Special Delivery

In transit. Two doogles. Precious cargo with special handling requirements. En route to Amsterdam with a Tuesday arrival. A layover with a stay at a first class hotel. Perhaps a promenade around the red light district. A swim in the canals. Chasing bicycles on cobbled streets. Or tempted by space cakes. Possibly. This is what happens when dogs are given passports. They head on to Goteborg on Wednesday. We will be anxiously awaiting them at the airport. A big smile on our face and treats in our hand. In the meantime, the flight attendants will have their hands full. No running on the airplane!

Wanderlust: Skankitude

The other day I was out and about on errands. Just East of Linnegaten, the main avenue near our apartment, is a small grid of streets chocked full of restaurants and shops. It is also a mini-red-light district with a couple of sex shops, video parlors, and some seedy activity. I never would have known had a friend not mentioned it. Quite an agreeable area nonetheless. So, when I walked past this store with my newfound knowledge in hand, I wondered. Skank.

The name certainly fit. But, a clothing store? And not the kind of clothes you'd expect to see on a hot trannie mess. Urban wear. Was I in the right neighborhood? Well, it turns out that skank also refers to a form of dance practiced in the reggae, ska and punk scene. Who knew? But, still, sometimes a skank is just a skank.

Mazarin Cakes

Mazarin cakes are a delectable little treat. Dense. Sweet. Baked and served in their own tin foil shells. When I first saw these in a store display case, the icing reminded me of a simple confectioner's sugar icing used for sugar cookies. I was intrigued. The icing does, in fact, taste like confectioner's sugar icing. The cake has a short dough pastry crust. The filling is an almond paste. It is heavy and has texture; very granular. Like eating sugar cookie dough. For those seeking a recipe, there are two on this site.

Just a few bites and the mazarin cake is gone. Luckily, they are sold in packages of four.

Mamma Mia! We've Moved to Sweden Redux

I received a request to put this photo back up. So, back up it goes. To live on in the infinitude of the blogosphere. Enjoy!

Mmmmm, Digestives

Ah, digestive biscuits. How do I love thee? Well, for one, I could count the number of packages I've consumed. Or, perhaps, it's how I've reasoned away the amount of fat (fett in Swedish) each one contains (23% fat); they are quite the little fat bomb. I had read that it was the bad fat (that insipid partially-hydrogenated oil kind of fat). But, luckily, the article was old, and I found another article stating that manufacturers had replaced the bad stuff. And that is what I am going to believe. It makes me feel better.

My previous loves, pistagebullar and tasty treats, have gone by the wayside; they only tempt me occasionally now. Willpower triumphs. But not over all. Digestives seem to be in my diet to stay. Considering their somewhat bland flavor, I cannot quite figure out why I like them so much. They have a nice texture and tend to crumble. Which I like. Perhaps, it's a simple as that. They also are a nice complement to the somewhat bitter lingonberry jam. FYI: Lingonberry can be found at your local IKEA. Try it!

What exactly is a digestives biscuit? A number of websites, including this one, have waxed poetic on the digestive. Here's my take. It's a wheat flour biscuit which originated in Scotland. Early marketing efforts touted the digestive properties of the biscuits due to the high content of baking soda. Hence the moniker, digestive biscuit. The claims turned out to be false. But, the name stuck. And, although the venerated brand McVite's originated the biscuit, I am just as happy with a generic Scandinavian brand (and a generic price). As long as I can get the same taste, why pay more? I prefer the sweet meal variety which, as you might have guessed, is sweeter in taste.

Eating them takes me back to traveling across Europe in 1999. I would stop into small stores. I bought tetra paks of 100% real juice as well as cookies or some other sweet snack to keep me going for the day. I remember picking up something similar to McVite's biscuits and thinking how absolutely bland they were. Cheap, but bland. Like a bad graham cracker. Back then, I had tried a less crumbly, even less-flavored digestive biscuit. Luckily, I have given them another go. Pass me another fat bomb, please.

Hooray for Swollywood!

