Working together

It's about the people no doubt... but

... I miss Sierra Leone.
I love my job here and although my kids are a motley crew of creative unruly animals a lot of the time, I love them so much and beam at seeing them progress and evolve right before my eyes. I'm so lucky to have made good friends; inspiring people that make an effort to not let negativity rule their lives.

Yet I look at pics from Salone and glorify the black skin, the white teeth. the heat, the beat. A primal something I can't quite put my finger on.... I think I need a change of scenery, even if for a few weeks.
Happy Tesday y'all!

Keenan

KEEEEEENAAAAN!
Preeeeeeeeehsent, he says, in his quite posh and polished English accent. Keenan is definitely coming into himself. He joined the class late October. He was stuck up and very much a goodie goodie. Now he dances all around the class (he has some ratha good dance moves, I must say), farts openly and laughs (gross) and generally has a grand old time.
I use a BBC Kids  website for science stuff sometimes. The lady voice is very posh. She sounds like a female Keenan. It's funny.
Although I'm too excited to go home I will miss these little guys. so much

my bad

I went to sleep with a feeling of unfinished business. ok lessons are ready, kids know their christmas songs, lunch is packed, indigestion meds taken, half baked idea about what to wear tomorrow... what can it be? AH- my photo a day!
oooops.
here is another photo of my precocious student, Jean Baptiste. Happy weekend everyone. I will edit some photos, go to a craft fair, make a desert, go to a party, take photos for my friend's website, and buy last minute gifts. It's gonna be a good weekend. I hope to squeeze a massage and January lesson plans in there (hahahah, as if)
word.
B

'Nuff said.

Oll Korrect.

If you want it.

Went to a production of Lysistrata over the weekend. This play - originally performed in 411 BC in Athens- is a comedy about a woman's pursuit to end the war, by convincing the women of Greece to boycott sex. 
Peace for sex. And sex for peace
Word!

Yipee! It's better no?

Yipeeeeee! It's better to fully enjoy every minute of your weekend NOT just working but living it up, no?]Yes!
I took this pic because seeing the word 'yipee' in print made me smile.
YIPEEEEEEEEE :)

Before it's a saree.

Shopping for family and friends (and myself, of course) on Commercial St. I needed to use the loo. Syed the shop keeper turned friend told me to use his, upstairs.

I walk up the white ceramic stairs and see a man pressing fabric onto stencils. I keep going up and now I'm on the terrace, which is inhabited by forgotten print screen panels.

Peonies are my fave.

Smiles

 Not a great shot, but this bloke was giving me the big-up smiles... so I took his picture.

Hugs

Don't they feel the best? A good heart-to-heart hug is priceless indeed (not sure this one pictured turned out to be a melting heart-to-hearter. It being a mega busy swarming Punjabi wedding and all).

 It's a rare breed of hug though; not easily obtainable. Then you meet someone that hugs you just right and warmth and energy radiates onto you, and you onto them. Yummmm... my best friend gives hugs like that, a tumultuous ex-boyfriend, my sister.


Of course they can be contextual, timely; a delightful surprise!  You hug a potential love interest and smile at the fact that that hug felt so good.You make a new friend and you hug for the first time and think wow- this person gives good hugs!  Or you hug a student cause she's feeling happy and gee whiz, that kid gave the best hug! Or you hug a student because he is feeling hurt, and again, boom!

My Great Dane Lola (Lola Girl Kubrick was her full name, ahem!) would stretch her long grey front paws at me and nuzzle her sweet face into my neck. I felt that love, man. Did I ever. And my insane cat Miles (good old Milesy). He would curl his soft black paws at my neck and purr, with a dreamy/angry expression in his big greens eyes. Miss that little fucker.

Have you had a satisfying hug today? I haven't, actually!
I'll rub my feet instead.
I really need to get a pet.

Thank god I'm a primary school teacher. Hugs aplenty.

Liam

LEEEEEEAAAAM!
My trouble maker gone good. This precocious little boy is bff's with Jean Baptise. Gangbusters.
Liam says the best stuff, but out of context it will seem odd and trite and not so awesome.
I love this little man. We talked about the ozone layer one day. He looked solemn, and kept wiping his eyes. Are you okay Mr. Liam? I ask.
Liam: Miss, can I talk to you outside?
We go to out into the hallway.
me: Was someone hurting you Liam, what's wrong?
He is sobbing now....
Liam: The ozone layer! Why do so many bad things have to happen to our planet?
me: Oh Liam! We as a society need to change our habits. Isn't it? (head bob)
Liam: Why don't Indians care? There is rubbish everywhere and I see them throwing it all over the place! Why don't they use rubbish bins?
me: I don't know why, babes.
He is our green warrior. He always uses the bin, asks if something can be recycled, loves when I use recycled paper for lessons...
He is the future.

Oops

Taken from Sachin's balcony.

I'm losing steam! Yesterday was a great day and again today, but I think I need to take vitamins. Man, I'm knackered.
And-
My horizons yearning to explore more more more ('cause that's how I like it).
But I love my life! I have an awesome life! Why are my ambitions so worldly? What's better in the Dark Continent? What's better in China?
I have a rug, I have the best kids, I am learning so much at work, I never wake up dreading to teach, I get to eat samosas whenever I want. My life is pretty perfect, safe for the lack of disco night life and someone to cuddle. Maybe I should get that dog after all.....
 

