tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60138658273019050172024-03-13T05:43:47.439-07:00Rant and RaveOne life. No regrets.
This blog is littered with unfiltered thoughts, ramblings and other stuff. Often written in a tram, or in a stolen moment I do not attempt to achieve perfection - so I thank you for not expecting it :) Auto correct is often both my friend and enemy. This blog is about my journey through the jungle of life, the people I happen to meet along the way and the very special ones that fill my heart both close and afar.
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger160125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-14911695413624702972017-11-30T12:05:00.001-08:002017-11-30T12:05:43.938-08:00My choiceHappiness. We read blogs about how to achieve it. Shelves are lined with endless books on the steps to reaching such a state. Conversations are riddled with questions about ones state of mind. Essentially it is what each and every person desires.<br />
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This was something that I have not struggled with personally. I looked at the fact that it was a choice, and mine was clear. Then life got busy. I found myself in the company of people who struggled with stress and unhappiness. Although also feeling the stresses of life, I tried to look at the good stuff and focus on that. Then something happened; I began to feel guilty about feeling good when my companions were feeling to low. I started to share my unhappy feelings too. It made me feel like we were bonding better. Time went on and I continued. Then came a day when I found myself literally feeling unhappy all of the time. I was arguing with those closest to me over the most foolish of things. <br />
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Basically I had transformed into a person that I was not even fond of - not a nice realization let me tell you. I realized, being unhappy had become my new habit. My happy friends had been replaced by my stressed and dissatisfied circle.<br />
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So yeah starting today I am done with endless time talking about how stressed we all are, or how horrible things may or may not be... I am done with the inward focus. <br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-16456095150251099762017-07-01T00:51:00.000-07:002017-07-01T00:51:50.718-07:00Running no longer<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 15.54px; margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Transformational. A cheesy word, but the only one that comes to mind appropriate enough to describe the past couple of years.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">One of the challenges with being a single and independent female is that we know we cannot rely on anyone. We fiercely defend our independence. We hide our emotions. At least that was what it was like for me. I ferociously protected myself to assure that the life I fought hard to build would not crumble around me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My lifestyle was fast. Not in the "wall street" sense, but more in that I had no idle time. Work, gym, friends. My refrigerator contained a yogurt or two if I was lucky, my desk drawer a bag of nuts or something – eating simply did not fit into my routine.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I felt restless all the time. Even in my sleep. The couple of relationships I dallied in soon left me feeling bored and caged. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But I was happy. My life was full. Friends a plenty. A magnificent family. A son who touched my life daily. There however, was always that restless feeling.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On a trip to Zurich a few years ago my ever-wise son sat me down and told me it was time to slow down a bit. Maybe try to get eight hours of sleep a night. I listened and did give it a good try. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next thing that happened was I ended up in an executive assessment. Ten hours of brutal testing. Some parts I did well in, but one part I was weak. At least per the panel assessing me. They said I was "too cold". <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Do you know how to have fun and relax?" they asked. "Our panel cannot emotionally connect with you. You are calm and controlled, but we want to also connect with you." The all-male panel later shared that this was often a problem with career driven females. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hmm… <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I mentioned this response to some of the friends I spent time with; "ridiculous" was their reply. I also shared the feedback with the man I was dating. "Yes, I can see what they meant." <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Before I go on, I want to say that I don’t care much for status quo. The need to please people is not something for which I strive. But I do want to be the best version of myself; therefore, when I added up these things, I knew there much be something I could possibly do better.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After some time, I realized that I was so busy proving to no one in particular, that I was fine. That I needed no one, that I could do it all. I was ready to battle in a moment's notice. This resulted in relationships filled with power struggles and me making sure he understood I didn’t need him. No matter where I was, I took on more than everyone. People complained about stress – not me. Bring. It. On. I was happy though. Up for pretty much anything, and this made me popular amongst my friends.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I decided to start investing my energy in different way. My guy got me into cooking. Regular sleep routines. Netflix series. Mountain biking and mountain hikes. I tried to let my guard down with people; sometimes successfully, often not. I started to eat better. My refrigerator is usually full. I can even cry on occasion now, something that was for years completely allusive. I no longer feel restless. Finally.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">These two years have been a challenge for me. Modifying a long-standing behavior pattern is not easy. But what I have learned in this process, was that the façade of absolute control and independence is a fragile one. It takes constant awareness and an exhausting investment of energy. It also leaves one feeling restless and searching for something to satisfy. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Zürich, Schweiz47.3768866 8.541694000000006847.204846599999996 8.2189705000000064 47.5489266 8.8644175000000072tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-87099657967181454762016-04-09T06:48:00.001-07:002016-05-11T11:53:29.219-07:00Texting a Life Away<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The couple of times I have joined my colleagues for lunch resulted in them grabbing my phone and keeping it for the duration of the lunch. "You're so bad with that thing," they said. I just put it down to them giving me a hard-time, something they do somewhat often.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A visit with my son and he stated "do you think you could be more present mom?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Still I was able to justify both my actions and their comments. Then I met a friend for dinner, it had been a while. I placed my phone on the table, soon we were clinking glasses, chatting and laughing. A few pings from my phone and I broke from the conversation and quickly responded to the incoming texts. It was the next moment where things changed for me. A look of sadness and disappointment radiated from my friends eyes. I made some excuse, like I always did. "Do you think we can have dinner without your phone tonight?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">My heart broke a little right then. It broke because it was in that moment that I realized I had a problem. It broke because I could only wonder how many times I made people I cared feel less than happy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I don't want to be that person. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It happened to me the other day too. I was enjoying a nice afternoon with a friend. We were canoeing on the lake on an incredibly beautiful and sunny day. He started to get texts from friends about an event he was interested in. Excitedly he texted them back telling me about it also. It continued. His messages back and forth. I paddled. I paddled alone while he texted. I enjoyed the beautiful sunny moment. Alone. I also watched him. I felt pity. Disappointment. It was okay for a short while to see him share his excitement for something that was not happening here and now, but then it shifted. I thought of how beautiful this moment was and that I was unable to share it with the person I was for all intensive purposes supposedly <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">sharing it. