Six Weeks of Silence

Well, that's not entirely true.  But, I am heading off to my 6-week Spanish immersion summer program, where I have signed a pledge stating, "I agree to use Spanish as my only language of communication while attending Middlebury Language Schools.  I understand that failure to comply with this Pledge may result in my expulsion from the School without credit or refund."

So that's some pretty serious stuff.  I don't really think that they would appreciate me keeping up with my English blog while I'm there, so I have decided to do something a bit different.

Welcome to DNortonLand's 6-week Spanish vocab review!

For the next six weeks, there will be a lot of espanol in this blog.  And a lot of pictures.  And not much English.  (The English that will be on the blog will be translated into Spanish--and we're totally down with the Spanglish here in DNortonLand).  One day, you might learn a new phrase (some of them might even be a little, um, colorful, shall we say?), but generally, I will try to post a picture, and maybe a paragraph in Spanish translated into English.

So let's begin!

Seis semanas de silencio comienzan... ahora!  (Six weeks of silence begins...now!)

En serio...Callate!  (Seriously, be quiet!)

DNortonLand (Part II)

Today I burnt the waffles.  This is one of the negative side effects of such a wonderfully imaginary world as DNortonLand: it sometimes proves too distracting to complete everyday activities.

In nearly burning the house down today, I am reminded of a time long ago when DNortonLand distracted me from another burning appliance: the toaster.

8-year-old me popped some bread in the toaster for breakfast, then promptly sat down at the kitchen table to read the funnies, or maybe a book.  Regardless, it was very engrossing.  So engrossing, in fact, that when the toaster's pop-up mechanism failed, and my toast started burning, and flames and smoke starting spewing out, creeping ever higher until they almost reached our wooden cabinets, I was completely oblivious.

Luckily, my mother noticed the acrid scent of smoke wafting through the house, and raced into the kitchen to heroically douse the flames in the kitchen sink (after unplugging the appliance, of course!)

And today, my father noticed the intense, burnt waffle-y scent permeating the air and raced to the kitchen to save the day.

They actually don't look too bad in this picture.

But compare them to what they are supposed to look like:

And there you go.  Burnt waffles. Delicious.

Sadly, the real victim of my oblivion is the dogs.  See, our waffle maker won't stay latched shut, so it doesn't cook evenly.  And in order to keep the top down, I set the heavy jar of dog peanut butter (the stuff we use to coat their pills) on top.  And its plastic kind of melted on one side.  So now we have the  Leaning Tower of Peanut Butter.

Ahhh, DNortonLand, you are a perilous place for an innocent jar of peanut butter.

The Pillars of the Earth

Only one of my most favorite books ever.  I can read it again and again (and I have).  It's actually my idea of the perfect novel: sweeping in scope, with intrigue, war, passion and heartache.  Historical, fictional, and just plain good.

I normally don't like to see my favorite books made into shows, so discovering that this delightful story was soon to be an 8 part miniseries (airing on Starz in July) was a little sad.  But then I realized that the 1300-page count is a little off-putting to some people, so it's probably not a bad thing.  And maybe it will encourage them to go read the book!  (It reads like something half its length, I swear!)

Plus, the cast includes Ian McShane and Rufus Sewell.  'Nuff said.

Finally, I really like that this book is a complete departure from the rest of Follett's work, and yet it's the one that he's best known for.

My current favorite song

About every 3 months, I have a new favorite song.  I'll play it over and over again until most people are sick of it, and then I keep playing it, because I like it just that much.

For instance, freshman year of college, my favorite song was "Escapar" by Enrique Iglesias.  (Note that it's the Spanish version, not the English version: "Escape")  To this day it is still one of the most played songs in my iTunes, and I haven't really listened to it much since then.  Also to this day, if I hear the English version of the song playing, I will start singing along...in Spanish...  So that should give you some idea of what we're dealing with here.

But my current favorite song is this one:  In My Head by Jason Derulo.  I might have listened to it on repeat this past weekend.  And several times during the week.  And then just now as I was writing this post.

Montblanc Meisterstuck

My favorite pen in the world--simple and elegant, with a refinement beyond measure.  I have one, and I am deathly terrified that someday I will misplace it, and then my entire life will be devoid of meaning.  

I don't know where my Montblanc Meisterstuck came from, but Mom and I think it was maybe my grandfather's, and it somehow came to us after his death.  I only know that I found it one day this past winter, amid the oodles of writing utensils scattered about my (now defunct) creativity room.  As Dumbledore says, "The wand chooses the wizard," and this one very clearly chose me. Well, first it chose Grandpa, but then it chose me.  