On the way to the gym tonight [about a block from our apartment], there was a film crew for Swedish TV. Some sort of period piece was in production. Horse-drawn carriages. Vintage cars. Costumes from the turn of the century - the previous century. Wigs and bonnets. Handlebar moustaches! They also added some small pine trees which looked kind of like Charlie Brown Christmas trees. It attracted quite a crowd. It also blocked the entrance to one of the local gyms. Poor gym-bunnies. And poor street cleaners. Those horses were pretty prolific.

Below is the director, I believe. Or maybe some random Swedish film producer type. The important thing is that he was on the other side of the tape separating 'film people' from us regular gawkers and groupies. Yes, I think I spotted a couple of groupies. Groupies tend to make any event more important than it actually is.

The scene being filmed takes place during the winter. Pictured below is a man who was spraying the sidewalk and streets with a white substance to simulate snow. Tomorrow, back to Spring!

Taler du Engelska?

I had to make a few phone calls today. I was trying to find a place to board the dogs when we are away on Summer holiday. No, Zoey and Lily are not here yet. But you need to book these reservations far in advance. The whole country probably needs to board their dogs and we don't want to be shut out of the hundpensionat. I love that word. Literally, a doggie pensione. For what some of them charge, though, it's more like sending them to 5-star hotel. But that's another story.

The upshot is that I spoke in Swedish on the phone today. I said "Taler du Engelska?" And when they replied "jag" I broke into Swenglish. Which for me consists of speaking slowly in English and throwing in an occasional word or phrase in Swedish to show that I am capable of "taler lite Svenska." A little Svenska. Most people with whom I spoke were quick to reassure me that there was need for me to try to speak any Swedish at all. Am I that bad? No, probably not. TJ and I been told and read that this is common occurrence.

Later while shopping at the grocery store, I was perusing the aisle with Digestives biscuits (about which I will blog soon). A store employee was stocking the shelves close by. I must have hesitated or looked uncertain while holding my precious Digestives. Because suddenly she began offering me some sort of commentary with a sly smile. In a split-second, I assessed the situation. My reply was an accepting head nod. After which I quickly walked away.

Oh sure, I could have made the "I'm confused" look, stated that I spoke "lite" Svenska, determined if she spoke Engelska, had her repeat said commentary in Engelska, and shared a sly smile with her. Before I quickly walked away. But, in that split-second, I decided to just cut out the middle part and save both time and face.

My road to conversational Svenska is paved with self-imposed obstacles. Liten steps.

Fish Balls

Mmmmm. Fiskbullar! That's Swedish for fishy bits. But, they're not really formed into a ball. More like an oval. I found this flavor and had to try it based on my previous [less than satisfying] experience with fiskbullar. These fish balls are in a clear broth (buljong in Swedish). No heavy, creamy, flavor-smothering sauce here - unlike the first time. Just a strong fish smell. Tasty. Chock full of protein and omega-3. And made by ABBA. Here I only thought they only made pop music. Guess they must have diversified.

Pet Ode Revisited

Famous dogs have been dying of late. First Oprah's, now Martha's. No mocking here (I'll leave that to others). Commiseration is my only response. But, it did make me think of the poem my Mom gave me many years ago. Well before Cubby died. It was an ode to a dying dog. I always had trouble reading it without tearing up. [Yeah, I'm a sensitive guy. But most of you know this. Deal with it.]

Anyway, Mom gave me a clipping of the poem which didn't have the author. Posted it on my personal website with "Unknown" in place of the author's name. I've passed along that poem several times. But, I never investigated further. Until Martha's dog died.

It's amazing what can be found on Google. I typed in the first line of the poem. And, poof! There it was. Author's name and all. Beth Norman Harris. The poem is quoted with several titles and there are several variations in the concluding verses. The one I originally received is the version I like best. With my bastardized title. Thanks Beth. And you too, Martha. This is as close to closure as I'm going to get.

A Dog's Plea (An Ode to Faithful Companions)
by Beth Norman Harris

Treat me kindly, my beloved friend, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me.

Do not break my spirit with a stick, for although I should lick your hand between blows, your patience and understanding will quickly teach me the things you would have me learn.