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Then I also thought of how nice it would be to share that moment with someone who might appreciate it. I </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">wonder, how many times did people have the same thought about me? I don't want to allow for that opportunity again. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Life is about the people and the moments you share with them. At least in my opinion. I know I will never for one moment regret not grabbing my phone and breaking a beautiful moment to respond to an inconsequential text. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I fight the urge to pick up my phone sometimes. If I were to be really honest, I would have to say that I have good days, and better days. But I am trying. I want to be present. And frankly, I don't want to keep the company of someone who isn't present either. Next time I go canoeing, or set out to enjoy a moment, I won't be sharing it with the texting friend. He was able to justify why he wanted to text. I was also in the past. We all can. But in the end, if we are having to justify - then it's time to take a hard look at what's happening. I did, and it wasn't pretty. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1Zürich, Switzerland47.3768866 8.541694000000006847.204846599999996 8.2189705000000064 47.5489266 8.8644175000000072tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-81778940073737313542015-10-17T01:43:00.000-07:002015-10-17T01:43:23.872-07:00A Guy, a Tram and the Giant Baguettes<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 15.546667098999023px;">After another long day at the office, I was headed home. Since it requires a bit of a tram ride home, I was passing the time with some mindless surfing on my </span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 15.546667098999023px;">iPhone</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 15.546667098999023px;">. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">For those not familiar with tram etiquette, you simply get on the tram and sit in any seat that is available. You don’t ask for permission, nor do you acknowledge the person who happens to sit beside you. Antisocial? Perhaps, but after a long day, you sometimes appreciate not having to engage in conversation with a stranger. I have to admit however, this was difficult for the chatty Canadian within me. Initially when I moved here, I tried to engage my seatmates in conversation. It didn’t work. In short, it was unwanted. Perhaps they thought I was crazy, I don’t know. <u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">So back to the end of my very long day. The tram came up to another stop. People were getting on and off the crowded tram and I happened to glance up and notice a particular guy. He was weighed down with a bunch of groceries while also embracing the longest baguettes I have ever seen. It somehow amused me. I wondered what the story was with the cute guy in front of me, and why he dragging around half a grocery store and where he found such massive baguettes. I guess he caught me looking at him, and seized the moment to sit down beside me. My iphone once again regained my undivided attention. That was until he placed the armload of baguettes across my lap. At this moment I glanced over at my seatmate. He met my gaze with a look that I will never forget and with it his eyes pleaded with mine, “I know my baguettes are on your lap, but do you think we could just manage to live through this awkward moment? I would really appreciate it.” Amused I went back to my phone. I could feel the eyes of others on the tram trying as well to make sense of the situation. <u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">So we continued. My stop came first. As we pulled up, I signaled my seat partner that it was now time for me to leave, and that he should probably gather his baguettes. He did. No words were spoken – but somehow, that shared moment touched me. It lightened the weight of the hard day I was carrying and pulled me from the completely self-absorbed moment. I could feel the guy’s gratitude that I didn’t create a drama – both of us well aware of the ridiculousness of the situation. <u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I don`t know if there was a particular lesson from this odd experience – other than this moment made me happy in some weird way. Perhaps only that sometimes being nice can somehow make the day for everyone involved.<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-80382899984319030382015-08-15T00:13:00.000-07:002015-08-15T01:58:20.884-07:00Passion and Complacency <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I woke early this Saturday morning. Instead of embracing the luxury of being able to sleep in, my mind woke me racing with the details of my impossible to do list not to mention a bit of anxiety resulting from various uncertainties in my life. As I was laying there, I received a text from my son, "watch this," he wrote "it is insanely inspiring."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We all receive these videos. They come by on Facebook, friends and colleagues send </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">them around - I must confess, I can't be bothered to watch </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">them. Generally speaking, I think we all know deep down what we should and should not do, we do not need a stranger for that. But, since I had nothing pressing to do and a distraction was most welcome I clicked on the link. It was an interview with Elon Musk on space travel.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Damn it was inspiring.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Of course I know of this man and his achievements. Of course I respect immensely what he has achieved. The man is clearly a genius.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What I did not expect was the person who made the man. I was completely moved by his determination and passion. His willingness to pursue a passion even though he knew the odds of success were sometimes stacked significantly out of his favour. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I must admit, I had fallen into a horrible routine lately. The hurdles of life of late had distracted me from my view of the horizon. My vision had become shortsighted. No wonder I was feeling tired and uninspired. I even blamed others for this colourless position I now found myself. How boring and sad was that? How incredibly pathetic and powerless of me to base my own happiness on the actions of others. How did I fall into this state of acceptance?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For certain I could sit here and list the countless reasons on how I ended up here. However, at the end of the day it came down to a decision that I and only I could - and can make. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why would I choose to live in a way that lacks passion? Why would I let my determination waiver? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">During the interview I watched Elon openly share his passion and witness his determination. I also watched him tear up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That to me is living. I am so grateful for this reminder that I received today. Why the heck would I chose to exist in a zone of complacency and acceptance? That isn't me. But then somehow these days, it was me. Today I am done with it. I think there is more to fear from living a life devoid of passion than avoiding it. Sure passion makes us vulnerable, well, it makes me vulnerable anyway. But it also makes me feel alive, happier, lighter, more authentic - and that to me is well worth the tears along the way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>If you are curious, here is the interview to which I was referring...</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.<i>..and in keeping with the music theme...</i></span><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-87395878065102295792015-07-22T13:06:00.000-07:002015-07-23T11:59:48.100-07:00Halfway in and Halfway out<blockquote type="cite">