I am currently using it to write my letters for my letter project (which are coming along quite splendidly), but it ran out of ink on Monday.  Since I went to Chicago on Tuesday, I just stocked up on refills at the Montblanc store on North Michigan Avenue (where the salesman was very nice and didn't try to sell me something I couldn't afford, like a new Montblanc pen, or one of their pretty leather briefcases.  Of course, this was after I informed him that I am but a poor and lowly student, and the fact that I had no money to spend might have dampened his sales pitch).  

If the pen was indeed my grandfather's (and I'm 99% sure that it was), it really makes it that much more special.  It's not just a pen, but one that was meant to be passed on, from generation to generation.  

Quality.  It's good stuff.  

Summer Reading

I love summer reading lists.  Being the principal's kid, I always had my summer reading done in July, with plenty of time to spare.  Sometimes, I even read *gasp* MORE than the required reading. 

College, sadly, required no summer reading of me.  Of course, that doesn't mean I completely let my brain go to mush.  I recall the summer before my sophomore year, when I was facing a semester of reading "The Classical Roots of Western Literature" that I forced myself to read Herodotus and the Aeneid, among others, in a failed attempt to get ahead. 

And in the summer of 2008, when I headed off for my 3-week research trip to Madrid, my crew coach gave me this book, which I quite enjoyed.  Spain through an outsider's perspective.  Sounds like something an outsider would be very interested in, right?  I found it particularly enlightening, because, although I knew a bit more than your average foreigner about some parts of Spain (ie: Madrid and Andalucia), I really know nothing about Galicia, Catalonia, and the Basque Country, Valencia, Extremadura, Murcia, and pretty much any place that wasn't Madrid or Andalucia. 

This is my mandatory pre-departure reading for NYU in Madrid.  Well, one of three mandatory readings.  Fortunately, I've already read it.  Unfortunately (or not, depending on your point of view), I'll be reading it again. 

More Ha Long Bay!

This is my new favorite place in the world.  

Two "mountains" in Ha Long Bay at low tide.  Can you see how much they have eroded at the base?

Ha Long Bay!

Mountains + Water = AWESOME!

Especially when combined with a pretty boat!

A pagoda atop a mountain.  Because that's where pagodas go, natch.

It kind of felt like we were in Pirates of the Caribbean, overlooking some strange foreign port.  And it didn't help that there was this misty fog shrouding all of the mountains in the distance.

And of course, because I can't let you go without more pictures of the PB (Pretty Boat):

And this might look like a normal hotel room, but let's remember...we're. on. a. boat!  The only thing this room is lacking is the flippy-floppies.  (You can see the nautical-themed pashmina afghan casually thrown over the front bed...actually, wait, that's silk).

You might not think a bathroom is particularly special, but when compared to the ones we had been in (which weren't terrible, but still...), this is one of the prettiest things I've ever seen.

Boats!

Being from Kansas officially makes me a landlubber.  But the Mekong Delta is full of boats!  Including this paper one that one of Liz's friends, Nhan, taught me how to make and sail.  

That's me.  Sailing my landlubber boat.  The stiff breeze definitely helps.

When I say that the Mekong Delta is full of boats, I mean it.  This junk boat was on display at the Vietnam Museum of Ethnology.  This boat holds 26 people... or is it 52?  There are too many oars for me to keep them straight.  But if I remember correctly, it's got 1 person per oar (so that's 2 per bench), and you can try counting the oars yourself.  Apparently, they still have races in these boats every year at some village festivals.   As a rower, the thought makes my head hurt.  

And, of course, no boat post would be complete without a mention of our BE-A-U-TIFUL boat in Ha Long Bay.  Bamboo wicker deck furniture and lush greenery abounded, along with teak and silk decor.

It only held 4 passengers and 6 crew, and it was the best boat ever.  I want to go back, just so I can spend more time on my pretty boat.  

But of course, before our trip to Ha Long Bay was complete, we had to swap boats.  Above is the view of our pretty boat from the not-so-pretty boat.  

Come back, Pretty Boat!  Come back!!!  Take me with you!!

I guess the not-so-pretty boat was ok.  You can see it in the background of this picture.  But here, we get to ride in a bamboo boat.  Again, as a rower, even thinking about moving a boat in this way makes my head hurt. (Not to mention my back, shoulders, and upper arms)

And this is the rigger for that adorable little bamboo boat that took us into the pretty little cove which you haven't seen.  A rigger.  Made of rope.  I just...I'm speechless.

