one of these days

I'll update the sorry state of this blog. Is it just me, or are you bored too?

I've been really busy, doing nothing really.

I went to Manitoba and saw 3 people I hadn't seen in 15-20 years. This was, um.. kind of startling to discover I'm basically in love with all of them. It's a funny thing seeing someone again you used to have a lot of fun with. I just opened the door to my heart for them to come back and it all translates into this warm squishy feeling of "Holy shit, I MISSED you and I didn't even know HOW MUCH and don't you DARE skip out of town again" And you know, life's short. So, just tell people you love them. I just have a wee bit of difficulty not inviting myself to hug them all night. Is that a bad thing?

I took some amazing shots that I'm just chucked to have in my collection. There are seriously, some old abandoned trucks out there. I saw a cluster of old fords in a field that I couldn't quite get to unless I got out and walked. If I wasn't on my way to the airport, I would've schlepped out there. I'm going back to get that shot.

I went thrifting and found the most ridiculously beautiful handbag for 45 cents and then noticed it's mate for 40 cents. The Mennonites really get down to thrifting. They also have change rooms made for 2. It gave me curious ideas. I did come away with the obligatory knit Mennonite slippers. I couldn't find any matching pot holders.

The best part was the Saskatoon berry perogies with white sauce in the middle of a no flour, dairy, or sugar cleanse. Way to stick it to me. It wasn't actually the best best part. That was any number of things..

-sitting at Denise's kitchen table after 20 yrs
-her party to introduce me to her friends
-knocking on the door of an handsome ex- fella and the gift of a really beautiful farm jacket- it inspired a poem
-seeing an old friend and finding them sad and staying the night to curl up
-dropping in on another old friend and their new bar and remembering how much the light in their eye's danced
-bar hopping with a friend in Winnipeg and sneaking them into my hotel room to stay up too late drinking beer and eating pizza.

I'm wondering now, how many years left do I have to pretend that I'm still 20?? Boy did I have fun.

once upon a time..

once upon a time.., originally uploaded by jayewell.

I believed in the past.

poem for you

You walked into a bar one night, on the south-side of the city
and said to your brother, 'look at that girl, isn't she so pretty'.
My doubts about that night are so, but you assured me it was true
It began the summer that shimmered gold before it turned dark blue.

You said we spent that summer talking, that we were surely dating
But I remember scowls and silence and silly awkward moments of mating.
A lifetime and one day later, I went knocking on your door
to find that you had all grown up, you'd had children and even more.

You aren't the same man that left that town so many years ago
instead you seemed the same but changed but how would I to know.
To make amends and bridge the past, you offered up your jacket
I wear it now with you inside, just like a little packet.

I wonder now, as I wondered then if our paths would cross again
with many letters of many words we put our thoughts down, without a pen.
To think of ways to travel near for picnics in the wheat
where we can remember what we forgot when the heart begins to beat.

So, while some will say 'don't look back', sometimes it's not the plan
but to turn around once more again to finish what has began.
I bet once more our journeys will bring us not far but near
Where we can laugh again and rekindle friendships, all within the year.

photos of my trip to the grassy green plains of Manitoba

green wheels, originally uploaded by jayewell.

you can see the whole lot here. I think I better plan to go back.

currency

Today I stood in the middle of my ill-spent youth.
By the hockey benches
and green grass rinks
where I smoked illicit cigarettes
after school
and played truth or dare with boys.

I walked down the alley's of my adolescence
and stole the sweet and tender young raspberries
from the bushes that defiantly taken root
on the wrong side of the fence.

Riding by a park,
I remembered the day when my friend told me
she lost her virginity in a hotel room
to a man she met in a bar.
We swung high on the swing sets,
our converse sneakers and feet dangling.
Kicking at the dust of our childhood
while we spent the shiny coins of our youth.

bust loose

abandonment, originally uploaded by jayewell.

I'm going to Winnipeg tomorrow to see some old friends I haven't seen in nearly 20 years.

street washing

street washing, originally uploaded by jayewell.

This is a favorite shot from Santiago De Cuba.

in my quest

For a better digestive tract.. I have recently eliminated all forms of sugar, flours and dairy products. This hasn't always been easy and has been somewhat boring. I pick up that soy alternative to cream cheese and notice lurking in the ingredients is the dreaded "cane sugar". As if the word cane in front makes it any less of a sugar. Hurrumph.

But behold.. the Manna Bread.. it's like a gift from heaven. Literally. I bought the bread today and enjoyed my 1st slice of sheer breadlike goodness..

My little loaf only has these ingredients:

Sprouted organic wheat kernels, filtered water, organic raisins, organic dates, organic almonds, organic cashews, organic hazelnuts, organic cinnamon, organic nutmeg, organic oatmeal.

That's it. No sugar (ok dates and raisins- but do they really count?), no salt, no flour, no yeast, no preservatives, no dairy, no crap, no nothing but allowed goodies.

If I could find a reasonable facsimile of applewood smoked cheddar, I would gently weep over my plain un-brown-sugared, no condensed milk breakfast knowing there was a better day ahead.

gig poster

Hoy Pena del Son, originally uploaded by jill y.

I saw this on a wall in Santiago de Cuba. I tried to steal it. At first I asked if I could take it and someone said- after 9 o'clock, So I went back after 9 and tried to take it and was stopped. I guess someone saw an opportunity because they made me pay for it. I think it cost me $10. Tricky part was getting it back to Canada.

I managed to get it back to Havana and to my casa. I managed to get it to the Havana airport when I was headed home and through security I went and left it on the other side of immigration. It's not fun being fed up, tired and hungry trying to negotiate with border guards in a communist country that you left behind a piece of cardboard.

I believe I pleaded, then got angry and then cried out of shear frustration with it all. They simply would not let me return to the other side of the line of customs AND I had spent all my money except for the taxi fare an didn't have 2 pesos to rub together for a mohito.

But.. luck rained down on me somehow as somewhere in the middle of all the people I talked to, I was able to get the darn thing back and now it hangs in my apt. A hand painted gig poster on cardboard- all the way from Santiago de Cuba. Best-souvenir-ever

Pintor

the artist, originally uploaded by jill y.

salad creation

Maybe I should share all the wacky recipes I have created in my quest for wheat/ dairy/ sugar free diet? I warn you ahead of time.. it's a lot of salad. In various forms..

Todays creation:

1 head of iceberg lettuce- chopped
1/4 cup sundried tomatoes
1/2 small red onion, finely chopped
1 can of tuna, drained
1 red pepper, finely chopped

Mix throughly.