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I knew it was going to be difficult, but I had no idea how difficult, difficult could be. It was a Wednesday afternoon, the temperature was 4000 degrees outside, and 4001 inside. The day was as long it was hot. The only good things was that this hot day was turning out to be a beautiful, hot evening. I was looking forward to meeting some friends and enjoying it. First thing I wanted to do was get home and change. Although my nice-enough summer dress kept me as cool as it could the day long, I was ready to move on to something different – and that was exactly when the problem began.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I got stuck in it. Really. I was halfway in and halfway out with no way forward or back. As I worked to get out of my self-made jail, my teeny-tiny flat got warmer and warmer. My WhatsApp was buzzing with my friends inviting me to share the perfect evening with them. I tried to explain the situation I was in, but I think that it was so unbelievable that my friends didn’t know what to do think.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did I mention it was hot? It was so hot and the amount of gymnastics being performed to either get in or out was substantial. I needed to cool down, so into the shower I went, the perfect place to contemplate the situation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I couldn’t help but think of what a friend mentioned to me the other day. They said that a friend of theirs, after meeting me and finding out I was “still single” felt certain there was something wrong with me. As I stood in the shower halfway in and halfway out, I wondered too. It sure would be easier to have someone around to help get me out this rather awkward situation. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But alas, there I was.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Memories of the people and places long gone popped into my mind. My life could have been different, but it never felt quite right. My heart longed for something that until now, had not presented itself. I thought of my bestest friend and her one-time outburst “why do people think being single is like a disease?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Though there I was – stuck.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After cooling down, I decided I had few options. I was going to have to figure it out, or call one of my friends to assist. In the end I figured it out, though it took a while. My BFF and I giggled on the phone as I shared how my evening plans had turned out. I shared also my reflective thoughts. “Love the metaphor,” she added.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Truth is I was damn proud. It was so not easy, but I did it. As I struggled, I knew that I had friends who would hurry to my side. Today I shared the story with another of my favorite friends. “I knew that you would drop everything to come help me,” I stated. “Of course,” my other BFF said, “but not until I finished rolling on the floor with laughter for an hour or so!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know my life isn’t perfect. I also know that it isn’t the life for everyone, but as I sat there halfway in and halfway out, I knew that my friends would be there for me – whether to get me out, or share in the laughter. Frankly speaking, that is something that would happily make me give up singledom. Some people have succeeded in finding that, unfortunately, I haven’t. I could have settled for something close, but I didn’t. I am holding out. So are my BFF`s. And I cannot help but feel a bit proud of us all. Just like getting out of that damn dress, it isn’t easy, but what is in life? Are we different? I don’t know. Maybe. But I gotta say, I am pretty okay with that… </span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Still love this song, and somehow fitting for todays blog...</i></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Zurich, Switzerland47.3686498 8.539182500000038147.1966098 8.2164590000000377 47.5406898 8.8619060000000385tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-48939618615565186442015-06-05T09:18:00.001-07:002015-06-05T09:27:51.206-07:00Still here thanks to you...<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Would you believe that I just celebrated my third year anniversary here in Zurich? Before that it was two years in Austria. It is really a bit difficult to comprehend. Never in this life of mine did I long for a life that involved me leaving my family for an overseas local. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On a recent trip to Canada, a sales clerk asked me where I was from because I spoke "good English". I was mortified. "I am Canadian!" I protested a bit too loudly. In hindsight I get it. Her friendly Canadian manner was just making conversation after noticing my weird accent. I hear about it enough at home. My Canadian accent is gone. Abroad people still laugh like heck when I say "about" and the fact that I sound so Canadian. My British pal whines that I am ruining her accent. My BFF has perfected my Canadian accent so well, that everyone thinks that she is Canadian, even over me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As thoroughly Canadian as I am, it is changing. Accents, mannerisms, habits, routines - even the way I think has changed. For instance, in Canada I don't believe I ever made a meeting on time, it was deemed too keen to arrive right on schedule. Just this week I found myself apologizing for arriving 3 minutes after the scheduled meeting time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now for the 5 year look back. It has not been easy. My family has in moments suffered in their willingness to support and love me from afar. I sometimes crawl into bed missing them so much that it literally takes my breath away. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So why am I still here? Why leave the ones you love most of all? This is a question that I am often asked. It breaks my heart a little when it happens, but I understand why people ask. It is weird. Seemingly counterintuitive even. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is an answer that is so difficult to explain. I felt restless. It was a way of being most of my life. I was always searching for something. When with my son and family I felt contentment. Happiness. So there I focused my energies even more. I absorbed them. As my son pulled away in his eagerness to build his own life, I struggled. The restless feeling became more prominent. When the opportunity came up to move - they pushed me to leave. It was not I that sought it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But they were right. The restless feeling eased. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So on this third year (Zurich) anniversary, I want to thank my incredible family for being who they are - how incredibly lucky I am. I love you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I also want to thank this beautiful country for letting me call it home, and the people in it that accept and love this displaced Canadian.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>...and it seems fitting to wrap it up with this Canadian song...</i></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Zurich, Switzerland47.3686498 8.539182500000038147.1966098 8.2164590000000377 47.5406898 8.8619060000000385tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-46476275617651930882015-04-21T03:28:00.001-07:002015-04-21T03:28:11.914-07:00Chapter Two<div style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Wow! Look how long it has been since my last blog. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As with all of us, life has been busy. Fulfilling the demands of responsibilities, experiencing life and dabbling with the dramas associated with love. In the months that passed everything changed, but when you look at it in a superficial sense, nothing changed at all. I am still in Switzerland, my family in Canada, I remain single - even work remains essentially the same.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But I am not. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">One of the reasons for my blogging absence was that I needed to find my voice. The experiences that life had thrown my way of late touched me in ways that are difficult to explain. I only knew that as I sat down and placed my fingers on the keyboard that the words had ceased to flow. Just as I sought deeper relationships and connections with those that filled my days and life, I needed that deeper connection to also come out in my words. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">So here we go. A fresh chapter. I think that Nice might be the perfect setting from which to begin. Maybe with my best friend too. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But first, I want to take a moment and thank all those very special people – the ones that I love, loved and to those who also love me no matter what the day or the weather. You make this life of mine oh so much richer.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-29610467458791551402014-06-21T00:08:00.000-07:002014-06-21T00:40:18.466-07:00Choose WiselyInitially I titled this blog "wind beneath my wings". I know it sounds like another terrible cliche, but perhaps they exist for a reason. Maybe we all experience them at some point in our lives and as a such can easily relate. Let me elaborate...<br />
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Two years have passed since my arrival in Zurich. I have experienced so much, good and bad - and now I must watch someone close to me face the biggest challenge of his life. I will not speak about the challenge my friend faces as that is his story to share - not mine. Selfishly I must admit I was thrown off. I was angry at the injustice of life. I floated between acceptance and denial - the pendulum swinging to extremes. In my life, I have learned that one must be prepared to battle if necessary. But this time the enemy was not mine and I had to accept that this was not a battle I could fight. As I struggled to deal with my helplessness I was in fact even comforted by my friend and his strength.<br />
