It constantly shocks me how old little Macen is getting. He's going to be 6 in a few weeks but the age itself means nothing to me really. Having no real sense of what a six year old should behave like, all I can do is look at the two baby nephews and remember when Mace was that little. Especially because his little brother is the spitting image of him.
The other week, it really hit close to home that our little baby really was growing up. When I went to visit him, he told me that his fish had died earlier and took me out to show me where the poor fish had been buried. Mace then dragged me upstairs to show off his new red fish.
Let's be clear here - Mace has had a fish since he was about a year old. The fishs' names have always been "Choo Choo" because that was pretty much the only word Mace could say at the time. Well, that and "Dada" but there was someone else already answering to that. So Choo Choo is was.
Macen's second pet was a little pug named "Lilo" for the cartoon Lilo & Stitch. Finally, his new puppy was named "Ruby" for Max & Ruby.
Back to the story at hand. Mace showed me his new fish, which I assumed was named Choo Choo (4) but that was not to be so. Macen gave me a 'duh' look and informed me that the newest member of the family is named "Luke". As in Luke Skywalker! I guess the days of our innocent little baby are long past but I thought we had some more time with our little boy. Before I know it, he's going to be out dating little girls who don't deserve him. Goddess forbid.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Cote d'Azur finale
I can't believe it's taken me this long to finish this...especially because I wrote most of it while I was on the road anyway!
Day three once again dawned bright and early. I had kept this day free to go into the Alps and mountain villages. Started off in St Paul en Vence for my morning coffee. This is the village right by my hotel and I had yet to make it there. The village itself was beautiful and quaint. Tucked into the mountainside and surrounded by hills, there's been little to no modern development to it and it shows.
Next stop was Cannes – only because on a whim, I decided to take that exit on the roundabout. I pretty much decided there and then that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to go there before heading to the Verdon Gorge in case I ran out of time.
Driving inside Cannes sucked ass. Even worse than Monacco and that's saying a lot. But at least it was a straight shot to the beach where the lovely, expensive yatchs lolled in their moorings. I walked around until it was time for lunch, which was a lovely banana crepe on the beach (I could really get used to this kind of eating)!
As I was walking back to my car to leave, I was stopped by a lovely man named Montana. It seems this very intelligent guy lived in NYC for 15 years and decided he’d had enough, packed it all up and moved to the EU. He currently lives in Italy with his wife and two kids and also has a place in Cannes. Pays the bills by being a golf instructor but seems to have many other ventures around. This guy has got the right idea!! I’ve decided that one day I’m going to do the same. I should let work know. Jaap, if you’re reading this, consider yourself warned.
Okay, it was now 2pm and I really needed to hit the road. The tour book said to give the canyons a full day but since when do I ever heed tour guides? I made it to Grasse (perfume capital of the world) and promptly got lost. Since I also needed the loo, I stopped at the Fragranod perfumerie and then since I was there anyway, I took their 25 minute tour. Did you know it takes about 6000 kilos of roses to make 1 litre of essence of rose for perfumes?
Finally at 3pm I headed toward the Gorge. After a hair-raising couple of hours, I finally made it to the cooler viewpoints. WOW!!! As I stood on top of those canyons, I wondered what the hell someone with vertigo was doing up there anyway. Still, it was amazing and worth the trip. Though, I would do it via tour bus next time. The drive really wasn't that much fun on my own, especially later in the day. The road was pretty much four hours of this :(
On my way home, I stopped by a little village where I guess is the touring start/stop point for the Gorge. I've never seen a 10 square mile of land so filled with bikers, hikers & granolas in my life. And I'm from the ISLAND! How mind-boggling is that?
10pm and it was home sweet home (after getting lost yet again) but the damned restaurant in the hotel was closed at 9:30!!! I thought that Europeans ate later than we did?!!? What gives? So I ate a bunch of food I had picked up at various patisseries and boulangeries along the way…how could I resist?
Three things occurred to me that evening. First that I was leaving the next day (sniff, sniff) and second, I hadn’t seen anything of Nice and third I had not once put on my bikini! Still, I had at least another 14 hours before heading to the airport, plenty of time to check a few things off.
So, after a quick dip in the beautiful hotel pool I headed to bed for an early start. The next morning, I headed to Nice for yet another crepe (had to get them all in before I went back to rainy Vancouver) and a short meander around Old Nice and their famous flower market. Frankly, it's a smaller, outdoor version of Granville Island - I wouldn't go back. But they DID have great croissants :)
And that's it - my short sojourn into the French Riviera ended on a high note too. When I bought the car back with a petite scratch, the lovely people at Hertz said I didn't need to pay for it. Viva la France!!!
