showers to wash the toils of the day off our bodies. Once Brett and Oliver joined us, we also partook in a booze cruise of our own that had us all reeling the following day. On my last trip through, I again arrived with an overland company, but this time as part of the crew. I was treated to another white water rafting trip and of course the obligatory booze cruise that were a staple of all those trips. Alcohol seemed to play a factor in the fun, but that did not seem so bad from the security of my retro-wrapped bed.
This visit to Victoria Falls was different though. I wasn’t with an overland truck, neither as a passenger nor working. I had no friends by my side. I had parted ways with Eddie the night before, so no longer even had his company or guidance to lead the way. In fact, after walking away from his land cruiser on the bridge from Zambia to Zimbabwe, I had a moment of panic at being solely responsible for my own actions once again. I was the only one to guide the way and was fearful of the path that might unfold. Thankfully, the morning sun burned some of those trepidations away.
“First things first,” I thought, as I scrambled out of my sleeping bag and made my way to the bath house. My present abode didn’t offer much, but at least the campground’s bathroom was reasonably clean. The other perk was that they would safely store my backpack, while I wandered around town for the day. That was a bonus that would at least help to save a few more knots in my grateful back.
I rolled up my “home”, strapped it on top of my pack and headed out to start my day. Once my pack was safely stowed, I crossed my fingers and headed to the bank machine that I had been urgently seeking since Tanzania. I was down to little more than dust in my ravaged money pouch, as I had been forced to break my last traveller’s cheque in order to pay Eddie for the food I had shared en route from Dar es Salaam to Livingstone. I did not begrudge him the money in the least, but was at desperation’s door now. The remaining Rand that I held didn’t amount to enough to get me to Cape Town. I couldn’t think about that now though. 
Not daring to wonder what I would do if my card got rejected again, I slid the card in, punched in some numbers and held my breath. There was what seemed like a painfully long wait, as the machine processed my request. The sweet sound of gears grinding finally released me from the tension that had threatened to overwhelm me, as money slowly slid out into my waiting hands.
It worked! I had money again! I could access my account and in turn, continue to travel. Even better,  I could afford breakfast!

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Saturday's Email of the Week: Somebody Hand Me a Kleenex

Saturday's Email of the Week

Oh my GOD, I thought I was going to stop breathing while watching this! I laughed so hard during the video that tears were literally squirting out of my eyes. My sides hurt and I worried that the girls would sleepily wander down the hall wondering what all the noise was about. While they remained blissfully sleeping, I snorted and chortled right through to the end of the skit.

Now technically this video was directed to me through Facebook, but I got an email that it was there from my inbox. And I went directly to Youtube to watch it, effectively avoiding losing 10 minutes of my life scanning my Facebook wall, so I think it counts! Anyway, it is my call and I think that this video is well worth sharing, even if any of you have seen it before. If you've never seen "Whose Line Is It Anyway?", then you are in for a treat. Put down your coffee and just try to keep poker-faced while you watch the antics of Drew Carey (super funny host), Ryan Stiles (a way tall drink of water), Wayne Brady (so dreamy!), Colin Mochrie (Canadian, eh!) and a surprise guest!



I hope that your week didn't end too wet. As I write this, it is too early to tell how bad Irene will be, but she is all over the news. I wish you all health, security, and happiness, plus a dry bed at night. Be well.

Peace.

Friday, August 26, 2011

Monkeying Around

I am "monkeying" around today.

Yep, happily enjoying a special present that arrived in the mail this morning.



Hoo, hoo, haa, haa!



Can you guess who might have sent it to me?



The sender is someone we know and love, who hosts a weekly meme that challenges writing abilities in 160 characters or less.



Hmmm…


Thanks Monkey! Not only did you help to put a special smile on my face today, but you also helped me to write a fun little Flash 55 for another great guy - G-Man, our favourite Mr Knowitall! So if you get a chance, go visit G-Man for his Friday Flash 55 and then on Sunday swing on by Monkey Man's Sunday 160 challenge. They are both worth a visit. Have a great weekend all!

Monday, August 22, 2011

Little Luxuries

Thoughts of home drifted through my head today. They were like unreal memories from a time that felt like ancient history and  I could not shake them. Despite telling myself that I had moved on and was fine, my brain still refused to let go of images of John, the ex-boyfriend whom I had left so many months before. It was his birthday and his presence was strong around me, as I idled in Lusaka.  I wondered where he was and if he had a roof over his head at night. Was he still dependant on friend’s generousity and the comfort of their couches, or had he found a place of his own to call home? It did not matter, but just thinking of him, I knew that he still held a piece of my heart, despite all that had happened. I wished him well and sent happy thoughts across the ocean to him, knowing that if it mattered, he would feel them. Odds stated that I would never see him again, but our spiritual connection remained branded in the far reaches of my mind. I wasn't sure if I was happy about that or not, but the fact still remained.
John was not with me now though. No one was. I was in Lusaka at a friend of Eddie’s apartment. The night previous, Eddie had gone out with his friend, while I stayed back at the apartment and enjoyed the luxury of a candle-lit bath with Leonard Cohen and classical music on the stereo, as well as poetry and the first few stories from Roald Dahl’s collection of short stories in hand. It had been a long time since I had spent an evening in that manner. It felt decadent and rich. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend an evening alone. And now, the light of the day illuminated the journal that I scribbled into again. 

With Eddie busy getting welding done on some of his equipment, it appeared that we would be spending another night in Lusaka. I didn’t mind though, as the calendar did not dictate my days. We had the luxury of a real roof over our heads and running water at our fingertips. I had no money to spend, but nothing that I had want of either. Food and drink were readily available to fill my bloated belly. A real bed and pillow would catch my dreams that night. We would depart Lusaka in the morning and by evening, I would rest my head in Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe.  It was enough to know that I still had food in my belly, good people around me and the means to get where I wanted to go. Tomorrow might be a different story. 

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