Time Capsules

Just a short while back, my mother and I decided to crack open a bottle of cherry kriek to share. The beverage had been rolling around in the fridge awhile, and I thought it was time to give its poor little soul the satisfaction of being drunk. The only problem is, these things are bottled pretty absurdly.

As you can see, they have a specific method of sealing the bottles. Our brand, Lindemans, presented us with an even greater challenge. First, there was a foil wrapping. That was easy enough to remove. Next was a screw-off cap. Also, not too much of a challenge. Then came the cork. I have trouble with corks; see my earlier post. We searched the house high and low for a corkscrew, which was not to be found. You know how sometimes you bring your corkscrew with you to a party and forget to bring it back home? Yeah, that's probably what happened. Good for the hosts, bad for the corkscrew-bearing guests!




Then I remembered I had a Swiss Army knife in my French package. The package is a great big orange box I shipped to myself right at the end of my stay in France - I had way too many things to take back in my suitcase, so I went to the post office and bought a couple of 5-kilo boxes to keep the things things I wouldn't need while traveling. I didn't open the boxes up when I got home because A) I obviously didn't need to use its contents on a daily basis and B) it's already packed neatly in a box, perfect for moving!




I didn't truly want to open my Pandora's box, but we had come this far, and I wasn't about to try to dig that cork out with a knife. So I dove in. It's like a time capsule, seeing all the things that were a part of your life a few short months ago. A book I haven't finished (almost there!), letters I received, hiking boots I wore to school on rainy days, gloves, and more. Of course, the stuff won't fit neatly back into the box - I had a heck of a time getting it all in there in the first place - but if I had to open the thing, it sure is interesting to see what I don't really need, but just had to keep!

A Chihuahua?! - A Service Dog Joke

At Bristol's Rhythm and Roots Reunion on Sept. 17-19, there was a lot of complaint about the new no-dog policy. "They let dogs in last year!" was the common refrain.

In our family, we often joke about affixing a service-dog vest to our ill-behaved Chihuahua. When my dad suggested it, my mom let loose with this joke:

Two dudes are out walking their dogs one afternoon. One has a Labrador Retriever, the other a Chihuahua. They decide that they'd like some drinks and want to stop at a bar.

"Well, Jim, we can't stop for drinks because we have our dogs," says Frank.

"Follow my lead," Jim says. Jim puts on his Oakley sunglasses and walks into a restaurant with his Lab.

"Sorry, sir, but that dog can't be in here!" the bartender says.

"But I'm blind! This is my service dog and you have to let him in."




"Oh, I see. No problem, then," replies the bartender.

The second dude, Frank, puts on his sunglasses and walks in with his Chihuahua.

"Sir," says the bartender, "Dogs are not allowed in here!"

"But sir," says Frank, "This is my service dog and I am blind!"




The bartender looks Frank up and down, doubtful. "A Chihuahua?" he says.

In disbelief, Frank says, "They gave me a Chihuahua?!"

Rhythm & Roots

This isn't my timeliest post ever, but so it goes. Two weekends ago, September 17th - 19th, Bristol held its annual Rhythm & Roots Reunion, a Southern music festival that is anything but country.

The music festival is held each year on downtown historic State Street. It hosts a range of performers that run the gamut from bluegrass to Cajun to rhythm & blues. The lineup is absolutely wild, and it's impossible to see everyone you'd like. It's a pretty inspired event, if I may express my personal humble opinion.



This year, some of my favorites were Langhorne Slim (whom I already liked, but like even more after seeing him perform in person) and the Red Stick Ramblers. I also found out that John Oates used to be one-half of the duo Hall and Oates, not Holland Oats, as previously thought.



If you hurry, you can still listen to a playlist of many of the featured performers on the Rhythm and Roots website, here. Next month, I'll try to post twice!

Note: As ever, my photos came from the wonderful archives of Wikimedia Commons.

Jobless U.S.A.

I got back from France three months ago, and at the time, I breathed a sigh of homecoming, and thought to myself, "I'm not going away again for awhile." It's not that France was bad, exactly, except for the teaching part, but it's just nice to be home, to be surrounded by familiar comforts and a culture I know.

But. This job market sucks. I've applied to approximately 20 jobs at this point (I know if you are unemployed or close to me in age, you're thinking "only 20?" I think, however, that pre-recession, the sentiment would have been more along the lines of "20 jobs, and not even one callback?" It's frustrating to put in at least 1-2 hours per application - because you want to do it right, because you know you have to do a good job to even have a sliver of a chance - and get absolutely no feedback, besides an automated "We have received your application. If your candidate file meets or exceeds our requirements, a member of our hiring team may contact you."




It seems as if I am shooting little time capsules into outer space. I learned that for half of the positions you see posted, the institution already knows exactly who they want to hire, but they have to post it as part of policy regulations. Well, thanks for that. I'm glad I spent 45 minutes editing my cover letter for someone who will never read it.




So, I got to thinking the other day that maybe I should think about teaching abroad again. If I work with the same program, Teaching Assitant Program in France, I'll be at an advantage this time around because I know how it works, I'll know not to teach elementary-aged students again, and I know what familiar comforts are available in France.