Day three once again dawned bright and early. I had kept this day free to go into the Alps and mountain villages. Started off in St Paul en Vence for my morning coffee. This is the village right by my hotel and I had yet to make it there. The village itself was beautiful and quaint. Tucked into the mountainside and surrounded by hills, there's been little to no modern development to it and it shows.
Next stop was Cannes – only because on a whim, I decided to take that exit on the roundabout. I pretty much decided there and then that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to go there before heading to the Verdon Gorge in case I ran out of time.
Driving inside Cannes sucked ass. Even worse than Monacco and that's saying a lot. But at least it was a straight shot to the beach where the lovely, expensive yatchs lolled in their moorings. I walked around until it was time for lunch, which was a lovely banana crepe on the beach (I could really get used to this kind of eating)!
As I was walking back to my car to leave, I was stopped by a lovely man named Montana. It seems this very intelligent guy lived in NYC for 15 years and decided he’d had enough, packed it all up and moved to the EU. He currently lives in Italy with his wife and two kids and also has a place in Cannes. Pays the bills by being a golf instructor but seems to have many other ventures around. This guy has got the right idea!! I’ve decided that one day I’m going to do the same. I should let work know. Jaap, if you’re reading this, consider yourself warned.
Okay, it was now 2pm and I really needed to hit the road. The tour book said to give the canyons a full day but since when do I ever heed tour guides? I made it to Grasse (perfume capital of the world) and promptly got lost. Since I also needed the loo, I stopped at the Fragranod perfumerie and then since I was there anyway, I took their 25 minute tour. Did you know it takes about 6000 kilos of roses to make 1 litre of essence of rose for perfumes?
Finally at 3pm I headed toward the Gorge. After a hair-raising couple of hours, I finally made it to the cooler viewpoints. WOW!!! As I stood on top of those canyons, I wondered what the hell someone with vertigo was doing up there anyway. Still, it was amazing and worth the trip. Though, I would do it via tour bus next time. The drive really wasn't that much fun on my own, especially later in the day. The road was pretty much four hours of this :(On my way home, I stopped by a little village where I guess is the touring start/stop point for the Gorge. I've never seen a 10 square mile of land so filled with bikers, hikers & granolas in my life. And I'm from the ISLAND! How mind-boggling is that?
10pm and it was home sweet home (after getting lost yet again) but the damned restaurant in the hotel was closed at 9:30!!! I thought that Europeans ate later than we did?!!? What gives? So I ate a bunch of food I had picked up at various patisseries and boulangeries along the way…how could I resist? Three things occurred to me that evening. First that I was leaving the next day (sniff, sniff) and second, I hadn’t seen anything of Nice and third I had not once put on my bikini! Still, I had at least another 14 hours before heading to the airport, plenty of time to check a few things off.
So, after a quick dip in the beautiful hotel pool I headed to bed for an early start. The next morning, I headed to Nice for yet another crepe (had to get them all in before I went back to rainy Vancouver) and a short meander around Old Nice and their famous flower market. Frankly, it's a smaller, outdoor version of Granville Island - I wouldn't go back. But they DID have great croissants :)
And that's it - my short sojourn into the French Riviera ended on a high note too. When I bought the car back with a petite scratch, the lovely people at Hertz said I didn't need to pay for it. Viva la France!!!
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Broomsticks and memories
I was at my mom's house the other day and leaning against her kitchen door was a broom that they use in Vietnam. It's basically a bunch of rushes bundled together without much of a handle so you have to bend over double to use it.
Let's not even talk about what the hell my mom was doing with it when she's got all the top of the line brooms, mops and swifters at her house. I love her but sometimes that woman just baffles me.
The reason I'm actually writing about this is it reminded me of an "incident" that happened when I was in Vietnam back in 2004. Tammi and I had spent several days in my grandma's village, which up until then had only seen one whitie (my brother-in-law who had visited the year before). This was well before the little hotel with Shirtless Ron was built (that's a whole other story) so we stayed at my grandma's house. It was about three in the morning when Tammi shook me awake and told me she heard rustling on the floor and wanted me to go investigate!!! Finally realizing that I wasn't going to get any sleep unless I did something, I bravely got out of bed and ran into the kitchen to grab anything handy (in this case, said broom). I then spent about half an hour poking around our suitcases and bags on the ground to look for the rogue rat. Let me clarify here that rats in Vietnam vary in sizes from small dog to large skunk. After my seriously half-hearted attempt (I didn't REALLY want to find it!) I finally gave up and crawled back into bed and told Tammi to stick a pillow over her head so she wouldn't hear it anymore.