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I cannot believe how incredibly blessed I am with my family. Always there, I have felt the warmth of unconditional love and support no matter what the hurdle. Even my son encourages, inspires and supports me to the point that in moments I sometimes wonder who is actually the parent. But now let me get back to my two years here in Zurich. I have another family. My Zurich family. An eclectic blend of nationalities and backgrounds, they have become incredibly special to me. This week as I struggled with the fragile veil of composure they were there. Instantly. In essence they were indeed the wind beneath my wings this week.<br />
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The gratitude I feel for these people is enormous. As lucky as I am to have such an amazing family back home, I am also extraordinarily fortunate to have this adopted Zurich one as well.<br />
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In all my written ramblings over the years, I have refrained from offering any type of advice or specific insight - but today that is different. I say choose wisely. Someday, sometime we will unfortunately all face a challenge, so choose carefully the people you let close to you. Let the ones go who are unworthy. Decide what type of friend you want to be. Enjoy the moments, the days, the laughter. Choose the type of life you want. I have an amazing one, simply because of the company I choose to keep. <br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-23746238777676797162014-04-27T12:20:00.001-07:002014-05-04T14:52:33.787-07:00Poutine!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I introduced my friends to the infamous French Canadian POUTINE (not sure why autocorrect insists on all capitals here) last night, and despite their skepticism it was a resounding success. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Of course I could not obtain cheese curds, so we improvised with a few variations. Even the blue cheese version went over well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A combination of French fries, gravy and cheese - diets were parked at door. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then we had to move on to some salmon marinated in maple syrup and jalapeño. It is a bit fun sharing some of the taken-for-granted-Canadian-stuff with friends here.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Although I miss having all the entertaining "gear" that I had back in Canada, I am making do and enjoy cooking for friends once again. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-65808210326249199962014-04-14T14:15:00.001-07:002014-05-04T14:55:12.829-07:00At First Sight<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That is it. I am completely and totally in love. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>The first evening was spent wandering about the city <br />streets, delightfully lost. </i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have never really had a surprise trip before. Although I had some suspicions about the destination, I really did not ultimately know until I was at the gate. How is this possible in today's modern world of high security air travel? Let me just say that I did not even have to show one piece of identification from the moment I entered the airport until arriving at the hotel. Yes, apparently the hotel was more concerned about my identity than airport security, but alas that is a rant and not quite what I am in the mood for today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I arrived in Venice (not Venus as auto correct would prefer to have had me doing for some reason) and immediately fell in love. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>There was an adorable old book store, absolutely loaded with used books. Anyone who knows me is well-acquainted with my affinity for old and antique books. The wonderful staircase of books was hidden in the books store's rear courtyard and lead to a spectacular canal view. I could have spent hours there.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This little trip was good for me. As I shared before, the road has been a bit bumpy lately. I have spent much time worrying about things of which I had no control. Enjoying a moment had become difficult because I was not in it. My mind was elsewhere. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirbO4_lOT_7nbLRTSVQY0em2Ra-MOA8uXLTfYtaFg5rrH8rB9BtjFIKsrgVCHC5QRKSSYAaogZYrK_53lKIPOCi1IEiewjzy_502GBuBFm7UfwR34gMq0kt5MXeoLU43BCTFRrGDw_UqhB/s640/blogger-image--1149531088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirbO4_lOT_7nbLRTSVQY0em2Ra-MOA8uXLTfYtaFg5rrH8rB9BtjFIKsrgVCHC5QRKSSYAaogZYrK_53lKIPOCi1IEiewjzy_502GBuBFm7UfwR34gMq0kt5MXeoLU43BCTFRrGDw_UqhB/s640/blogger-image--1149531088.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Of course we had to do a tour on the black gondola. I like to call this photo "rush hour in Venice."</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeKAXGIPKvVM3Jrt34gu7bGTFnhWeEjFcMJ0MIKfqw6uDGcqFb_VfyUBia6bQ4B-tqwBucL9g-ZuNcwEbPQwr1CnVRCP2UBFLUQzcMCoY95i_4tUf7m7ilgo2p4zUPfCra62mRRjkAsstl/s640/blogger-image--1585803073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeKAXGIPKvVM3Jrt34gu7bGTFnhWeEjFcMJ0MIKfqw6uDGcqFb_VfyUBia6bQ4B-tqwBucL9g-ZuNcwEbPQwr1CnVRCP2UBFLUQzcMCoY95i_4tUf7m7ilgo2p4zUPfCra62mRRjkAsstl/s640/blogger-image--1585803073.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To cross or not to cross? Translated this sign reads "Bridge of the Devil". Guess what I did?</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TE93Qu4sg8vJQu9WcuVglymL1Y4Kj9BZImNM9rE-zJj_fv5_s_51iyGKPP69uoaBSMyayCV0i8XS824G3NTO3Y8JkrCWarxKkBJ3P6b-kDuZFpA9VZ3F4-c3NmjNNqcbzDX_Lkj-9LIe/s640/blogger-image--590688241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TE93Qu4sg8vJQu9WcuVglymL1Y4Kj9BZImNM9rE-zJj_fv5_s_51iyGKPP69uoaBSMyayCV0i8XS824G3NTO3Y8JkrCWarxKkBJ3P6b-kDuZFpA9VZ3F4-c3NmjNNqcbzDX_Lkj-9LIe/s640/blogger-image--590688241.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>How could I not fall in love with this place when waking to this view each morning of my short stay?</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhY1Sm8TwTl-_l3Y_yTD2jYtFPvGmMmRNutmD9Q6k-JlrqlkvdQSUrvG0wtVFXLZQlfM15FsrpQ_Vax1Qqm0aYv2x6cBdXMq5OoRNKQY1wkSiFPFMeTggqIeonLIA-Znr3CSzaEMAuOWYR/s640/blogger-image--186776082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhY1Sm8TwTl-_l3Y_yTD2jYtFPvGmMmRNutmD9Q6k-JlrqlkvdQSUrvG0wtVFXLZQlfM15FsrpQ_Vax1Qqm0aYv2x6cBdXMq5OoRNKQY1wkSiFPFMeTggqIeonLIA-Znr3CSzaEMAuOWYR/s640/blogger-image--186776082.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Heading under the famous Rialto bridge in the black gondola.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But then Venice happened. I found myself living only in the moment. Absorbing the history, the people, the vibe of the place - I have to admit that I even adore the sound of the language. No, it is not my first time in Italy, far from it in fact, I seem to have sort of have a thing for this country.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, to ramble on seems wrong somehow. I cannot do the affection I have for this place justice - perhaps the photos will instead :)</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfHdDg8Ls0UKPCIHbQVf5m2DZrzzSriCs6sSzAcVasyfR9Cv7H7iKeMaM_bGzTN3d-1WcJpbW40VK7M_0zVr6-HxANT-ksKKi1l0lPHiWpy3gxf3RgPAfnKwfa-6cRfIkTdfqyN8KvK-f/s640/blogger-image-1710489730.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfHdDg8Ls0UKPCIHbQVf5m2DZrzzSriCs6sSzAcVasyfR9Cv7H7iKeMaM_bGzTN3d-1WcJpbW40VK7M_0zVr6-HxANT-ksKKi1l0lPHiWpy3gxf3RgPAfnKwfa-6cRfIkTdfqyN8KvK-f/s640/blogger-image-1710489730.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>So true. I found this at the Peggy Guggenheim Museum and loved the sentiment.</i></span></td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-90028814523137213622014-03-13T10:29:00.001-07:002014-03-13T10:32:43.709-07:00Lost in Translation<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Call me childish, but the name of this place made me smile. I found it while enjoying the most amazing ski day at Flims. <div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF_nKORN0e4ctBNUYQQq-QuiRMxkuevl3135UEISnEz9C3NnSLNTi2mDo9F7a06N3_Pgxe2qOTIPAl9aThqKBDDAkserX8ENGe-EM5P-2aBavbzJ4MRN2TgykiweADClSWTcQvf2hDk5br/s640/blogger-image-539868397.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF_nKORN0e4ctBNUYQQq-QuiRMxkuevl3135UEISnEz9C3NnSLNTi2mDo9F7a06N3_Pgxe2qOTIPAl9aThqKBDDAkserX8ENGe-EM5P-2aBavbzJ4MRN2TgykiweADClSWTcQvf2hDk5br/s640/blogger-image-539868397.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-as-7CCQJNQwTgiW_i9tALdwW_nJQnevDVRlcjrpKJsPeC2VcC59ahd9IFmU6yF84q9YhfHLAVO32DBdwD5uDGBQJZ2Abfl1_Mc4D3hekEb0R7ybrLvY1r2vw5uUUr_Vg5AujAuhH5gua/s640/blogger-image-613227259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-as-7CCQJNQwTgiW_i9tALdwW_nJQnevDVRlcjrpKJsPeC2VcC59ahd9IFmU6yF84q9YhfHLAVO32DBdwD5uDGBQJZ2Abfl1_Mc4D3hekEb0R7ybrLvY1r2vw5uUUr_Vg5AujAuhH5gua/s640/blogger-image-613227259.jpg"></font></a></div><div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-84577246803676726842014-03-01T06:50:00.000-08:002014-03-01T07:08:31.047-08:00Unanticipated ChangeWednesday my BFF and I were enjoying a few laughs during our weekly wellness evening. My friend, the consummate planner was struggling with another friends insistence on keeping a visit spontaneous. It was pushing my friend completely out of her comfort zone and I must admit I enjoyed watching her struggle with it.<br />