In a small glass:

Juice of 1/2 lemon
2-3 tbsp olive oil
tsp dried basil
salt & pepper

Toss salad with dressing and add 1/2 avocado, cubed to top of salad.

thoughts in green

thoughts in green, originally uploaded by jill y.

Her Morning Elegance

lately..there's been an upheaval

27 days ago I changed my life in a small and tiny but significant way. I started a 100 day challenge to eliminate all grain flours, yeast, sugar and dairy from my diet. On May 15 was the last day I ate any of these items. I have also not had anything fermented- no vinegar or soy sauce. No black tea. No artificial sweeteners, no Cuban honey. No milk in my coffee. No pasta. No tropical fruit. No toast with my eggs. No cheese or yogurt. No ice cream in the heat. No- I have not had wheat, dairy or sugar in 27 days. Every day is 1% closer to the goal of 100 days.

I have had:

Glorious green salads with lemon juice and olive oil dressing
beautiful broiled wild salmon with butter, garlic and thyme
rice cakes with almond butter and apple
mixed grain oatmeal with fresh berries
hot strong and black Cuban coffee
hard boiled organic eggs with salt and pepper
steamed broccoli with butter and garlic
black beans with stir fried peppers, onions and bacon
better fitting clothes and more energy

Edit: Thanks for the feedback, Mom & Catherine. It's not as hard as I thought it would be. Today I found chocolate almond milk with no sugar. Crackers and pita bread has been tough though. (and cheddar..)

Santiago de Cuba

Santiago de Cuba, originally uploaded by jill y.

serene is not an adjective that fits

IMGP3531, originally uploaded by jill y.

I was in a little village outside of Gibara, Cuba when I snapped this. The water really is that color and it really was that close to the house. It was amazing. Do you see that little lagoon on the map? I spent a day there, wading in the crystal turquoise water. Rubbing my feet with soft white sand and generally not doing much except being amazed that people flock to the beaches of Varadero and here I was on my own private beach of Cuba. There's a little fishing village there. Last year a few visitors- Ike, Fay, Gustav and Hanna rolled through town and tore the place up.. literally. And it was in shambles. Beautiful, peaceful and serene shambles.


View Larger Map

I rented a car in nearby Holguin and drove to a little remote beach with the help of some locals. They knew some people in the village. We were the only ones on the beach all day. Totally remote. Totally secluded. Later, in a home (a shack really- pieced together from salvaged plywood, corrugated steel and plastic) we had the most delicious dinner of fresh caught fish, plantains, rice and a salad of fresh tomatoes and onions and finished off with a strong coffee. The hosts requested 7 CUC (about 9 CAD) for lunch and I paid them 20- which was nearly a small fortune- but so delicious..and so remote and special.

It was a perfect day.

You can see more of the day here.

the town gossip

the town gossip, originally uploaded by jill y.

The rally on May 1 in Havana

Habaneros, originally uploaded by jill y.

One of the wildest things I have ever been a part of. A major highlight of my trip to Cuba.

the weekend that went by in a week

I went to the island. The one off the coast of BC. The big one that you can fit 3 England's into. We left on Friday and made the 6:00 ferry and sat on the windy but sunny sun deck and I took pictures of people close up but from far away. Sneaky me. We drove to Metchosin and dropped off 2 water barrels and trailer, ate and apple and drank some wine and headed in search of our hiding spot for the night. We were staying "in our vehicle". Which isn't as bad as it sounds when it's a Delica with a mattress and 4 pillows and a huge feather duvet. Just as long as you're parked on flat ground- you're good.

Up and around a snaky road called Kangaroo Road and over a bend and through a thicket we found Sooke and the Whiffin Spit. We parked where we shouldn't have and fell asleep listening to the water rush up on the rocks. When the dawn broke through the windows, we got up and walked the Whiffin Spit I once walked with my mom and grandmother. The town of Sooke isn't much, but we found a funny little place for coffee and a recommendation for breakfast- The Alternative Cafe. Very good ham & eggs, by the way. We wandered into a house masquerading as a gallery and the following exchange..

"Are you an artist?"
"Well, no, I take photographs though."
"They don't sell. Get into something else."
pause...
"Where are you staying?"
"In our vehicle." I said with a odd sense of "so there."
She recommended the drive to French Beach, gave me her card and I walked away saying thanks.. "Maybe you'll sell my photos one day." She laughed.

So we went to French Beach and if you look at the link and see the picture with the giant upturned tree.. it's still there.

We drove back to Victoria and pottered around. We were unimpressed with our lunch at Rebar, especially as we happened to come in when they were changing menus and were rather ceremoniously told of our inconvenient timing. They did have some lovely salads that supported my newly acquired wheat, dairy and sugar free diet so we stayed. The cookbook looks better though.

We talked to the locals, with a craving for beef, we got recommendations from a vegetarian for a lovely restaurant named Spinnakers that required a 20 minute walk along the water front. The food could have been better but they did use locally grown, produced and raised ingredients. It made up for the fact that they overcooked the greens and veggies that the menu said was steamed and tossed in butter. We saw the veg-head on our way back which was odd since he seemed so vague about the place. Maybe he secretly grows their herbs.

Saturday night and the hunt was one for a superior or equal hiding spot to the one we found in Sooke. We ended up on a tiny strip of land crossing a tiny bit of the outer Victoria harbour called Ocean Blvd. A beautiful view of the harbour and Fisgard Lighthouse was there like warm croissants and coffee in the morning. Except I'm still on my cleanse, so no croissants for me.

We ended up at some cafe on Cook St called Rosie's Diner. When we were greeted at the door with a sign that said "no Chinese Food today" I had grave misgivings about Rosie, but we ventured forward. In hopes of recreating the ham steak at the breakfast in Sooke, I ordered the same again. But, let this be a lesson to you- you can not recreate the same meal with a different menu. The ham steak was reconstituted ham "bologna"- fried. While Michael slathered his buttery rye toast with peanut butter, I began to feel foul and then the waitress came and took our paper off our table without warning. Cook St Rosie Diner- I won't be back.

But while sitting there I saw an add for a shoe company with a rather dapper pair of sandals that enamored me so, and our next adventure was set. Later, with sandals on my feet we ventured further into dietary restrictions..

"Can I have the burger without the bun, mayo, or cheese please?" That was somewhat painful.
"Could I have the salad bare, with no dressing, but could you bring me a small amount of oil and some lemon?" The waitress looked confused.
"Is it possible to buy 1/2 and avocado?"
"Do you have any desserts that do not have sugar, wheat or dairy?" just as a joke.