Pretty Flowers

The best part about the tropics: when you can find the pretty flowers, they have such vibrant colors.  I don't even know what kind of flowers these are, but I want them.

The above was taken near the Ho Chi Minh City City Hall (I think).

This one and the one below were taken at the Royal Palace Museum in Luang Prabang, Laos.

The next two were taken on the road trip to Phonsavan, Laos, to see the Plain of Jars.

And, of course, no post is complete without a picture of some monks:

Taken in Luang Prabang, Laos.  Aren't the colors so pretty?

Sunrise over the Mekong River

In Can Tho, we went to a floating market, which is where most local restaurants purchase their food for the day.  Of course, this means that they are purchasing their food really, really early in the morning.  But that's okay, because that means that I got to take some pretty cool pictures.  

Like this one, of the sunrise over the Mekong River.

Or this one, of the classic style of self-propelled boats.  As a rower, I'm not sure how these boats get anywhere.

Or this picture of some of the houses which abut the river.

Or this picture of people fishing.  They are bouncing up and down on those poles to get the net out of the water.

And of course, the floating market looks something like this:

Them's pineapples on that boat.  And hanging from this pole:

The produce hanging from the pole lets you know just what that boat is selling.  

Just a few more sights from the Mekong Delta. 

more books

Finished this one a few nights ago. And by finished, I mean started and finished. I'm kind of getting a little tired of all the vampires floating around American pop culture, but not so tired of them that I won't keep reading the Sookie Stackhouse series (by Charlaine Harris). It's a fun, light series and Harris' writing reads quickly and easily. And when it comes to pop culture fiction, I search for books that I will devour.

The one thing that confuses me is the "Never Before Published" typed underneath the author's name. It's June 2010. The book was copyrighted/released in May 2010. It's a brand-new book! When on earth would it have been published otherwise?

I won't make all my posts about books. But since I'm home and not having exciting traveling adventures, it's all I've got.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (TGLaPPPS)

Some books, I finish and never look at again. Some books (recently), I haven't even finished. Some books, I finish and flip back to reread my favorite parts. Rarely, very rarely, do I finish a book and immediately flip back to page 1. TGLaPPPS was one of the latter books (which, in my opinion, is a pretty high recommendation...just sayin').

My mother has been trying to get me to read this book for a few years. But the title was weird and she'd told me that it was structured in letter form, so I balked. I just haven't had good experiences reading any books that weren't structured in a nice, simple chapter format. Anything involving diaries, entries, or even letters just doesn't normally hold my attention very well.

TGLaPPPS, however, captured my attention, with vibrant characters and a powerful story. And it all happened through various (fictional) letters and telegrams. So, if you want a sort of light summer read, you should click on the link.

More elephant

This is how I roll.

Me and my journal. Chillin' on the nicest boat in Ha Long Bay. Because that's how I roll.

Photo courtesy of Liz.

I filled this book full.

Just an example of how much I wrote on this trip. An entire journal--done. Right down to the very last page. Also written: 5 letters, 22 postcards, and all those long blog posts. You'd think I'd be tired of words by now.

Photo courtesy of Liz.

Cooking class!

So when we were in Laos, we took a cooking class, led by a guy, Phia, who was a pretty amazing chef. Unfortunately, even though he was telling us what he was doing in English, he was really difficult to understand (in an unintentionally hilarious sort of way). Liz ended up translating what he was saying for half the class, which was awfully nice of her.


Phia and a banana flower.

Spices at the market. look at all them chiles.


thumbs-up for good food!


Me mincing chicken. according to all SE asian cooks that I have seen (2), to mince chicken, you just whack at it with a knife. This goes against everything that I ever learned about knife safety in Girl Scouts. Hence, the terrified look on my face.





Our finished product:

The Puppy Next Door

So the neighbors got a puppy, and she's really cute, so I wanted to take some pictures of her. But puppies (especially very active puppies who haven't had all of their hyper run out of them yet) are awfully hard to photograph sometimes. All that action doesn't really photograph well.





And yet:



Doesn't she look like the sweetest little angel you ever wanted to just pick up and cuddle?





Why so serious puppy?

Temples in the Rain and Japanese Feast!

Rain + Temples = Cool Pictures!


At Narita Shinsho-Ji Temple Complex. I might have cheated when taking this picture because I shot it through a place where the rain was really falling off the roof in big drops.


Same Temple, different angle.


Miso Soup!


Sushi!! Don't eat the sea urchin!