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I have always been spontaneous. Actually more like a commitment phobic, I have spent most of my adult life deflecting efforts to organize my free time. It worked in the beginning with my friend. She just booked me in for stuff and I just sort of showed up. I didn't have to plan.<br />
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Fast forward a year later. I am to go to a dinner party at a friends house tonight. I knew this 6 days in advance. Even then I found myself having to rebook and move my schedule around to accommodate the dinner. This morning I woke up and felt restless, even though I did not have any particular plan, I was a bit anxious about knowing what time dinner was so I could plan out my day in between. <br />
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Funny.<br />
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And this week I decided to organize my own dinner party so I could expose my friends to the merits of an artery clogging poutine dinner. After mapping out schedules with my two must have people for the dinner, we ended up settling on a date in mid April.<br />
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Somehow, someway it seems that my commitment phobic ways have eased up. That sense of panic I used to feel for planning far in advance is gone. I am okay with committing to spend time with someone or something. I do not want to explore the psychology behind it all, because I am sure both you and I have better things to do than wade through all that muck. <br />
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And of course that triggered some more reflection. I thought of how punctual I have become, the result of my structured Swiss environment. I also thought of how I avoid buying things and spend more on experiential moments. After owning two cars for many years I have almost reached the two year mark of having no vehicle and travel only by public transport. I have learned to be comfortable in my own skin, literally, when I enjoy the much coveted sauna evenings. I have learned to put the credit card away and pay only with cash. I learned the incredible value of friendship from living somewhere entirely alone. The list is long. I suppose over the past 4 years I have changed a bit more than I thought. Change was not something that I set out to do on this transatlantic adventure of mine. But I did. I am not the same person I was when I left my home country.<br />
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I am so thankful for this experience. For all of it. The people, the places. I did not plan to move to Europe ever. It was not a part of my life goals. The whole thing just sort of happened before I had really absorbed the reality of it all. And in the end, I think I am better for the experience of it.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-64933511102558727042014-02-24T22:28:00.002-08:002014-02-24T22:29:51.087-08:00A Second Chance<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had a nice chat with my mother last night. She recently found my blog here and read over my Panama plane entry. Her advice was that I should read that one over every now and then. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I did.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is funny really, we face something traumatic and then life as we know it changes. But, I suppose we can slip into the rigger of routine and forget what it is like to face death in the eye but escape its grasp.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is exactly what happened to me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I forgot the elation of simply being alive. Of being able to see those I love again. To experience daily routines. To make new friends. To love, to to be hurt. Such an amazing gift it was to walk off that plane alive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I slipped a little recently. I forgot how incredibly fortunate I am to just wake up to another day. I might even have forgotten to tell some special people how incredibly important they are to me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Here is the link to the blog about the unforgettable Panama flight. <a href="https://www.blogger.com/goog_1201553531"> </a></i></span><a href="http://dawns-rant.blogspot.ch/2011/11/plane-buzzard-and-no-regrets.html">http://dawns-rant.blogspot.ch/2011/11/plane-buzzard-and-no-regrets.html</a><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-91432140926562073102014-02-23T04:55:00.001-08:002014-02-23T06:01:54.502-08:00Hockey Time!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Trust me, this statement is more true that you could possibly imagine.</i></span></td></tr>
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Last Sunday evening I was watching the Finland versus Canada hockey game with a friend. He had made the mistake of turning the game on for me while he prepared something for us to snack on. Immediately engrossed, I failed to hear anything he was uttering until the "oh my god you really are Canadian aren't you?" <br />
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Yeah. I don't know how it happens, but it does. When I was teen, my popularity soared when I started dating the lead scorer on the top local hockey team. My indirect affiliation with a budding hockey hero providing the validation necessary to enhance my social standing with my peers. Weekends I spent happily rink side cheering my then boyfriend and recounting each moment with my friends. Sadly our relationship ended when he transferred his passion from hockey to curling. Watching someone sweep ice weekend after weekend was not really my thing it seems.<br />
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Anyway, I still adore hockey. I love the live sound of skates on ice, the tension of a tight game, enjoy my beer from the plastic cup while I watch - I simply love being there. Now it is the Olympics. We are doing well this year. But as I write this I am also watching the Sweden versus Canada playoff game. Facebook was alive with people back home happily waking at 4, 5, 6 am on a Sunday to take in this game. I like that I am watching this at the same time as so many of my friends and family back home, it is a passion shared by an entire country. Hockey is the one sport, or one thing, that essentially unites our country. Winter is unbearable without it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA9juVfpuoJei_GioXnBTKNPoV6y8B-EbxtLjS8zNVYPhJxAC2oQJuQiBWV6BPY5NfFatYm-XvgplTtEqBlbfsQN0MyNTYaIXZEyo2pRjoOyszAIsmMwYhPECNXDY8gmp73lNHoWy0G_Ot/s640/blogger-image-2088156467.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA9juVfpuoJei_GioXnBTKNPoV6y8B-EbxtLjS8zNVYPhJxAC2oQJuQiBWV6BPY5NfFatYm-XvgplTtEqBlbfsQN0MyNTYaIXZEyo2pRjoOyszAIsmMwYhPECNXDY8gmp73lNHoWy0G_Ot/s200/blogger-image-2088156467.jpg" width="200" /></a>I recall the last Olympics in Vancouver. After being on the road for three months I happened to land in the middle of the Canada versus US hockey game. No one would pick me up. Grabbing the last taxis at the airport, I couldn't help but notice the roads were practically empty of cars. Canadians instead at home on the edge of their seats. Not only is hockey important, but we take particular pride when we happen to beat the US - so I really didn't stand a chance. Any self respecting Canadian would not miss such a moment.<br />
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It is kind of cool. I am an ocean away, but right now I enjoying, and sharing in a Canadian moment. <br />
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I picked this video because it is a sampling of some of the songs that you hear at a hockey game. Just listening to the mix puts me a good mood. Go Canada!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-1405712107145041502014-02-22T00:59:00.001-08:002014-02-22T00:59:55.138-08:00Another Sunny SaturdayJust spent some time updating my running playlist. This Hedley tune seems to add a little extra bounce in my stride, so I decided to share. <br />