Later, before we had to go, we rewarded ourselves with a trip to Fisgard Lighthouse and came nearly face to face with a deer in exchange.

So and there it goes, our excellent adventure of dietary restrictions, finding places to peacefully pee and sleep, retail therapy, and a historical rendezvous or two..

This humanity is craving for justice. -Fidel

This humanity is craving for justice. -Fidel, originally uploaded by jill y.

When I walked in the May Day Rally in Havana I walked for a while behind this man. His shirt reads "This humanity is craving for justice." This is highly ironic to me for Havana was once one of the most important Latin American cities and it's renowned Baroque, Neo- Classical, Art Nouveau and Art Deco architecture lies in near ruins.

Hemingway who spent 22 years living in Havana off and on once said "in terms of beauty, only Venice and Paris have surpassed Havana" and at one time the city had more theatres than Paris or NYC. But, it also had that American influence; the gambling and the Mafia. Of course, Fidel put a stop to all of that after the revolution and kicked everyone out taking back all private enterprise.

The communists said they would improve everything. They would fix the social services and repair the buildings and then they shacked up with the USSR and the famous US embargo tightened all the purse strings. When the fall of communist Russia happened.. well we don't even want to get into what they call the "Special Period" but death rates among the elderly went up 20% and animals at the zoo went missing.

Now, the country has gotten into bed with Chavez, trading doctors for oil and welcomed tourism (bringing in a reported 2 billion annually). They've fixed up the "historic" areas for the tourists.. allowed some 'brands' (Coca Cola, Nike, Nestle, Adidas and even United Colors of Benetton) and yet the Cubans who walk in the rally earn a pittance for their hard work, live in a city largely dilapidated, can not leave the island and continue to show support for the government responsible for this beautiful calamity and wear t shirts that say.. this humanity is craving justice.

I'll say.

The most peirced man in Cuba

the most peirced man in Cuba, originally uploaded by jill y.

I don't really know what to say about this guy except I came around a corner in Havana and there he was in all his glory. It was an outstanding display of individualism by a local- yes he was a local artist. I'm sure he gets stopped all the time by someone asking to take his photo for a peso.

the market man

the market man, originally uploaded by jill y.

the games people play

the games people play, originally uploaded by jill y.

"Dear God," she prayed, "let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry...have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere- be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost."

pg 421, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith; published 1943

ready to come home

I've been in Cuba for 14 days. I am now tanned and my feet no longer hurt. I have almost gotten used to the near constant and immediate condensation upon my flesh the minute I drink water and the way sweat pools into any available crevice.

I am bringing home:

20 Cuban movie posters
439 photos
2 jars of Cuban honey
2 bottles of 3yr old Havana club
1kg Serrano brand coffee
2x 454g Cubanita brand coffee
a handful of necklaces from Manzanillo seeds and a crotcheted shawl.

I have:

Been shit faced drunk 4 times
had dinner in 2 illegal restaurants and one private home
been sunburned on a remote beach
taken 2 collectivo taxis and 4 bici- taxis and a horse drawn carriage
woke up with a cockroach in bed
taken 2 bus trips and a flight
had 0 wedding invitations
marched with 3 million Habaneros to wave to Raul
fended off many many jinteros
swam with dolphins
ripped the ass out of my jeans twice
spent an eavening in a cuban music house
and almost got a tattoo

I'm ready to come home..

tourist vs. visitor

Tourists stay in hotels and resorts. They want everything to be the same as it is at home, including their coffee and they tend to get easily upset by the lack of services, conveniences and effort needed in travelling from their country to another.

Visitors stay in private homes, explore strange streets, meet the locals, take the local transport and take on the customs and the food of the area willingly.

I tend to be the latter. I don´t think you will ever find me on a resort with it´s all inclusiveness. I like getting the local money and bartering. I like meeting the locals and taking their pictures for a few coins. I´ll drink rum in a dark park with strange men if it means a few laughs and an adventure unknown. And I´ll gladly eat dinner in a tin shack pieced together after the devestating hurricanes and have the most delicious fresh fish I have ever had.

But, I will also take the organized tour when they spoon feed you the sights. It´s sometimes impossible to see anything otherwise you rent a car and hire a guide.

Today, I will visit El Cobre. Apparently the room of miracles contains among it´s 1000´s of offerings, a small golden guerilla fighter donated by Lina Ruz, Fidel´s mother. Hemingway´s Nobel prize for The Old Manand the Sea was there until it was stolen (and later recovered).

Tomorrow, I will go on a tour to Baconoa, which is in a natural park and down the coast. I will see more of the Sierra Mountains and the coast line. There will be a dolphin show and for extra you can swim with them. Ya, it´s cheesy.. but I have always wanted to swim with dolphins so I will.

But, despite my touristic ways.. I am a visitor to Cuba. I love the gritty pissy bits and the beautiful polished bits just the same. I´m just more likely to eat in a local dive than a shiny hotel restaurant. And I´m more likely to stumble through a conversation with hand signals and pictures than not.

Viazul

You suck.

You are one of 2 bus lines in Cuba. The better one, I thought.

My 1st trip, I was surprised when you turned out all the light and even the personal little ones and prevented me from reading. I was alarmed at your insistance to keep the air condistioning at full blast until you felt like you were inside a travelling refridgerator.

But seriously, when I wait at 2 am at the Holguin bus station fighting off the bici' taxi hustlers and painfully sit through the blasting of melodramatic Cuban love songs while I wait ´One hour in advance¨ and you turn up an hour late...I was not thrilled.

Yes, the ticket was only 11 dollars, but the overwhelming smell of piss that I´m pretty sure was coming from the water bottles left behind and the occasional cock roach sauntering down the window ledge made for a pretty grim trip.

I fear for you Viazul and more so for myself and the 16 hr trip back to Habana.

Please turn down bad vibe and turn up the heat and promise me it´s true that you are better than the train. God forbid, I may leave Santaigo as soon as I have arrive just because the only flight back leaves tonight.

Jill

Holguin to Santiago de Cuba

I got off the bus in Holguin thinking maybe I would wait a minute or 2 before I took a taxi to my prearranged Casa. I walked by someone who said something to me in spanish. I politely explained I did not understand and he pulled out a paper with my name in huge letters. I started to laugh. My casa had changed plans and I had been redirected to a new casa.