Speak to me often, for your voice is the world's sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footsteps falls upon my waiting ear.

Please take me inside when it is cold and wet, for I am a domesticated animal, no longer accustomed to bitter elements. I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth. Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst.

Feed me clean food that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life, should your life be in danger.

And, my friend, when I am very old, and I no longer enjoy good health, hearing and sight, do not make heroic efforts to keep me going. I am not having any fun. Please see that my trusting life is taken gently. I shall leave this earth knowing with the last breath I draw that my fate was always safest in your hands.

Yotaheads 2

Still discovering more Yotaheads. All within a short walking distance of our neighborhood. How's this for special: I scored a double. Right in front of the Hemkop on Linnegaten.

Of the two images below, the Yotahead on the left was found near the Fish Church (feskekorka in Swedish). This one, like the double above, starts close to the ground. I would love to find a Yotahead that covers part of the building facade and extends down onto the ground. I'm not asking anyone to do this, but if they did...

The Yotahead on the right was on Linnegaten as well, close by to the double. It no longer exists. May have been up for two weeks at most. Ephemeral art.

Someone had mentioned that this was a possibility. As Spring approaches, Goteborg kicks into gear and ramps up its program of beautifying the city. Graffiti is an eyesore; therefore it must be exterminated. Thus, graffiti is chemically scrubbed away. Well, not all of it. Most of the other Yotaheads I've photographed survive. In side alleys and, even, in plain view. Governments usually aren't that efficient when it comes to these things. I see that Goteborg is no exception. As the British would say...Hurrah!

Mind The Gap

We covered a lot of ground during our weekender to Glasgow. Might even have walked 500 miles. But, we didn't. Here's a brief synopsis of the trip:

Breathtakingly beautiful Anglican churches abound. Some, like Glasgow Cathedral, date from medieval times. Nothing beats the light inside a church that passes through stained glass windows. On a hill overlooking the church, the Necropolis mimics the city skyline. You are instructed not to walk between the headstones. Not so much out of reverence to the dead, but because many of the headstones are falling over (and, quite possibly, on your head).

Near the river Clyde, modern architecture radiantly gleams in reluctant sunshine. It rains a lot here. The moss on the statues, buildings, even gravestones, is evident of this. But, faded facades on Glasgow's gritty streets come alive in late afternoon sun. Quaint pubs and bars revel with tradition. Last night's vomit (not ours) clings to the pavement.

Haggis [how's that for a transition]. Check. But with an asterisk. I didn't go whole hog, or sheep, as the case may be. Instead, I had chicken breast stuffed with haggis. So, I missed out on the "neeps and tatties" but did have haggis nonetheless. The haggis was heavily seasoned with pepper; still, it tasted like turkey giblets. TJ even tried it. Though, he opted for fish and chips. And, we both threw back a few pints of ale. When in Rome...

At times, understanding the accent was difficult. On the cab ride to the airport, the driver attempted to engage us in conversation. His accent was quite heavy. We responded to questions that weren't asked. He eventually stopped asking us questions. Mind the gap, indeed.

To see more images from Glasgow, click here or on the image below:

Glaswegian Ladypose

Musik i Full Fart [Music at Full Speed]

I usually try to seek out music that doesn't fall within the confines of Top 40 radio. Not that there is anything wrong with that type of music; I grew up on Top 40. But, my musical tastes changed [for the better] in 1979 when I first heard the B-52's. Since then, I have navigated through a multitude of musical genres: from new wave/progressive, industrial, alternative, adult alternative, dance, electronica, ambient, even emo (though not a big fan). Today, my taste in music is broader than most. Eclectic to some. But, always recommended.

I have shared my musical tastes and song lists with a few friends. But, in the interest of economy, I've decided to expand the reach just a bit. I'm posting new and notable music. Hope you enjoy my selections. And, no, not all are available on iTunes US. Yet. But you can sample on iTunes UK. Song links will take you to a video.