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Happy Saturday :)<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-41299769485405090872014-02-15T01:51:00.001-08:002014-02-17T08:31:51.275-08:00A Morning Moment<div style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
I woke up feeling particularly happy today. In part because I could feel the warmth of missed sunshine upon my face along with the promise of a beautiful day. Happy text messages from back home were waiting on my phone. Another message from my BFF away on a trip but still making certain I had interesting things to fill my every spare moment. My flat filled with the smell of the beautiful bouquet of flowers that were laying on my desk when I arrived for work the day before. </div>
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And, it was also in part because of the evening before. A long, relaxed dinner eating exotic foods, the likes of which I dare not share here. Conversation that covered every subject imaginable; food, wine, our cultures, work, life, travel, family – even taxes. I have known my friend for a long time, but this was the first time we had ever talked in such detail. I still feel the glow of a good time spent.</div>
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The past few weeks have had me questioning a few of my life decisions. Pressures from a continent away. Days that challenged me to the point of numb exhaustion. I could not help but question essentially everything. The cloudy days only exasperating the doubt that lay heavy on my mind.</div>
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But today, it is different. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-56253404596117955982014-02-08T00:48:00.002-08:002014-02-08T01:52:07.473-08:00Ground Day and Sechseläuten<div style="orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4c9eteud-CoymEp9xQ41YM8q0zw7qPUOBWt16mSgPqerc2h_a1zvNgXaqM75tUfaaZsjmMI4pO0gqwFu2KfdSL26kesgt_t0ks0zvz44TQh93VqIDOaWirokFcoRfvNVfqmonkip5YZKB/s640/blogger-image-1623239423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4c9eteud-CoymEp9xQ41YM8q0zw7qPUOBWt16mSgPqerc2h_a1zvNgXaqM75tUfaaZsjmMI4pO0gqwFu2KfdSL26kesgt_t0ks0zvz44TQh93VqIDOaWirokFcoRfvNVfqmonkip5YZKB/s320/blogger-image-1623239423.jpg" width="278" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A meme came by on my Facebook feed that made me smile. I have a few friends that pass around funny ones and was about to share this particular one when I realized that there was no point. You see, it was about Groundhog Day. Yeah, every Canadian (and American) knows what I am talking about here. It is one of those things that we do not really, truly embrace as fact – but rather as some sort of assurance that indeed winter was coming to a close.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Each year Groundhog Day falls on February 2nd. How it works is someone sets up a camera outside of a groundhog hole. <span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"> If it happens to be cloudy when he exits his underground home for the day</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"> then spring</span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> will come early. If it it is sunny, the groundhog allegedly with see his shadow and retreat back into the ground then we all have to suffer through another </span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">for six more weeks of winter.</span><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-folklore_1-0" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1em; unicode-bidi: -webkit-isolate;"></sup></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fffefe;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ironically, this whole Groundhog thing was started by German immigrants in Pennsylvania. At least that is the best that I can find. Anyway, my point is that not one over here would really appreciate that meme. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fefdfd;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then I thought of Sechseläuten. I experienced it for the first time last year. This is an event that happens exclusively in the Canton of Zurich. It takes place on the "must take" route to my home so I am a participant whether I want to be or not. A big deal, the results of this event make news headlines all over the country. You see, depending on how quickly </span></span></span><span style="background-color: #fefdfd; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">the giant snowman (filled with explosives) burns is a direct indicator of how long summer will be in Switzerland. The burning takes place usually on the third Monday of April, normally following Ash Wednesday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfd;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">Although both different, the wishful thinking that lay behind for warmer weather is similar. I get them both. Fun, and a wonderful conversation </span></span><span style="line-height: 19px;">piece they are however not conversations that easily work continent to continent. I cannot imagine explaining to my colleagues about the groundhog. They would think Canadians are already a bit more strange than what they already do. And to explain to a Canadian about a firework filled snowman - well, they would think I was a bit strange too.</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, after all of that – I decided to keep the groundhog meme to myself. </span></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-33949029299152774942014-02-08T00:29:00.000-08:002014-02-08T00:29:00.565-08:00Friday Night<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friday arrived and I need to get out. The week was a long one for me. In fact one evening I was home and congratulating myself on making it through Wednesday when I realized it was just Tuesday. That day sure felt like two in one let me tell you. Therefore I didn't want to make plans as I was torn between wanting to get away to somewhere or just surviving with some modicum of humour left. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think I need one of these for my wall at home. Okay, perhaps not.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friday night arrived and I was restless. I wanted to get out. But I was particular. I wanted casual, easy conversation and a good vibe. My best pal suggested el Lokal. It was perfect. The sort of place you can just be, relax and look around. Since it is sort of a unique place here, I decided to share a few photos.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZkgT7TULmOGMQJyHRFaV-Kw4v2mHgzWBxpu0exEr9iToL8kWdVqCvENJtlYm-0q9BeFpjV7sROoXvFG5cEdu1TL7PlaNJ7-d_VmSB4269oXZvet6clQ-4SncIIBsWP3ZUXCQdgihz06u0/s640/blogger-image-863718739.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZkgT7TULmOGMQJyHRFaV-Kw4v2mHgzWBxpu0exEr9iToL8kWdVqCvENJtlYm-0q9BeFpjV7sROoXvFG5cEdu1TL7PlaNJ7-d_VmSB4269oXZvet6clQ-4SncIIBsWP3ZUXCQdgihz06u0/s640/blogger-image-863718739.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This guy is hanging off the ceiling. He sort of looked exactly how my week felt :)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you run out of conversation </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(okay, that never happens to me) <br />there is plenty of useful stuff around </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Canada! Yeah. A bit pathetic, but hey...</span></td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Zurich, Switzerland47.3686498 8.539182500000038147.1966098 8.2164590000000377 47.5406898 8.8619060000000385tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-33249506224900619162014-02-06T03:06:00.001-08:002014-02-06T03:06:18.071-08:00HomeHmm... A lot of truth to these words. <div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZqwvOUJE6vp_6ztBRUHlhN1lPpauDYRZ0KpMsxwAMQFRqmXSR0ZX5f1xj5acruTrr4uj5OGHgYOIO1n1Bu4fv_7MxeIx8r7Ykd8zWIECQrAsQRAvTBCQA2U9iXrelyfLRa1kQjweaS8_b/s640/blogger-image--47303911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZqwvOUJE6vp_6ztBRUHlhN1lPpauDYRZ0KpMsxwAMQFRqmXSR0ZX5f1xj5acruTrr4uj5OGHgYOIO1n1Bu4fv_7MxeIx8r7Ykd8zWIECQrAsQRAvTBCQA2U9iXrelyfLRa1kQjweaS8_b/s640/blogger-image--47303911.jpg"></a></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-6801657235298267722014-01-30T08:50:00.001-08:002014-01-31T00:47:41.168-08:00Another Cute Super Bowl AdI admit, I am a complete sap, a closet romantic, a lover of happy endings - and puppies :) This made me feel all warm inside when I watched it so I had to share…<br>