The neighbours in Holguin spoke very well and they took me to a remote beach on the northern coast. I rented a car and they drove. They arranged a lunch with a local friend. The area had been devestated by the hurricanes and people were living in literally' tin shacks pieced together by bits of wood and scraps. They made rice and beans, plantains and fresh fried white fish. It was unbelieveable. Just outside the ¨window- the rest of the family was cleaning the daily catch.

Unfortunately, I have been sunburned. The water was torquoise, the sand silky soft and the beach as remote as you could get.

I walked up the hill in Holguin to make my pilgramage and the start of the Romerios de Mayo. 459 steep steps. I saw a man doing it with a bottle of rum on his head. Somewhere along the way, I hurt my foot.

Last night I decided to ditch on my 2 previous paid for nights in Holguin and get the bus to Santiago. Now, I am sore from the burn and sore from the foot. I am trying to get a flight back to Havana, but it may not be possible. I may have to get the bus-see another entry.

Santiago is in the Sierra Mountains and where the revolution started. It´s busy and lots of motorbikes swarm the narrow streets. It reminds me of Morocco and Barcelona rolled into one. Lots and lots of jinteros, or hustlers. I have been harassed for something nearly a dozen time in the 3 hrs I have been here.

The weather is perfect and I´m loving my time despite the hurts..

xoJill

I was there!!

http://www.cubanews.ain.cu/2009/0501desfile1mayo.htm

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/gallery/2009/may/01/cuba-may-day-celebration-photos

I wish I could upload my photos or find better pictures. But yesterday was really something to be at that rally.

the revolution

dragrace, originally uploaded by jill y.

Today I got up at 5:30 am and snuck quietly out of my Casa and up the street to the Capitolio and marked with the workers of Cuba to the Plaza de Revolution. Along the way were speakers and people rousing the crowds into song and chants of Viva Fidel! Viva la Revolution! Viva Raul!!

We marched along the streets and the streams of red and flags and people carrying pictures of Che Guevara and Jose Marti was intoxicating. The crowds truned the road to the long procession to the plaza. I was in the thick of it and wondering how I would get out. I walked when I could and got ahead of the crowds when I was able. We passed the Plaza monuments and everyone waved to Raul and the flags blazed.

The heat was unbearable but it was an incredible experience to be a part of 1 million Habaneros marching on behalf of the Cuban worker. The 50th anniversary of the creation of the labour union.

Tomorrow, I will take an overnight bus trip to Holguin and get out of this little city, it's familiar paths and faces. On a side note.. I have found a tattoo artist and spent a long time discussing possibilities. I may come home with a wee bit of ink.....do you think I'm crazy???

xoxoJill

portal to another world

portal to another world, originally uploaded by jill y.

I found these doors yesterday. I was walking and I wondered if I would see them again. My heart jumped to see them. I feel as though I love these doors. I met the family behind the closed one. I told them of how I took the photo before and blew it up. I told them of how it hangs framed in my life and I look at it often and how I love the door and the mysteriousness of the darkness beyond the one. (Ok. Well maybe I didn't say all of that, but I'm sure my eyes did.) I took their photo sitting on the stoop. They gave me the address and I promised to send them the photo.

Havana is peacful and chaotic. Sleepy and full of spice. My Casa is beautiful and they feed me the same thing every morning. 1/2 banana, pineapple, ornage, papaya, passionfruit, coffee, juice, and an omlette with cheese.

Tonight I will go to the home of a friend I have made in an old Collectivo taxi and see how the real Cuban lives. Tomorrow we will meet with some more people and we'll walk to the Plaza de Revolution for the big rally. It is the 50th anniversary of the Cuban worker. (I think).

xoJill

you can smell it in the air

and it's not the exhaust of the collectivo taxi's...Socialism is in the air.

The Cuban flag's are flying everywhere. I woke up the other morning to fins the street of my Casa had the curbes white washed and something announcing 01 May was written across the road.

Today, I went to the bust station to buy my ticket to Holguin and went past the Plaza de Revolution and they were testing the speakers and sound system and benches were set up. Rumor is you must leave very early to go to the Rally as all of Havana will be there. It is required of the 'workers'. No one will tell me if Fidel will be there. I make the joke that he is dead, and I am told to shhh. Raul will be there and I will be there with the rest of Havana. I am excited.

I met some photographers by coming across their studio. We spent the evening sitting on the Malecon drinking rum from the bottle and getting very drunk. Yesterday the 3 of us went for a walk with our cameras looking like the unofficial paparazzi. They said they will take me to the rally. The do documentaries in their other time to make money.

I have bought many Cuban movie posters, but have not found the place where th3ey do the silkscreening. I give up trying to get that project.

Havana's poem for me is slowly being written. But my time on the crappy crapastic internet is comeing to an end and it will take nearly 10 minutes to publish this...

So, one last thing, if you are reading... my feet hurt so much that I have learned to ignore it.

Love, Jill

Today I bought 3 stems of gladiolas.

flower cart, originally uploaded by jill y.

Last night I arrived in Havana and breathed in agian the hot sticky air marinated in 50 years of carburator exhaust.

This morning after a welcome breakfast of fruit (banana, pineapple, papya, orange, watermelon) bread & butter, scrambled eggs with cheese and coffee with cuban honey- I strolled down the familair streets and bought 3 rosey gladiolas from a flower cart for my new Casa and remembered this photo.

I paid for my beautiful Art Nouveau Casa until May 2. I will take an overnight bus to Holguin and can explore some of the southern cities and the beach from there.

On May 1, there is the big labour day rally at the Plaza de la Revolucion and Raul Castro will make a grand speech to the people. I would be crazy to miss it. There are signs and flags up in the streeets to promote it.

Havana is a poem unwritten. Melodies belch from the old Chevy and Buicks. Children yell songs in the streets and nearby the horses hooves tap out a sombre beat. The men whistle and hiss to the tune while the Hemingway lookalike's sitting at the sleepy bars, keep time jostling their pocket coins to the fans beating the air. All of it under the dark pages of the night, barely recognizable if not for a few flickering lights.

xoJill

one of the beautiful things

About Cuba is that they have a rich history of poster arts. The Instituto Cubano del Arte e Industria Cinematográficos (ICAIC) creates posters in a standard size to fit the movie marquees, all hand screen printed one color at a time. The colors are added in thick coats, usually taking a day to dry each layer and each one is hand done.

They are amazing and I was lucky enough to stumble upon them when I went to Cuba last year.