Dance: if you can dance...for inspiration

• Audio Fraud vs. Peyton - Music in Me [This song is found on Hed Kandi's The Mix 2008. Great reworking of a Kiki Dee chestnut.]
• Nowak ft. D'Layna - Stand Up (Guitarness Extended Mix) [Also from HK Mix 2008. Feel the disco house vibe.]
• Armand Van Helden - I Want Your Soul [He can still get me on the dancefloor, almost 10 years since I danced to U Don't Know Me in Mykonos]
• Jill Jones - Someone to Jump Up (Function Junction & Korovin Remix) [You will dance to this song. Resistance is futile.]
• Freaks - Creeps [Get on The Dancefloor] (Vanadalism Vocal Mix) [Another great dancefloor burner]
  
• Booty Luv - Mess With My Man (Extended Mix)/Some Kinda Rush (Spencer & Hill Remix) [These girls just keep churning out the dancefloor hits]
• Moby - Disco Lies/I Love to Move in Here [Disco Lies delivers the goods. I Love? Meh. It started out with so much promise]
• Eako & Morelly ft. Barbra Evans - You Make Me Crazy (Club Mix) [Been listening to this for a few months. Channeling Dale Bozzio never sounded so good]
• Kimberley Locke - Band of Gold (Almighty Radio Edit) [You lose your disco card if you don't love this song. Check out the song Change as well, both the regular and Jason Nevins remix versions]
• Dannii Minogue + Jason Nevins - Touch Me Like That (Radio Edit or Jason Nevins Mix) [more retro-disco goodness]

Adult Alternative: great voices, introspective lyrics, accomplished songwriters apply only

• Adele - Chasing Pavements [Amy Winehouse without the drugs, drama and beehive]
• Adele - Make You Feel My Love [Exquisite. And, my comment about Chasing Pavements was a disservice to Adele]
• Sheryl Crow - Now That You're Gone [Sheryl, vulnerable and defiant. Just the way I like her]
• Shawn Mullins - All in My Head [Another finely-crafted song of doubt and lament]

Ambient Alternative: sonic sounds to move you into a different time, space, feeling

• Morcheeba - Blue Chair [The lead singers may change, but their sound remains the same - inviting]
• Goldfrapp - Road to Nowhere/A&E/Happiness [Step inside this lush soundscape]
• Madita - September [Love lost, reimagined as a James Bond theme]
• Sia - Day Too Soon [My favorite love song, or any type of song, from 2007]

Alternative: alterna-who, alterna-what

• B-52s - Funplex [Fun, danceable music. Check. Holy Crap! They're back. And it's like they were never gone. I'm at the mall on a diet pill!]
• Gnarls Barkley - Run [Can a song be too retro cool for its own good and still be great? This song gets my vote]

Pop: from both sides of the pond, but with a preference for europop

• Kylie Minogue - 2 Hearts [Vampy, seductive fun. I'm in love. Wooooh!]
• Enrique Iglesias - Tired of Being Sorry [Muy, muy....you get the idea]
• Sarah Bareilles - Bottle it Up [Yeah, she's everyone's darling. But this song is catchy. In a Jason Mraz kind of way]

Guilty Pleasures: you know you shouldn't like it, but you do

• Shania Twain - That Don't Impress Me Much (international version) [Recently, heard this on the radio. Always liked it. Just bought it. Shania: she's a little bit country and a whole lotta pop]

Entrail Breath

We are off to Glasgow, Scotland for a quick weekend adventure. Hat tip to Mark for the suggestion and for the recommendations on what to see and do.

Mark suggested that I be adventurous and try haggis. I knew haggis was a traditional Scottish dish. I vaguely remember that it contained some "interesting" ingredients. Well, it turns out those ingredients include sheep heart, liver and lungs. Traditionally, they are encased and cooked in a sheep's stomach. I get queasy thinking about it. Still, I consider myself a trouper, maybe even a Super Trouper.

So, I thought I would find a bonnie Scottish restaurant and order it. I ran this idea past TJ. Having described haggis to him in detail, his main concern was that I might get "entrail breath." He does have a point.