Good times on the road!!!
Let's not even talk about what the hell my mom was doing with it when she's got all the top of the line brooms, mops and swifters at her house. I love her but sometimes that woman just baffles me.
The reason I'm actually writing about this is it reminded me of an "incident" that happened when I was in Vietnam back in 2004. Tammi and I had spent several days in my grandma's village, which up until then had only seen one whitie (my brother-in-law who had visited the year before). This was well before the little hotel with Shirtless Ron was built (that's a whole other story) so we stayed at my grandma's house. It was about three in the morning when Tammi shook me awake and told me she heard rustling on the floor and wanted me to go investigate!!! Finally realizing that I wasn't going to get any sleep unless I did something, I bravely got out of bed and ran into the kitchen to grab anything handy (in this case, said broom). I then spent about half an hour poking around our suitcases and bags on the ground to look for the rogue rat. Let me clarify here that rats in Vietnam vary in sizes from small dog to large skunk. After my seriously half-hearted attempt (I didn't REALLY want to find it!) I finally gave up and crawled back into bed and told Tammi to stick a pillow over her head so she wouldn't hear it anymore.
Good times on the road!!!
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Nice - part deux
Day Two
As I mentioned in the previous post, I crashed at around 8 the night before and woke up at around 7 the next morning. I made my way downstairs to get my coffee. Notice the shades and tank top?
The general plan for the day was to head towards Aix-en-Provence to the west but somehow I ended up on the freeway going east. There was obviously nothing for it but to swing by the big shopping center, CAP 3000. Hey, it was right there and I needed to turn around anyway. It was a huge disappointment though. At least I got to practice my French. Un croissant s'il vous plait!
Once I was back to the open road I decided I should get my ass out as westerly as I was going and then take a meandering way back. It took just under 2 hours to get to Aix-en-Provence. Side note and recommendation for anyone who wants to follow in my footsteps - do NOT drive down the A8 freeway between 130-150km/hour with the top of the convertible down, no matter how warm it is. By the end of the trip, I felt like Bridget Jones when she arrived to the B&B for her mini-break with Daniel Cleaver. For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, let’s just say that it wasn’t pretty. I made a mental note to throw a comb into my bag (which I would forget everyday!).
Provence was beautiful. Everyone describing Provence always talk about the “light” there that drew artists such as Cézanne. As a very un-artistic person, I didn’t really know (or care) what they were talking about. But when you get to Provence, it’s immediately obviously that there’s something special there. The “light” washes everything in a warm glow. After lunch, I decided it was time to move on…still had far to go.
I immediately headed south towards the coast and head towards a blip in the map called Casse. This town was called out in the travel book and is well worth a pit stop. The center of town was difficult to get to (very, very narrow, winding and steep roads)and insanely crowded as there was some event going on. I made several laps and couldn't find a place to park so I just drove through. The thing to note is that all the roads in the center of town look like marble! Incredible. As I was leaving Casse, I got a little lost and ended up driving down this strange narrow path. It had a wall on both sides and I could barely fit my small little converible. I was driving down it for about five mintues before a car started to come out a driveway and turn towards me. I was going the wrong way!!! Oops. The French should consider putting up those Do not enter signs.
I made my leisurely way towards St Tropez just in time for dinner. The road into St Tropez was very long and windy. Reminded me of the drive to Tofino on the Island with less cliffs. St. Tropez is very posh (check out the parkade!) and insanely, insanely expensive!
I picked a nice little Italian place right in the center of town and watched groups of old men play bocci while having dinner.
Now that I was full of lovely seafood pasta, I was tired and just wanted to get home. So, I put the top up and got on the A8 (see, not as dumb as I look) and hauled ass home. Sort of anyway. I ended up missing my damned exit THREE times. Grrr.
As I mentioned in the previous post, I crashed at around 8 the night before and woke up at around 7 the next morning. I made my way downstairs to get my coffee. Notice the shades and tank top?
The general plan for the day was to head towards Aix-en-Provence to the west but somehow I ended up on the freeway going east. There was obviously nothing for it but to swing by the big shopping center, CAP 3000. Hey, it was right there and I needed to turn around anyway. It was a huge disappointment though. At least I got to practice my French. Un croissant s'il vous plait!