I have found them again, with a little research on line. So I'll share the one's I have.

This one hangs in my bedroom. I adore it for it's art nouveau style and cream and red coloring. It's sits nicely against this Mucha .

008, originally uploaded by jill y.

and here are the other one's I have brought back. They are brilliant, with a kind of Monty Python type quality to them. I absolutely adore them. They were $10 each, if you can believe it. I am taking a large art tube to Cuba with me. Can you guess why??

074, originally uploaded by jill .059, originally uploaded by jill y.

022, originally uploaded by jill y.

023, originally uploaded by jill y.

054, originally uploaded by jill y.

205, originally uploaded by jill y.

035, originally uploaded by jill y.

Holland is only a few hours away

shiny faces, originally uploaded by jill y.

Catherine and I went to the Skagit County Tulip Festival to find that no tulips were in bloom. The "Daffs" were out in full force though. Fields and fields and fields. I'd love to go back next weekend and see if the tulips come out to play. There was only a sparse sprinkling of pink in a few fields and the weather was hesitant. I was lucky to get this shot with a blue sky.

La Conner was a yawn. It's way too polished and slick. The wannabe artists and their mass produced sculptures had moved in. The "antique" shops carried a lot of reproduced items masquerading as the real thing and it was all sort of "high end" . I was like being on Edmonton's Whyte Ave for the day. Charming little town though, with it's heritage buildings.

What was really really something was the wee little hamlet towns nearby- with the artisan bakeries and curios shops with sculptures made of tiny bones, vintage mannequins, hand made lavender and spruce soaps and beautiful old turn of the century buildings turned into sparse art galleries catering to edgier and less commercial art.

Another trip is definitely needed..but I'll avoid La Conner and stick to the less traveled back roads.

Happy Easter.

I've had too much chocolate, originally uploaded by jill y.

storm brewing on the horizon

storm brewing on the horizon, originally uploaded by jill y.

things to do on a boring Saturday if you live on the northwest coast of North America

You can pretend you are in Holland and check out the Skagit County Tulip Festival. I'm definitely headed down there in hopes of lots of flower pictures!!

There's a little town called La Conner that sounds pretty charming according to the Vancouver Courier:

"...a charming little town about 150 kilometres south of Vancouver via Interstate 5, was founded in the 1860s, making it the oldest town in Skagit County. La Conner's natural scenic beauty and large number of Victorian-era buildings has attracted many writers and artists over the years and many galleries have since opened."

".. the centre of the U.S. tulip bulb industry, over 15 square miles of farms in Skagit County dedicated to tulips (and daffodils) burst into a riot of colour."

"..main street of La Conner, Wash. is five blocks of boutiques, cafes, restaurants and galleries..is an easy five-block walk full of boutiques, cafes, restaurants and galleries."

"..Getting there can be a lot of fun, too. You can blast down the I-5 in an hour, or take the scenic route via Bellingham and Chuckanut Drive."

Casa Cuba

Casa Cuba, originally uploaded by jill y.

it's 1 am and I should be sleeping

But I thought I'd tell you a bedtime story.

The linoleum floor in the kitchen was probably orange and maybe made up of geometric squares. It was in the early 1970's. The yellow (probably) formite counter top was a far way away. The woman swept the corners that collected dust bunnies and secret cobwebs. Back then, it was an corn straw broom that left little shards of splintered sticks behind, sometimes. Moving the chairs and collecting the crumbs from the toast that had been dropped on the floor earlier, she swept the pile near where the small baby was sitting. Too close. The child investigated with it's tiny fingers. Curious at the soft brown pile.

"No, Jill. Dirt."

"Dirt", the mother repeated and pointed at the pile.

"Dirt?" I mimicked, too tiny to know that was my first word legibly spoken.

My mother laughed and picked me up and said, "Yes, dirt."

Still today, it's one of my favorite words.

Havana Casa update

I got a response from a preferred Casa.

An Art Nouveau Casa. *sigh* It's one of only 25 building left in the Art Nouveau style in Old Havana and built in 1913 by Mario Rotllant.

It's an air-conditioned bedroom with a double bed with a private bathroom and a ceiling fan. There's also an open air patio off the bedroom.

So lovely. So lucky to get a space. Can't believe I missed seeing this building as I walked all over Habana Veija last year. It's 30 CUC a day (totally average price for any casa and about $40) and has an optional breakfast for 4 CUC ($5) which is apparently: fresh fruit, coffee/tea, bread and eggs. Have I ever mentioned the Cuban coffee and honey? OMG- that's another post all together.

Naturally, I have cordially declined on the other casa. I'm not sure if I'll go anywhere else in Cuba. This is like a dream. I wonder if they'll keep me as their in house Canadian?

I once went all the way to Brussels to look at Art Nouveau and dreamed of finding an Art Nouveau house to stay in. I didn't, but I find it oddly ironic I have found one in Havana. I didn't even know Art Nouveau was in Havana and when I did see it last year- it was crumbling.

Now, I have a renewed mission and purpose- to rediscover and find anew the lost Cuban Art Nouveau.

perched

perched, originally uploaded by jill y.

home away from home

I found a little sweet casa in Havana. Or at least I think so. You never really know until you get there, how it's going to be.

The last time I was in Havana, I stayed in a apartment that was reached by elevator. To get in the elevator- you stepped over a 4 inch crumbling limestone gap. Often the elevator was out and you had to walk the narrow, sweaty and dark stair case.

The Casa last year was really comfortable and safe, but the owner also had a 17 year old son who brought his friends over to practice their Latin rap at full blast during my 5 pm siestas.

The translation of this Casa's website says:

Beautiful private House, located just in the center of Havana Old, boarding house of lodging, income, rent and lodging. The house is comfortable, has to the entrance a patio with many plants Has two rooms with bath private.one of the room has a small patio, with plants seats, table, chairs, where you can enjoy beautiful and adorable Cuban sun. The room, dining room and the rooms built with pleasure to be felt in its own house. .

In our private house will be able to live its own experience of as we live the Cuban families, its customs, and we can teach him and to explain him everything that want to know about Havana old and Cuba so that sits down like at home. The rooms are fresh, with a double bed, comfortable environment, private bath, cold and hot water the 24 hours, fan and air conditioning.

Next to the rooms an extensive patio with excellent lighting is found where enjoys itself a fresh breeze and sun, special for the delight of a good book, a Havana cigar and a Cuban liquor.