Seasonal Shifts

Cumulonimbus clouds. They were everywhere today. This signifies severe instability in the atmosphere. It also heralds the arrival of Spring (var, in Swedish, with a circle over the "a") here in Goteborg as far as I'm concerned. Having looked at intermittent banks of flat gray clouds for the past 2 months, I am excited (as ever a weather geek can be) to see these new puffy shapes. Change is in the air. And so was hail. Hail! Pea-sized. How exciting.

How else can I tell that Spring is imminent? Well, for the past week or so, all the restaurants, bars, and cafes in the city have set up their outdoor seating areas. While some have set up semi-permanent [enclosed steel] structures, others simply roped off a few tables out into the sidewalk; they all take this very seriously. I'm waiting to see if the 7-Eleven stores have an outdoor space. It wouldn't surprised me. Oh, I plan on being there in the thick of it. I do. When the weather actually warms up. Which should be when the next season (which is supposed to be Summer) rolls around. Okay, I kid, I kid. It has been warm-ish of late.

Side Note: After we both arrived in February, TJ and I noticed people sitting outside at a few cafes and restaurants. It was barely above freezing. Most establishments provided blankets for their customers. Still, this seems indicative of a hearty populace.

Store displays started advertising Spring back in February. The color for Spring 2008 in Goteborg is a pale green. It's a tasteful green. Not too pastel. Certainly not too Kelly green. The landscape is starting to turn green as well. Cherry trees have blossomed. Other deciduous trees are beginning to bud. Soon, very soon.

And with the change in seasons is the change in daylight. It's on the increase. Daylights Saving Time (yes, they do have it in Europe) just switched on 2 weeks ago. We are closing in on 14 hours of daylight. Currently, the sun sets at 8pm and there is twilight until 9:15pm. The sun not only is appearing longer, but it is also on the move northward. Exhibit A below illustrates this point.

The photo on the right is from my first post and was taken in mid-March. Notice where the sun is setting. The photo on the right was taken yesterday. I have marked on this photo where the sun set last month with a red arrow. That is a big gap. We were worried that the beautiful sunsets we have been experiencing were going to be obscured by the hotel - behind which the sun currently is setting. Now, we realize that will not be a problem. Because by the time June 20th rolls around, sunset on the horizon will be visible again. Just much farther North. By that time there will be close to 19 hours of daylight. Twilight should last until midnight...or later. If you are coming for a visit this Summer, be sure to bring a sleep mask. If you don't have one, you may have to make do with what we have available....

Eye on Europe

It's hard not to be motivated to take pictures in Europe. And after a period where I hadn't been that inspired to take a lot of photos, that's a really good feeling. My output is increasing. And I'm starting to really enjoy composing shots. The weather doesn't always cooperate, but that too is part of the process.

So, it's time to show a few of them above and beyond what is on the blog. From Oslo, I added a streetlight to my collection. And, as can be seen in the Budapest images, I continue to enjoy cataloging manhole covers. Statues will always be a favorite subject. As will unintentional humor.

Below are image links to online catalogs for each of our recent trips. Click on a photo and it will take you to the pix for that destination. Fine art photographs are shown alongside pix taken with a small digital camera; it should be easy to tell which is which. Somewhat easy. Oh, and, there are more pictures of TJ and I. Enjoy! Feedback is always welcome.

Copenhagen


Oslo


Stockholm


Budapest

Parting Shots [Budapest]

For those of you who have been requesting a photo of us, here you go. On the [hop-on, hop-off tourist] bus, traveling to and fro, exploring the sights. We are the Buda-Pests!

The Angry Whopper! Um, huh? Is this for real? Apparently, it is.

We saw this poster around the city, but didn't take a close look at it until the morning we left. Glad we did. Some sort of cautionary tale about a dog that jumps [or falls?] out a window, walks in the middle of the road, and is hit by a car. At this point, the dog is represented by a puddle of blood with two eyes. Seriously. An ambulance pulls up, a hand reaches out and PICKS UP the puddle. Then, there is surgery after which the [not quite sad-looking] dog is bandaged head to paw. Finally, the less bandaged dog finds a home at some sort of animal sanctuary. I think. Actually, I'm still a bit confused. But, I laughed. Although, I'm not sure that I should have. But, I did. I'm probably going to hell for this.