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<br>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-32005523982563257992014-01-29T10:59:00.000-08:002014-01-29T13:08:59.431-08:00Last Day and no Shades of Grey<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By the end of the trip there we had pretty much <br />conquered every part of the ski area. This area was by <br />far our favourite and we were nearly alone there too. <br />Check out that view!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And so came the end of our girls ski holiday. The last day was nothing short of magnificent. The sky boasted various shades of bright blue, and the fresh powder that fell the night before made for an 'epic' ski day (tis Canadian ski day lingo). Bluebird is another term we use to describe this sort of day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We shared a lot of laughs, often at our own expense. On the way back we reminised about some of the most amusing moments.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of the more amusing things for me was to witness Claudia explain to the many hotel guests that "of course we had a suite, as we were not a couple or anything." In all fairness the breakfast room was rather populated with a generous representation of men ready to take on the infamous "white ring."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Overall our trip went without one hiccup. That was until the ride home. After a day of skiing and evening sauna we opted for the late train home. Snacking on our Austrian treats we recapped the highlights. It wasn't before long that we noticed we were in Bregenz, instead of heading to Zurich. We stopped a fellow who was working on the train and asked what was going on. Certain all was okay, we were convinced the guy was merely joking when he said we were in the wrong part of the train when it separated. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So we disembarked and made our way to the closest bar and ordered a wine. Claudia grabbed every schedule she could find while I enjoyed the fact that a plan of hers had not panned out the way expected (I am not trusted to make plans you see). In the end the train came. Our luggage was heavy. Mine particularly so with my Stroh's stash, ski boots, and the million clothes I brought but never bothered to wear. I also had a ski bag on my shoulder. A security guard came to my rescue and insisted he load my suitcase in the train for me. The best part was when he couldn't do it and I had to rescue him instead. Laughing until we cried we made our way to the restaurant car. As we enjoyed the Swiss landscape from the window I teased Claudia about the fact her flat did not have an elevator. The joke was on me when I can home to discover that my elevator was out of service. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I loved this sign. Sausage and beer breakfast. I found it at one of the many 'huts' in the area.That is something that you would NEVER see in Canada! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Although our plan to read a million books was thwarted by the fatigue of long, but awesome ski days and our evenings out often ended before they began with lights out at 22:30, we still feel like we did it all. We made some new friends, we learned to ski better and even more importantly, two friends actually enjoyed each others company until the very end! Woot!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy61QwLyQT1YNB02WHLkgYv6EeFHNC7LJ0TyO3fBMyRzCqMZTgS_ixoeCRJ1DuIG8Mmx3jcmF3GiBmZ7IZ_DHehGmMbhbQAD3VbQae7kUZvjyqhw79kEzvEIzgYliiiGIss9Rim0vYrrhc/s640/blogger-image--1010275543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy61QwLyQT1YNB02WHLkgYv6EeFHNC7LJ0TyO3fBMyRzCqMZTgS_ixoeCRJ1DuIG8Mmx3jcmF3GiBmZ7IZ_DHehGmMbhbQAD3VbQae7kUZvjyqhw79kEzvEIzgYliiiGIss9Rim0vYrrhc/s320/blogger-image--1010275543.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Look, I know what to do with my poles now! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seems my ski lessons paid off :)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy Me :) I am not sure why, but skiing makes me happy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am not the best skier by an stretch of the imagination, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but once I am on the hill the stress of life is a distant memory.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We paused to enjoy the sun while I took a couple of work calls. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I loved my new office!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stroh's and hot chocolate! I fell in love. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Claudia was emphatic that my skiing improved with each one :)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Apres ski? When in Rome as they say… I am not sure if the photo is blurry or we were!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We absolutely loved our stay at das Georg and plan to return soon.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The problem with the ski huts is that space is at an absolute premium, <br />so you make new friends with each hot chocolate whether you wish to or not! <br />I was the only one without sunglasses and completely blinded.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The consummate planner, I never have to bother with the where/when as Claudia likes to have all that under control. However, when our train separated and we ended up spending a late night in Bregenz instead of home in Zurich she simply could not get her hands on enough train schedules to mull </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">over with her wine</span></td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Zurich, Switzerland47.3686498 8.539182500000038147.1966098 8.2164590000000377 47.5406898 8.8619060000000385tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-45914755169852274442014-01-23T11:12:00.001-08:002014-01-24T01:19:56.031-08:00Snow SurfingAnd so it continues...<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAHuG9E2SjB2mSPDkPhexyk4wimUhyCHiwx9puZsXavK0dk91U2amZfih61nvlUhzlTZHLagqb8WU6GoZZL9cFCzVv1fBi7mQZgXF-lEgraTX12KavifoqcoEquOZBorPHb2QYjGnzMPR0/s640/blogger-image--2146268695.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAHuG9E2SjB2mSPDkPhexyk4wimUhyCHiwx9puZsXavK0dk91U2amZfih61nvlUhzlTZHLagqb8WU6GoZZL9cFCzVv1fBi7mQZgXF-lEgraTX12KavifoqcoEquOZBorPHb2QYjGnzMPR0/s640/blogger-image--2146268695.jpg"></a></div><br>
Claudia and I got completely lost on this vast web of mountainous terrain until a ski instructor decided to crash our little map assessment party. He decided to take control of the situation, and to be honest, we were not so displeased with that. When he offered to ski with us - we were not unhappy with that either. The light was flat and our visibility and depth perception were low. However, when he insisted that we ski on one ski, I was a bit skeptical. Had he not been wearing the official ski instructor jacket, we would have (I hope) been more concerned. He insisted after a preliminary run assessment that this would be be great practice for us - that following this we would ace the two ski situation with little difficulty. <br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqhGDVn93o1L90kzzbLHh1myKOL8ynGJxyAAiH2-z1pQKxrSh6w0xN64ufdsekFEvJGLWk7tPkGA76qseC1ts3OPNTRJvfLFfmPeGZSh9fG-35ZeGzfn_kBq7VKXWHF69kgnUs9L3eWymO/s640/blogger-image--2055581896.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqhGDVn93o1L90kzzbLHh1myKOL8ynGJxyAAiH2-z1pQKxrSh6w0xN64ufdsekFEvJGLWk7tPkGA76qseC1ts3OPNTRJvfLFfmPeGZSh9fG-35ZeGzfn_kBq7VKXWHF69kgnUs9L3eWymO/s640/blogger-image--2055581896.jpg"></a></div><i>(Note the one leg)</i></div><br>
I could not help but glance around and check to see if there was some hidden camera guy - certain we would end up on late night tv somewhere in the world. But, whatever, you only live once - right? So our new friend Stephan took us down the slope on one ski. And I must confirm, after that whole scenario - two skis feels like a walk in the park in comparison. <br>
<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgElOfVVZT_s_-t3Hot7MqZdTciANduSMRwWBrh0m0SG4OrQ1NG_EoSjKyj0t3_OfosTMeNKUDMRMLCsnbNu_2OkYbhGoV9jzxVpgxkceXjCJU3wq4jaUHMhZCk0xyUjH9I782TAziRZiwN/s640/blogger-image-223965457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgElOfVVZT_s_-t3Hot7MqZdTciANduSMRwWBrh0m0SG4OrQ1NG_EoSjKyj0t3_OfosTMeNKUDMRMLCsnbNu_2OkYbhGoV9jzxVpgxkceXjCJU3wq4jaUHMhZCk0xyUjH9I782TAziRZiwN/s640/blogger-image-223965457.jpg"></a></div>(<i>Note Mr Ski Instructor laughing - likely because he actually succeeded in talking us into skiing on one ski...) </i><div><br></div><div>
In the end, Stephan became our new pal, and he gave us some invaluable ski tips. I know absolutely that following my time here in t Lech I will be an infinitely better skier than when I arrived. So will Claudia. It also reinforced the importance of being open to new situations and experiences.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaFP1gcjPVM041j0vZsQdBrbFC9cmKqHqhBd9-1fWuxLHWE3RpqfOAIHo-C-NMhyphenhyphenuWsiHlWgpOcGbLCs5k1YQ7NRihORj1rn82HZH7pmFeGr3aLH4r9eo39MokSTF07XydQesVr6VpanVx/s640/blogger-image-591339865.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaFP1gcjPVM041j0vZsQdBrbFC9cmKqHqhBd9-1fWuxLHWE3RpqfOAIHo-C-NMhyphenhyphenuWsiHlWgpOcGbLCs5k1YQ7NRihORj1rn82HZH7pmFeGr3aLH4r9eo39MokSTF07XydQesVr6VpanVx/s640/blogger-image-591339865.jpg"></i></a></div></div><i>(And no, we have no clue where he came from, he decided simply to grab a </i><i>photo op. I thought it turned out funny and was worth sharing anyway.)</i></div><br>