The location of the Private House in Havana Old is central to not more than 2 minutes of the Capitol, town square and the Restaurant "Floridita" preferred by Hemingway, and to 10 minutes of the Cathedral, from the Restaurant the Bodeguita of the Middle, Palace of the Revolution, Museum Fine Arts, Chinatown and other magnificent colonial works, museums and jewels of Havana old.

We have a cheap price in the private house of 25-30 cuc by room depending on the season.

Note to self: bring a good book, avoid the Cuban cigars, and enjoy the "adorable" Cuban sun.

an open letter

I thought I would gently let you know that you're trying too hard. I don't know what it is exactly. Is it an insecurity? Are you afraid people aren't noticing you. Maybe you feel invisible. I can tell by the way you laugh that it's not you. There's something held back, controlled and slightly contrived. It keeps me from laughing with you.

I've noticed on more than one occasion that you 'one up'. If I have a pain, you have a bigger pain or know someone who has a bigger bigger pain and you tell me instead of just listening and supporting. It's the same for something good that happens. You have something better. It's hard for me to share anything with you.

I don't mean to be harsh, but this isn't the kind of notice and acknowledgment I think you want. I'm sorry if you are feeling tiny and small and afraid no one sees you. Try and see the light that shines on other people and love them for that and you'll find a light of your very own. I'm afraid the things you do to "prove" you're more or better just cast a stormy cloud and eventually rain on your parade as well as mine.

love.
Jill

be a brother

I saw Big Brother and the Holding Company play over the weekend. 3 of the 5 original band. Sam Andrew- guitar, Dave Getz- drums and Peter Albin- bass. Dave Getz once called the fame of Big Brother is like a Golden Albatross. It was a strange event. It was clearly marketed as Janis Joplin's original band, but talking to them- you got the sense that they were tired of being in her shadow- even 40 years later. I felt bad for them. Either they made her famous or she made them a killing in endorsements and no matter what- they were inseparable.

serious business

serious business, originally uploaded by jill y.

I was in Seattle with my mom and sister and we hit the Pike Market. Immediately we got separated. This girl's bangles caught my eye and I stopped her and asked her if I could take a photo. She struck this pose and people walked by and I overheard someone say sarcastically, "she's taking a picture of that girls bracelets" and then I caught this girl's expression.

The world is a hard place to be. I'm glad she made it more colorful.

this is good. this is soothing.

on the street in Seattle

obama, originally uploaded by jill y.

belgian endive in Brussels

IMGP5585, originally uploaded by jill y.

number thirty six

IMGP2706.JPG, originally uploaded by jill y.

A Taste of Cuba

A new friend dropped off an old book for me.

The sketches are amazing. They're done by Ximena Maier and now I am a fan. They really capture the feeling of what I saw in Cuba and like photographs I took. So, feeling inspired.. I decided to take on page 73 and make Red Snapper "a la Santa Barbara".

While I warm up leftovers..

Ingredients:
1/2 cup wheat flour
2 eggs
2/3 cup shredded coconut (I used packaged, but I have a funny feeling fresh would have been better.)
1 tbsp chopped scallion or green onion
1 tbsp chopped parsley
1 lb fresh red snapper (go to a Fishmonger if you can.)
Oil for deep frying (Grapeseed is best)

For the sauce:
1/2 cup finely chopped onion (I used the left over green onion)
1 ounce butter
2/3 cup white wine (I bought Santa Isabela Sauvignon Blanc- Chile, and it was lovely.)
1 1/4 cup coconut milk
1 tsp wheat flour
1 pinch Annatto powder (if you can find it. see note)

Method:

For the sauce:
Saute onion in 2/3rds the butter for 3-4 min. on low heat without allowing it to brown.
Add the wine & coconut milk and cook on low until reduced by half.
In a separate pan, fry a tsp of the flour in the remaining butter.
Add this to the 1st mixture to thicken the sauce.
Add the annatto powder and cook for 5-7 minutes more.
Season with Salt & pepper.
Puree the sauce and set aside in a saucepan.
The sauce should be light and not too thick.

Place the flour in a shallow bowl and the beaten egg in another. In a 3rd bowl, place the shredded coconut with the chopped scallion/onion and parley. Season the fish fillets with salt, cover each fillet first with flour, then the egg, and finally with the coconut mixture. heat the oil in a skillet on high heat and deep fry the fish until golden. Drain the fish on paper towel.

serve the fish immediately with the very hot sauce handed separately.

Drink the rest of the wine.

(Note: Annatto powder is adds no flavor, just a yellowish or orange coloring.)

had I stopped to tie my shoe before I turned left

If I hadn't decided to walk home that one day, I wouldn't have crossed the street.
If I hadn't have crossed the street, I wouldn't have been hit by a car.
If I hadn't been hit by a car, I wouldn't have sued the driver.
If I hadn't sued the driver, I wouldn't have had the cash.
If my sister didn't guess how many clown noses were in a jar, she wouldn't have won the contest.
If my sister didn't win the contest, she wouldn't have given me a plane ticket to Europe.
If I hadn't have gone to Europe I wouldn't have come home to go to University.
If I hadn't have gone to University, I wouldn't have worked at Zenari's.
If I hadn't have worked at Zenari's, I wouldn't have got that job at the cheese deli.
If I hadn't worked at the cheese deli, I wouldn't have found out I love facts about cheese.
If I didn't love facts about cheese, I wouldn't have move to Calgary to pursue it.
If I hadn't have moved to Calgary, I wouldn't have lost touch with a friend.
If I hadn't have lost touch with a friend, I wouldn't have returned to find him.
If I hadn't have found out he died, I wouldn't have been upset.
If I hadn't have been upset, I wouldn't have sought out other friends I had lost touch with.
If I hadn't sought out other friends, I wouldn't have gotten the opportunity.
If I hadn't have gotten the opportunity, I wouldn't have bought the Valiant.
If I hadn't have bought the Valiant, I wouldn't have moved to Vancouver.
If I hadn't moved to Vancouver, I wouldn't have been at Joe's Cafe.
If I hadn't had been at Joe's Cafe, I wouldn't have me Michael.
If I hadn't have met Michael, I wonder if the last 5 years would be as great as they have been.

Thanks to Nicolien for the idea

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Blackbird singing in the dead of night, originally uploaded by jill y.

The bird caled Dany.

Havana,Cuba 2008

it was worth the wait

Michael and I were wandering around the fancy market we never go to unless we're looking for rare red cow Parmesan, raw milk Stilton and bottled water with Swarovski crystals embedded in the bottles as a logo design when I stumbled upon a funny looking thing.