Weekender: Hungarian Style

TJ and I ventured to Budapest this weekend. A whirlwind weekender to the former Soviet Bloc. In the images above, these statues are located high on Gellert Hill at the base of Szabadsag Szobor, or Liberty Statue.

In 1873, the city was formed from three cities: Buda, Obuda and Pest. Now districts, Buda and Pest are separated by the Danube River. It is an exquisitely beautiful city with ornate castles, churches, baths, and government buildings. You not only see the history around you, but you can feel it too; it's palpable.

The image on the left is the tile mosaic in front of St. Stephen's Basilica (Szent Istvan-bazilika). The image on the right is a statue on the ground in front of Buda Castle. No, I didn't knock it over.

TJ and I weren't sure what to expect from Budapest. We were pleasantly surprised. At night, most of the buildings and bridges are lit up; a truly magical view. The first night, we walked along three of the main bridges spanning the Danube. On Saturday, we covered a lot of Buda and Pest by taking one of the hop-on, hop-off tourist buses.

One critique. Although, I think Budapest is one of the more beautiful cities that I have seen in Europe, I was a little shocked by the amount of graffiti that covered most street-level facades. Still, it did not detract (too much) from the old world charm of the city. And I mean really old world. I could have spent a week photographing the crumbling, faded. stained facades. Still, I did manage to take quite a few pix in the time we had. Luckily, the weather cooperated. By that I mean, it rained a bit, the sun came out more than a few times, and it was warm-ish.

Budapest is relatively inexpensive compared to the rest of Europe. It's nice that our money goes a little farther somewhere. Most tourist shops were filled with paprika and goulash mix. At the Great (or Central) Market Hall, I bought the former so that I could properly make the latter. Paprika can be either hot or sweet; I couldn't decide so I bought both. We also tried some tasty pastries filled with apple/cherries (TJ) and poppy seeds/cherries (me). Below is an image from the Market Hall.

We did not order goulash while dining out. Thought about it, but didn't. Did try a fried cheese dish with a peach sauce and dumplings. That was worth the trip right there. And, I had the best little heavy (dumpling-like) pancake dollops for breakfast. Sank right to the bottom of my stomach. And a warm waffle filled with vanilla custard always hits the spot. Utter bliss. Koszonom, Budapest!

Why Rudolph Can't Play Anymore

Poor Rudolph. No more reindeer games for him. This was reindeer stew I cooked up last week. It was pretty tasty. Seven parts veggie plus one part reindeer. Yes, it was ground meat. Yes, the connotations are dreadful. No, I didn't; it came from the store that way. Let me say that again...it came from the store that way. The grocery store. Welcome to Sweden.

I'm still trying to figure out a good description for the taste of the reindeer meat. No, not like chicken. It was a tad dry despite my best efforts. I used sage and salt as the main seasonings. Wasn't sure what else to use so I improvised with some other things (olive oil, balsamic vinegar). My first attempt. More to follow. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

Unconditional Puppy Love

I wasn't sure whether I really wanted to post about this. Which is precisely why I probably should.

The other day I was unpacking and organizing thousands of photos, enlargements, negatives, and slides. I knew it was coming. And, I put it off as my last unpacking chore. My collective body of work (both personal and professional) had been winnowed down a few moves before, but I always like to revisit and re-evaluate it from a fresh perspective. And because I had to put organize my office so it actually resembled an office.

Some of the negatives and photos had been placed into labeled folders. As I was moving and shifting things around, the contents of one of the folders spilled out. I went to put it all back and realized it contained photos of my dog Cubby who passed away in 2000. I hadn't looked at the photos in a while. I came to this one. And the tears began to fall. Over seven years gone and I still miss her. Over the years, I've shared my thoughts with a few friends about how important Cubby was to me. So, maybe it's time to put more of the story out there. To fill in the gaps. To make the next time less painful.