As we wrapped up a successful, albeit, challenging ski day with a little glühwien, the smiles continued...</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHmkWQ3oaahfNJrLmaLjjuycHM1kXNPpL1SW98030O-SbY0la0GsnmsAHcrN57BVljAwCh7WD1ZEDWrK6zxkB-JrXOQulAckqFKge1ufxKcJ_0guyHiYMyESZgK5YAeN72L0222LDBvmbW/s640/blogger-image-1945313772.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHmkWQ3oaahfNJrLmaLjjuycHM1kXNPpL1SW98030O-SbY0la0GsnmsAHcrN57BVljAwCh7WD1ZEDWrK6zxkB-JrXOQulAckqFKge1ufxKcJ_0guyHiYMyESZgK5YAeN72L0222LDBvmbW/s640/blogger-image-1945313772.jpg"></a></div><br>
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<br></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Lech Lech47.206056 10.141706tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-26485132438420944802014-01-21T11:38:00.002-08:002014-01-21T11:55:50.522-08:00The White RingI must admit, I barely have the energy to think this evening - never mind write because of what is known as a "white ring". Furthermore, I must confess that last sentence was all that I could muster energy wise as it is now 24 hours after the "white ring" and I have now nearly full enough faculties to carry on.<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpl8p3ZPp9Bt-hPRWps-8F4-DmFtOgM-DvZ2VuSMQaQgcNOMIbRmzEGIXNuoMtkXxjSIovBHT8QhJuqSUc7Xuw69kCjp0VX-xQQ1b7k7ZgA6cVn5TSKFPQflA6URobYqLCHHUDUIKZTMRG/s640/blogger-image-1057341520.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpl8p3ZPp9Bt-hPRWps-8F4-DmFtOgM-DvZ2VuSMQaQgcNOMIbRmzEGIXNuoMtkXxjSIovBHT8QhJuqSUc7Xuw69kCjp0VX-xQQ1b7k7ZgA6cVn5TSKFPQflA6URobYqLCHHUDUIKZTMRG/s640/blogger-image-1057341520.jpg"></a></div><br>
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So now you must be wondering what he heck is a "white ring" anyway.<br>
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Did she get some sort incurable skin disease? Does she have a goggle tan line? Is it a new Tolkien movie?<br>
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Easily summarized like this, you are skiing all over the frigging place. Village to village, I honestly have no clue where we went. People come from all over the place to tackle this thing. It is even home too what I am told is the worlds longest ski race. <br>
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(More on the white ring here <a href="http://www.derweissering.at/HD/index_en.php">http://www.derweissering.at/HD/index_en.php</a>). <br><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJzzg60n39qfT5yv47jU93Saw8m2zQs2IdkT8m6v9dNRkSJ_6qK4XzagCyDB3-k9s9S_KV0zKSRtB4zbJoxOJU23nzZSFX95UhMVXJsDy4B-cPUox-eDGzV_ApduarQq-ATCIEgFKmsH3U/s640/blogger-image--1672252299.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJzzg60n39qfT5yv47jU93Saw8m2zQs2IdkT8m6v9dNRkSJ_6qK4XzagCyDB3-k9s9S_KV0zKSRtB4zbJoxOJU23nzZSFX95UhMVXJsDy4B-cPUox-eDGzV_ApduarQq-ATCIEgFKmsH3U/s640/blogger-image--1672252299.jpg"></a></div><br>
It began with our 'house mom' recommending a ski instructor. Erich. What we found out when we met him is that he has skied with the likes of Hollywood stars including the likes of names like Nicole Kidman and is even a ski pal of Princess Caroline as well as godfather to one of her children. So this made Claudia and I competitive. I mean if delicate royalty and Hollywood could keep up with Erich, then we could - no? We dutifully attempted whatever Erich threw our way. Claudia infinitely more graceful than I, but what I lacked in grace I made up for with enthusiastic whoohoos, and a bit of uncoordinated speed down the hill. Both Claudia and I tried to cheat on occasion with poor form when Eric had his back turned - but he could literally hear it!<br><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-T8j0inWB6NiErY-opfe9ksmCYcx-o_cF6MHzciSx8ALLZOiK8Q6RMXS76eKbd3hNoRRG6Dl4984KsRpyvaIpzH3sXncXP0vD2cYP8kmhu2F2OrsbMukcI-Nho3_EUX6ssDZqe3Ghejq/s640/blogger-image-2065743390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-T8j0inWB6NiErY-opfe9ksmCYcx-o_cF6MHzciSx8ALLZOiK8Q6RMXS76eKbd3hNoRRG6Dl4984KsRpyvaIpzH3sXncXP0vD2cYP8kmhu2F2OrsbMukcI-Nho3_EUX6ssDZqe3Ghejq/s640/blogger-image-2065743390.jpg"></a></div><br>
When the ski day finally concluded, we took in a little après ski at Hotel Krone and prepared to warm up for the birthday celebration (it was mine) that lay ahead. We did well. Two glasses of glühwien, a sauna, and the birthday celebration ended up with two fatigued females in bed by 22:00. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvl6BrTdDnpDCZM0aBctLqeEYW9A4k3Yf_o-E4_UaMtN52l5-4hOt_f2wlZU71gvMUfbt0P3XshI0-p1ZSgJ0twGGkmrZmHx-X7US547GVvpcsTcjzsZRw28mTF7tZnG8vyMS46MLXvDX/s640/blogger-image-1039386812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvl6BrTdDnpDCZM0aBctLqeEYW9A4k3Yf_o-E4_UaMtN52l5-4hOt_f2wlZU71gvMUfbt0P3XshI0-p1ZSgJ0twGGkmrZmHx-X7US547GVvpcsTcjzsZRw28mTF7tZnG8vyMS46MLXvDX/s640/blogger-image-1039386812.jpg"></a></div></div><div><div><br></div><div>But, in the end, we survived the white ring...<br>
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<br></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Lech Lech47.209161 10.140447tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6013865827301905017.post-60282783248638488982014-01-19T08:12:00.001-08:002014-01-19T10:33:37.696-08:00Après to Ski - Day 2IWell, I have to admit - après ski Austrian style is tough to beat. White Night was indeed worth going out to check out. <div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiY-LmTgvpSIZmjKK-96W7NVZcWdEsALD_O_bn5UHsHz7L1lO0-OfgGyw6EBjMxES1PYw8ZjlLrHYY_X_61auP-8RmAOUUCH78jfgzFX6CvKF-cMD3edW2oi7Obh3LwdVJD3xvqUozuAmX/s640/blogger-image-1575360502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiY-LmTgvpSIZmjKK-96W7NVZcWdEsALD_O_bn5UHsHz7L1lO0-OfgGyw6EBjMxES1PYw8ZjlLrHYY_X_61auP-8RmAOUUCH78jfgzFX6CvKF-cMD3edW2oi7Obh3LwdVJD3xvqUozuAmX/s640/blogger-image-1575360502.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div><div>After a late start to our evening we ended up finding the most crowded, hopping bar with the most eclectic assortment of people you could possibly imagine. We were actually just looking for a place to have a tea - but we ended up revising our plans. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi01NeJe-za3v_KuK9of82lRA4oibIRYA0xRmmBV1jJwvvPP3CdP7cc1jy1iA_qsmmpCcRI5MccOuCKbcwKBx4zD7uC6V-QTxrI4OsWEsV4bHwNc449DLfqmDngSTT6nOxFgH6tVkV__kGc/s640/blogger-image--1769386240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi01NeJe-za3v_KuK9of82lRA4oibIRYA0xRmmBV1jJwvvPP3CdP7cc1jy1iA_qsmmpCcRI5MccOuCKbcwKBx4zD7uC6V-QTxrI4OsWEsV4bHwNc449DLfqmDngSTT6nOxFgH6tVkV__kGc/s640/blogger-image--1769386240.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9rhUlpls3zMDkuwQuFuE9KdA4eoP9wwqxsknhrM0q-Gl1jFYxwkeYH32bxIeFK41tC-a4tNGB9nXuaYtGgHXPilcKTjIGlp4VtKQXIcWlAOX7uMVa1oMJ7veiEzM848NcwWMtx4rJTTtA/s640/blogger-image--751896284.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9rhUlpls3zMDkuwQuFuE9KdA4eoP9wwqxsknhrM0q-Gl1jFYxwkeYH32bxIeFK41tC-a4tNGB9nXuaYtGgHXPilcKTjIGlp4VtKQXIcWlAOX7uMVa1oMJ7veiEzM848NcwWMtx4rJTTtA/s640/blogger-image--751896284.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Anyway, we had a bit of a late start but enjoyed the sunny sping ski type weather. Overall we have been a bit overwhelmed by the level of service and effort everyone seems to put forth to make our stay a nice one. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicq-C2b_UlDm9KSig8SEsSDhBBmcAxHTLUYgJyi6vJTQQutxHg_qanKbZtpo0ScQ5252VEQPUpCQY8asvUna3KQJJ-IoUuRWKecbafFV0xwcqgs0k0x8RGqJA0jBbATtaM5FXfdXVPQ-vV/s640/blogger-image--799093693.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicq-C2b_UlDm9KSig8SEsSDhBBmcAxHTLUYgJyi6vJTQQutxHg_qanKbZtpo0ScQ5252VEQPUpCQY8asvUna3KQJJ-IoUuRWKecbafFV0xwcqgs0k0x8RGqJA0jBbATtaM5FXfdXVPQ-vV/s640/blogger-image--799093693.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>At last run we opted to stop in for a bit of time at the ice bar. Not so much ice, but the dj was great. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8MkCqVksEmgkDhvc2Fzr7BIcyC3uC5tzImoxwbwLycIh_7kFfTZPx4JSYerAXb5C2an3jW3vxGmw0SV_RTwj7McVLuFGs2OnTlKnVrbbJGV-tzm6Nr1UftxnqhxNxjADg-u3xeXhzYYGP/s640/blogger-image--1851432191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8MkCqVksEmgkDhvc2Fzr7BIcyC3uC5tzImoxwbwLycIh_7kFfTZPx4JSYerAXb5C2an3jW3vxGmw0SV_RTwj7McVLuFGs2OnTlKnVrbbJGV-tzm6Nr1UftxnqhxNxjADg-u3xeXhzYYGP/s640/blogger-image--1851432191.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Yes we are dancing in a reclined position. We were conserving energy for the run back to our hotel. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoLVCACUYFCOsrI-ucjdFZoQlx5um4y3JVDM9W6bdFQRylfsoe5VVm4ZjKQOcNbZflCoXt8UnhaNzTCX_IpUGsQruzb_XmAsgwPxTp8KVd8dD3F0KlkAV0y6EghE6Z9B8hcmo20bqwEkk2/s640/blogger-image-732609417.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoLVCACUYFCOsrI-ucjdFZoQlx5um4y3JVDM9W6bdFQRylfsoe5VVm4ZjKQOcNbZflCoXt8UnhaNzTCX_IpUGsQruzb_XmAsgwPxTp8KVd8dD3F0KlkAV0y6EghE6Z9B8hcmo20bqwEkk2/s640/blogger-image-732609417.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">...and now it is sauna time! </div><br></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Lech Lech47.2061 10.141694