Once I was back to the open road I decided I should get my ass out as westerly as I was going and then take a meandering way back. It took just under 2 hours to get to Aix-en-Provence. Side note and recommendation for anyone who wants to follow in my footsteps - do NOT drive down the A8 freeway between 130-150km/hour with the top of the convertible down, no matter how warm it is. By the end of the trip, I felt like Bridget Jones when she arrived to the B&B for her mini-break with Daniel Cleaver. For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, let’s just say that it wasn’t pretty. I made a mental note to throw a comb into my bag (which I would forget everyday!).
Provence was beautiful. Everyone describing Provence always talk about the “light” there that drew artists such as Cézanne. As a very un-artistic person, I didn’t really know (or care) what they were talking about. But when you get to Provence, it’s immediately obviously that there’s something special there. The “light” washes everything in a warm glow. After lunch, I decided it was time to move on…still had far to go.
I immediately headed south towards the coast and head towards a blip in the map called Casse. This town was called out in the travel book and is well worth a pit stop. The center of town was difficult to get to (very, very narrow, winding and steep roads)and insanely crowded as there was some event going on. I made several laps and couldn't find a place to park so I just drove through. The thing to note is that all the roads in the center of town look like marble! Incredible. As I was leaving Casse, I got a little lost and ended up driving down this strange narrow path. It had a wall on both sides and I could barely fit my small little converible. I was driving down it for about five mintues before a car started to come out a driveway and turn towards me. I was going the wrong way!!! Oops. The French should consider putting up those Do not enter signs.
I made my leisurely way towards St Tropez just in time for dinner. The road into St Tropez was very long and windy. Reminded me of the drive to Tofino on the Island with less cliffs. St. Tropez is very posh (check out the parkade!) and insanely, insanely expensive!
I picked a nice little Italian place right in the center of town and watched groups of old men play bocci while having dinner.
Now that I was full of lovely seafood pasta, I was tired and just wanted to get home. So, I put the top up and got on the A8 (see, not as dumb as I look) and hauled ass home. Sort of anyway. I ended up missing my damned exit THREE times. Grrr.
Monday, May 05, 2008
Strange Encounters
The oddest thing happened to me today. I was walking into the grocery store by my house after work and this guy ran up behind me, stuck his head in front of my face. I jumped back and took my iPod earphones out so I could hear him. He repeated a litany of noises that I assumed was some Asian language that I didn't understand. As I looked at him blankly and trying to come up with a Vietnamese response to this very Caucasian white guy, he repeated himself. Again! So, he finally clicks in and says, "Oh, you're not Japanese?" No shit sherlock. (For the record, I don't look anything like a Japanese girl!!!).
He then asks me what nationality I was. I gave him my standard response of "Canadian" which kind of threw him. At this point I had to do a small reality check to see if I was still in Vancouver. Check. When he finds out that I'm of Vietnamese descent he brilliantly pipes up with "I LOVE dim sum". That's great, so do I but it's not Vietnamese. Geez.
By this point his friend had caught up with us and so we stood in the aisle and chatted for a while. The friend had just moved from Calgary about a year ago while Mr. Asian was moving here in three weeks from Edmonton. Well, that explained a lot. Vancouverites simply aren't that friendly. Nor do they chase down any dark-haired woman and assume she's going to understand Japanese.
The great thing is his exit is as great as his entrance. To set the stage, I should mention that these two guys train people on how to pay off their debts & mortgages in half the time. As I'm about to leave, Mr. Asian says, "So if any of your friends have mortgages that they need help with, you should let us know". I walked away as his friend gave him a look of disbelief.
He then asks me what nationality I was. I gave him my standard response of "Canadian" which kind of threw him. At this point I had to do a small reality check to see if I was still in Vancouver. Check. When he finds out that I'm of Vietnamese descent he brilliantly pipes up with "I LOVE dim sum". That's great, so do I but it's not Vietnamese. Geez.
By this point his friend had caught up with us and so we stood in the aisle and chatted for a while. The friend had just moved from Calgary about a year ago while Mr. Asian was moving here in three weeks from Edmonton. Well, that explained a lot. Vancouverites simply aren't that friendly. Nor do they chase down any dark-haired woman and assume she's going to understand Japanese.
The great thing is his exit is as great as his entrance. To set the stage, I should mention that these two guys train people on how to pay off their debts & mortgages in half the time. As I'm about to leave, Mr. Asian says, "So if any of your friends have mortgages that they need help with, you should let us know". I walked away as his friend gave him a look of disbelief.
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