It's always best when you are chosen. And I was by Cubby. It was 1986. I had just graduated college and moved back home with my parents. My Dad went with me to the breeder's house to view the last three pups (all females) in a litter of eight. Field dogs. Intelligent. Cute. The owners tried to steer me to one of the bigger, more classical looking pups. But, when I squatted down to get a closer look at them, one jumped up in my lap and stared up at me. The runt. Cubby. She had chosen me. My decision had been made for me.

Through the years, Cubby and I shared the highs (like scaling 14,000 ft peaks) and the lows. The lows were quite low. Knowing I was different. Not knowing how to be strong enough to lead the life I wanted. I geographically separated myself from family and dropped out of communication with friends. All because I feared rejection. And through it all, Cubby was there. Her love was unconditional. Her eyes offered no judgment.

And then I decided that it was time to lead my life. It was 1999, and I was living in California. Trying to figure out where to live. What to do. Cubby was 13 and slowing down. She needed more attention. She needed a yard. I felt she needed more than what I could offer at that point in my life. And the guilt I'll carry is knowing that all she needed me. And I couldn't be there for her. In stepped my parents. They offered to take Cubby. For what I knew would be her final few years. So, I drove Cubby back to Maine. Back to where she started her life with me. Back to what I hoped was familiar and comforting. Back to the welcoming arms of my parents.

A little over a year later, I was at work in Santa Monica. My Mom called. Cubby had collapsed. She was weak. At the vet, the decision was made to bring her home and see if she made it through the night and, possibly, improved. In the morning, her condition was the same. And I had to make the decision. From afar. The vet offered to come to my parent's house. As they administered the drugs to put her to sleep, I told my Mom to do something. When Cubby was a puppy and couldn't (or wouldn't) sleep, I would curl up next to her, stroke head head, and whisper in her ear "It's okay, little girl. Go to sleep." over and over. That is what I told my Mom to do.

I can never thank my parents enough for being so generous as to accept Cubby into their home. Knowing they would be left to deal directly with her death. It was hard on them both.

Getting your dog's ashes in the mail is a strange experience. Who knew opening a Fed-Ex package would evoke such strong emotions? Cubby's remains have been scattered over some of our favorite places: Mt. Sanitas in Boulder, Colorado; Ferry Beach in Scarborough Maine; Dog Beach in Ocean Beach, California. And one place she never saw in person. Her ashes are part of the Big Island of Hawaii; one of my favorite places She was incorporated into the landscape when a lobe of lava enveloped her ashes and puppy collar. It makes me smile knowing that she is out there in the world.

Over the years, many of my friends got to know Cubby and brought her into their lives. Special thanks to Daryl and Bob - your love and care for Cubby will never be forgotten.

Cubby was important to me. She was an integral part of my life. She was part of my identity. For 13 years, we were nearly inseparable. And now, sometimes, that separation hurts.

Cubby lives on in my memory. And, occasionally, in my dreams. Always in photos. I've had a photo collection of her on the web for years.

Snow in the Middle of July?

Hard to believe this was just last week. The first substantial snow of the season. It's all gone now. In fact, it's quite balmy. TJ decided to wear his non-winter coat to the gym tonight. I went sans hat. Balmy, indeed.

July, we've been told, will be different. Absolutely no snow whatsoever. It will be warm...er. We may be able to wear shorts, but not likely. Open-toed shoes - an outside chance.

So, of course, we should escape somewhere warm (even hot) for holiday. And, we are...for part of it. Italy should be quite balmy in July. That is one of our destinations. We will be passing through the Alps (twice). So, best to pack layers. After Italy, Iceland. Hmmm, it's even colder than Sweden there. We'll bring sweaters. After that, camping amongst the fjords in Norway. Crap, that's gonna be cold too! Luckily, we'll have the dogs for added warmth.

So, why am I detailing our travel plans during our Summer holiday. How could this possibly affect you? Besides making you a tad jealous (no, I would never do that). Well, while we are away holidaying (just made it up), we will not be accepting guests. So coming for a visit from mid-July to mid-August is right out. None shall venture forth. None shall stay.

But should our dear friends and family wish to come for a visit at any other time, you (collectively) are most welcome.

Cross over, my children, cross over. Europe (and Sweden) await you!