Since I was somewhat overwhelmed by gold dusted chocolate bars and ostrich eggs sold only a few feet from one another, I made note of the name and fled- without one.

Later.. in an equally rare visit to the fancy celluloid drugstore, and while perusing the aisles of Bernardo Bertolucci films while having menacing thoughts towards film snobs, I overheard an unusual conversation..

It's dense and firm, like it has no pulp.
There are these fingers that grow out of it.
Ya, I don't know. Fingers. I can't think of any other way to describe them.

I leaned around the corner and said.. you're talking about Buddha's Hands aren't you?

Yes, we are open!

IMGP2872, originally uploaded by jill y.

i'm sorry I have been neglecting you. I'll come back to posting soon.

IMGP0480.JPG, originally uploaded by jill y.

packrat

IMGP2859, originally uploaded by jill y.

Liberty

IMGP1774.JPG, originally uploaded by jill y.

20 Random Things

1.When I was born, the doctored played a joke on my mother and told her I was a boy.

2. When I was 4, a boy pushed me into the corner of a glass coffee table because I wouldn't share my toys. I ended up with stitches and a scar in one eyebrow.

3. I used to dress up in my mother's old heels and dresses and stand by the highway on my Granmother's Farm and wave at traffic.

4. My right eye is half brown and half blue.

5. 5, 3 and 21 are my favorite numbers.

6. I hate mushrooms but will eat Campbell's Mushroom Soup

7. I changed my last name when I was 23.

8. I broke my wrist while playing with a cat.

9. I had braces.

10. I still have my wisdom teeth. I keep them in a little glass box on a piece of velvet. No one knows this except for you.

11. I once went to Mexico for lunch and Spain for 15 minutes.

12. I've had E- Coli. It put me in the hospital for a week.

13. I left home when I was 16.

14. My current relationship beats out all the others at almost 5 years. Before Michael I was running a trend at 10 months.

15. When I was back packing in Europe, I live in both an abandoned house on the outskirts of Rome and a yacht off the coast of Spain.

16. My family tree connects to both George Washington and Robert E. Lee

17. I'm know a lot about cheese.

18. My biggest fear is being homeless.

19. I am fascinated with Janis Joplin.

19. I have a rock from Alcatraz. I've been carrying it around with me for 15 years.

stress relief

Classes are designed for beginners with little or no experience and
will provide the student with a thorough knowledge of basic glass
blowing techniques, hotshop etiquette and safety. During each
class teachers will demonstrate and guide students step by step to
create their own one of a kind glass blown piece, which can be
picked up and ready to take home as early as the next day. Students
will have the chance to learn and practice the fundamentals
of gathering, centering, marvering, basic color application and
proper shop etiquette in a fun, safe and comfortable environment.
All materials are included. Sunglasses, cotton clothing, and closed
toed footwear. There is a maximum of 6 students per workshop
with 2 instructors. Each student will make 6 pieces.

Did you know it costs $600 to take glass blowing classes? Who knew hotshops were so expensive.

I met the guy who runs this class in my favorite coffee shop one really early morning day. I didn't know he was a glass blower, but we started talking about Chihuly and I went off on some tangent about how glass blowing was really similar to soap making. Soap needs to be poured at a certain temperature even just before it cools. If you aren't quick, it can turn into a solid right before your eyes. Just like hot glass.

The night before there was a glass blowing documentary on TV, showing a huge hotshop auditorium (there's a big Glass Blowing Studio in Tacoma).

I babbled on about how glass blowing has the same nuances of fragility and I carried on about Chihuly and Oregon. I felt really passionate about it for some reason. Maybe it was the early morning delirium or the lack of coffee. I don't know but, it turned out he was on his way to the Glass Blowing College to do a seminar and gave me his card. I was stunned and said something about serendipity. I have thought about alot and felt I would really enjoy glass blowing.

I visited the studio as part of the Art Crawl and signed up for updates on classes and today it popped up in my inbox. Hello expensive class and 6 keepsakes.

Once, I rented a bike and rode down path in the Belgian Countryside.

IMGP5672, originally uploaded by jill y.

could you do me a favor..

Take my little survey...

Click Here

check this out

sock it to me

I know a girl. I call her the Hebrew Hammer. Other people know her as Litta Apple Balm.

Had she made it to the other side- she'd be 66 today.

Happy Birthday Janis.

frosted wheat

frosted wheat, originally uploaded by jill y.

the thing about blogs..they chronicle the boring, sometimes interesting and all the stuff in between. Behold, 2008

January
I covered my left arm in a tattoo. It all went a bit haywire for a bit, but got sorted.
I discovered Gypsy Punk and Gogol Bordello
Made a new year's resolution to do one creative thing a month- and then promptly forgot.
Went to Langley and scored a brilliant vintage quilt for 50 bucks

February
Visited Portland and my long absent Father. As the years drift apart- so do we.
I went to Tokyo for a week. Konichiwa.

March
I recovered from Tokyo.
I wrote a 100 things I would like to do before I die.
I officially aged 1 year older towards that so I made a list of 37 things that made me happy.

April
I dealt with an "unfortunate tattoo incident".
I took a bunch of photos
I booked a ticket to Cuba

May
I went to Toronto and saw a dear old friend.
I got all Communist Revolutionary and traveled Cuba for 2 week.
I bought I ticket for Madonna

June
I discovered washing grains again.
I went to Scottsdale, Arizona.
I wrote a letter to my "ill spent youth".
I tried to over a pizza in another city for a friend of mine- I failed.
The tattoo saga continued.

July
I did the Proust Questionnaire
I photographed the neighbourhood kids covered in mud. I was the evil stranger to one.
Friends answered the Proust Questionnaire.
Sold merch at Billy Idol and snapped a bunch of shots.
Michael's Sister and Family came to town.
I went to a seminar in Seattle on how to stop the most horrible thing that could happen to a girl. It helped marginally.
I went to London and met up with Heidi after a 20 year bathroom break.
I hunted cheese shops.

August
I went home to Edmonton and took my bike.
Great trail riding ensued.
I saw a lot of old & new friends. Too many to mention here.
I wrote the one poem I spit out a year.
Catpower at the Edmonton Folk fest with Tracy. Nuff said.
I still have the 5 claw strike on my calf from falling off my bike.
I saw my mom. Nuff said.
I decided I would revamp my blog. It's is still unvamped.
Bess moved to Australia.