Or, I could broaden my horizons - I could get my TEFL certification and go to Germany, Spain, or South America. If I'm brave enough, I could even attempt to hack it in South Korea or Japan. Because, goodness knows, it's a job, and there's a need, so it should be easy enough to find one. What's more, it'll help me solidify my dream to continue traveling internationally throughout my lifetime. What better way to gain international experience than by living abroad in a situation that pays you to do so?




What do you think? Should I be patient and try to stick it out in the U.S., or should I set my sights on another international adventure?

Note: All the photos above, with the exception of the cat, whose name is Horatio and belongs to my cousin, were taken from Wikimedia Commons.

The Real Wedding of the Century

If you think Will and Kate's was the wedding of the century, forget it. You just didn't hear about Lily and Charlie's wedding because they are not the type who care about publicity. That's right, theirs was the wedding that was unlike any ceremony to come before or after it.



Charlie is my cousin on my dad's side, and a few months ago, he called a hiatus on his round-the-world bicycle tour due to an injury. Lily was the lovely Australian gal he met during his jaunt around Europe, and the one he found he couldn't be without. Lily, happily, felt the same way.



In due time, Charlie and Lily's friends and family were summoned to Madison, Wisconsin, to celebrate the union. What made it so different, you ask? To start, we met at a park where dozens of bicycles were assembled. Lily and Charlie made their entrance to the wedding party by rowboat, and then about a hundred of us biked 5 miles from the park to a campground. Our bicycles were bedecked with flowers, hauled trailers, and Lily and Charlie often biked hand-in-hand. It was fun to see the double takes of cyclists and pedestrians going the other direction, shouting their congratulations, and offering their hands for high-fives.




The wedding took place at a campground, and it was pretty thoroughly green - there were no paper plates to be found. The spread was complete with ceramic plates, mason jar drinking vessels, and an improvised dishwashing station. We all camped for two days and attended three separate rituals, the most important of which was the Union of Hearts ceremony. Guests were asked to bring water and fire tokens, which they tossed onto the fire with goodwill wishes for the new couple. The water, taken from various lakes and dams and rivers around the world, was boiled into a tea, which Charlie and Lily drank. Brave souls, if you ask me.




The guests were a free spirited bunch - one of the attendees didn't even know Charlie or Lily. His name was Leander, and he was a German scholar, who lived in Brussels but was working on a local currencies project in Madison. One of the friends Charlie had made in Brussels had received the invitation, but was unable to come, so he passed it along to Leander. As I told Leander and Anthony, another guest, I have never been to a wedding like this before, and I will probably never see another one quite like it again.




Eat your hearts out, Will and Kate.

Wit and Poignancy

I'm currently in Michigan visiting my Uncle Mike and Aunt Esther, and today they took us to see Meijer Gardens and Sculpture Park. I expected some pretty-ish botanical gardens, but this place was AMAZING, far surpassing my expectations. It is so amazing, in fact, that I decided I want to work there, but it turns out they're currently not hiring. Talk about raining on my parade.




The gardens are lovely, the children's area is a wondrous creation of imagination-capturing waterworks and installations, and we only made our way through about half of all the available areas around grounds. There is more to see - I have to go back!





They have temporary sculptures and permanent ones, sculptures which are in touch with history and up-to-date with modern, abstract trends. Inside, there are greenhouses and topiaries, with bright tropical birds and Victorian marble cherubs.






One of Esther's nephews got married in one of the greenhouses a couple weeks back. I'm glad he didn't get married in the Arid Room, full of cacti, succulent plants, rocks, and sand - the symbolism is all wrong. I want to get married in this place (not the Arid Room, of course, but some other room - maybe the Victorian room, although maybe that's a little corny, with the cherubs and all). First, I'll probably have to find someone who's willing to be the groom.





At the end of our visit, we checked out this really cool exhibit by Laura Ford, a Welsh sculptor who has a seriously large oeuvre and who's been exhibited all around the world. The pieces on display at Meijer Gardens definitely showcased her social conscience, crying out against poverty and violence. There were also some pretty funny pieces as well. Indeed, the brochure byline declares her art to be chock-full of "Humor and irony. Wit and poignancy. Personal experience and social conditions." I think the byline also suits the whole of Meijer Gardens just perfectly. The cast-bronze piece below is entitled "Rag and Bone."




All in all, it was pretty cool stuff. If you ever find yourself in Grand Rapids, it's a must-see. Don't miss it!

As a note, I am camera-less at the moment, so all the photos in this entry came from Wikimedia Commons.

Ode to Toads

We've been having a bit of trouble with our toadlets this summer. My dad, a fan of toads and all they do for a healthy garden (such as eating mosquitoes and slugs), frequently captures toads, brings them into the house so Mom and I can take a quick gander, then re-releases them into the wild of our front yard.

Did you know that toads like to come out and bask in the rain because they do not drink water but soak it in, absorbing moisture through their skin? Our problem is this: we've had some rainy weeks, so the toads like to come out on our front walk. And then we step on them.

This is especially the case with the little ones: they're easy to miss, and they can't withstand the pressure of human weight. So I've had to peel a few baby toadlets off the sidewalk, and consequently, we don't have very many adult toads this summer.




I guess we'll have to endure the mosquitoes this year. Or maybe my next post will have to be "Hats Off to Bats."