September
I went to New York City with Michael and stayed at the Chelsea Hotel.
My mom walked the El Camino De Santiago in Spain with my aunt.

October
I wanted to vote for Obama.
I gave thanks.
Keep Calm and Carry On
I was in the same room as Madonna.

November
I posted every day.
I protested for gay rights.
I was named in a human rights complaint.
I had a root canal.
I protested the rain, but I rode in it nonetheless.
Mom, Catherine and I traveled all the way to Kilby and Maple Ridge.
We discovered baked French Toast with cream cheese, raspberries and lemon sauce.
Uncle Wiley passed away.
The Art Crawl and Synechdoche New York were my cultural fixes.
I wiped out on my bike.

December
I took a deer out on a date.
I survived
I discovered the bands: Fleet Foxes and First Aid Kit
I stayed in a brilliant B&B in Victoria.
It snowed- alot.
Michael and I drove back to Alberta.

the stars align

My horoscope reads:

You've been attracted to friendly oddballs, psychics, therapists and shy people over the last few years - this trend continues.

You know who you are, an likely- I've known for a lot longer than a few years.

I have a long history of befriending, entertaining,and sometimes admiring the outcast, oddball, artist, unusual, eccentric, and outside mainstream. These days however, I'm less inclined towards the over-the-top type, the counterculture that becomes popular culture type, or weird for the sake of weird types. I've gone soft in my old age. I have fleece in my wardrobe.

I should write about the time I befriended some "busker" in Edmonton when I was 13. He was about 6"2, wild curly hair, John Lennon specs, and he made coffin coffee tables and his own coffin shaped guitars. He acquired the nickname of Rubberhead and might have been a former tenant at Alberta Hospital. He invited me back to his apt and naively, I went. I sat on a ripped out bench seat from an old truck, acknowledged there was a rotting cabbage amongst other garbage on the floor and smiled and nodded about his recollections of being the offspring of aliens. He showed me his sketches and plans for a time machine. He gave me a comic book and a little figurine made out of mud.

I beat a hasty retreat sensing tension in the air, he followed me. I jumped on the next bus and he yelled after me: Don"t you love me anymore? Years later, before he died trying to get to the ocean via the North Saskatchewan River, he put on gigs in Ukrainian Community Halls, called Rubberhead's Rock n Roll Show.

I never really talked to him again. But he began a long list of musicians, travellers, minstrels, punks, panhandlers, poets, and painters, photographers, bouncers, bikers, record shop and cafe owners that I befriended over the years.

portfolio

10- 5x7
13- 8x10
8- 8x12

countless frames, ready made and hand cut mats, time, money

One wire bound photo album with portrait style high clarity print preservers

cost: less than $1000

result: double that if I sold everything

reason: to show

Tea for two, you and me maybe even three

I have another tea pot and I love it because it was a gift from Michael, but it makes a quick 2 cups and calls it a day. My sister somehow found me the PERFECT tea pot. Brews at least 4 cups. Has a fine mesh strainer, good for Rooiboos, and it's CLASSIC. I love it!!

Thanks Sis.

the photo

IMGP2784.JPG, originally uploaded by jill y.

That led to our unfortunate adventure, "Not Narnia".

not Narnia, edited with links to photos

Really, I wish I took photos but the whole thing was like a lucid nightmare that had aspirations of veering dangerously off course. I had visions of Fargo dancing in my head and somehow taking photos of the horror would have been the catalyst that pushed it over the edge.

While on the way to Grandmother's house for tea (isn't that how they all start?), we took a road off the secondary highway to Olds, Alberta. It was tree lined and with the fresh fallen snow, looked like the entrance to Narnia. I took some photos and we turned around for the hay bales that looked suspiciously like frosted mini wheat's with the dusting of snow.

For some reason, we decided to go back down the road to Narnia. I don't know why but, I was glad we did at first, as along the road were some old granaries that are too often being torn down for the sturdier and uglier metal ones. With my back turned to take photos, I was unaware of the series of events that would happen next until it was too late.

Even though we were on a desolate rural road a few km off the main highway, Michael decided to pull over to the side of the road- even though, I said, "I'll just be a minute." To his defense, it did appear that there was a culvert at the T-intersection to which a road led to a nearby farm. But, to our dismay, it was not. What was there instead was the steep prairie ditch filled with snow and when Michael pulled off to the side, he hit that snow with the weight of the vehicle and it tipped violently to one side.

I was in disbelief. Keep in mind that we had driven out of the worst snowstorm to hit the lower mainland, endured the steep mountainous Coquihalla highway in a blizzard, and thus far avoided the circumstance of so many vehicles ill prepared for the road conditions. How was it that a quick stop for photos, and a traveling speed of 2km/hour would be our demise?

Unbelievably, just as it happened, 2 guys in a huge pickup truck (like the ones we laugh at for being so monstrous) pull up and ask if we'd like to be pulled out of the ditch. I figured our magical Delica and Michael's skills could do the job and said,

"well maybe you could just wait and make sure we get out OK."

"alright, we're just going up to that farm and we'll be back in about 10 minutes."

When they didn't come back, I went and got them. It was -16C, the wind was blowing and I refused to get in the vehicle leaning dangerously in a steep ditch. I told Michael, "look- I don't know who these guys are and who knows. If I'm not back in 20 minutes call the police" and I set off down the dirt road- freezing.

Nice guys. Can't remember their names now, but they didn't kidnap me, as imagined.

They managed to pull us along the ditch rather violently but without success in getting us out. The Delica looked like a little helpless toy being tugged through the snow by a monster truck sliding against the thin gravel. I stood there in horror and praying that the rope didn't snap or the van tip and twist from the attempt. I stood there fighting back massive tears that would have frozen like sad icicles under my eyes, it was so cold.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. We weren't supposed to be there. We were supposed to be at my grandmother's drinking hot tea. My legs were stinging and prickly from the tiny pins of cold air and I was watching a horrifying situation with my love in a helpless and potentially dangerous position.

Suffice it to say, we switched the rope to the other side, the driver of the truck backed up a bit, got a good running start and bounced, literally bounced, Michael and our home on the road, out of the ditch. I grabbed the 40 bucks my aunt fern had given me to make some prints and 20 from the wallet and thanked them profusely we had a quick chat and told them it was all so silly as I just wanted some photos of the granaries and they said good thing as they're planning to take a bobcat through them in the spring.

I made a note to self to visit the road in the warmer months in hopes the buildings would still be there, drop a bottle of Jack off on the doorstep of the farm and then got the hell off the road to not Narnia.