This photo taken by Sachin Pillai

Today ruled! I understood that you must act with good will and creativity, and the rest will follow!
And if it's not how you envisioned it to turn out...
ah well,
So be it!

Rickshaw in Bombay

sigh....

Mumbai was a whirlwind. Now back to life: teaching and photocopying and planning and listening to my kids.
Yoga class
facebook, gmail, ffffound: you know the drill.

I am nowreading the Bhagavad Gita.
"You have choice over your action but not over the results at any time. Do not (take yourself to) be the author of the results of action; neither be attached to inaction."
huh?
 Plan and act indeed, but if your results weren't as you had hoped, it's not your fault! You're not a failure! These are the laws of nature.
So, let it be.
Cool beans.

I missed Saturday....

...my bad...

It's Friday

I woke up and went to yoga. I took this photo at 6:05 a.m. A coconut kiosk.
In a couple hours I will be in Mumbai and I am PUUUUMPED! So, indeed I am dedicated to a photo-a-day, but Saturday I will not post.

I must have a think, too. Something exciting has presented itself to me, and I need to see if I will grab the opportunity, or not.
See you Sunday.
B

Perspective

Meet x. My creative, off-with-the-fairies, class clown. He is sweet, comical, naughty, bright, and dreamy. And he is rowdy. Oh! rowdy! He was making us all laugh (even me, depite my better judgement) by singing and dancing to the tune of 'Move it' but instead of singing 'I like to move it move it' he was singing 'I like to sing it sing it' with this pointer finger in the air, his hips gyrating about. He was killing himself with laughter too. Indeed, it was hilarious. Then I had an idea: Eureka! Bargaining power.

Me: x, let's make a deal. I'll give you five minutes of clown time, every day, where you get the attention of the class to be your comical genius. But- with this you must focus for the rest of the day. Whaddaya say?

x: OUI Miss B!

Nice. Let's see how he fares. In truth, I'm looking forward to it. He is a fascinating (if not overwhelming) child with zany humour and original thoughts.

It's all how you see it, isn't it? Instead of getting angry and growing tired of his antics, I am trying to harness his unquenchable energy and hilarity.

To be continued....

Intimidate

Yeah.  Bring it on.

I took half a day sick leave this afternoon. I'm working my samosa ass off with planning and report card commenting. I'm knackered, man! I got all the right signatures, explained the lesson to the teacher that was taking over, spoke to my kids before I left, made sure they understood what they had to do, and walked home. I opened my door and smiled, seeing the sun shine on my new wall hangings, on a school day! And so I sat on my dining room table and worked some more, despite wanting to nap my afternoon away.

I then get a passive aggressive email about unplanned absences and following procedure, about appropriate signatures and blablabla. This is communist China or what? I don't feel well, geeez! I have a lot of work to do- dayum! I have paid sick days and I plan to take them. So there!

Hmphf! (my kids love when I do that, hmphf, bringing my shoulders up then jerk them back down, lips persed, eyebrows furrowed- hmpf!)

I will not be intimidated.

On the way to school

See the kids huddled in uniforms on the right? They're waiting for the bus. I take the bus too, even though its a 10 minute walk to school. Every minute counts in the morning, am I right?

Discipline

That's a tough one, itsn't it? Head bob.
Just getting on your mat is an accomplishment in itself, and there's no turning back.

Discipline of getting up at 6 a.m and not hurling my alarm across the room. Discipline to do some breathing exercises instead of sleeping some extra minutes. Discipline of creating an awesome lesson instead of taking one from the internet. Discipline of getting my kids to read and to write; to use their words instead of their hands; to respect each other and themselves, instead of letting it all happen; shrug and think: 'well, they're just kiiiiiids'.

Discipline to stop bitching and remember that everyone is fighting a battle, that everyone needs love. I'm alive, and so are you!

Discipline is honoring yourself.

Now the discipline of (fill in the blank).

Gold!

If you haven't tried salty toothpaste, you must.
I bought three toothpastes, and salt is the winner by a landslide.
The third one was to win gold.

Tell me. What happened.

'Tell me' I say to the boy in the photo. This is VERY Indian to say, 'Tell me'. So direct, succinct. I don't have a clue why this little guy,  playing at a building site, is imploring me to look at a torn wrapper with Animals on it.

'What happened.' I try. 'Tell me' and 'What happened' (no inflection at the end, it's not expressed as a question, more like a statement) are interchangeable greetings I've come to notice. In my world it means all this: 'Whats up? How are you? What's wrong? Are you okay?  I'm listening! I'm caring!'

I don't understand, let alone speak Kannada, the local language in Bangalore, so we were at a loss. But I took the picture, and he was pleased.

Kids

Some kids from my 'hood.

 Yeah, that's it for tonight, friends. I'm on an "OHM" high and working lots.

WORD.

Committed

I usually practice in the evenings, but I have a dinner to go to tonight so I attended the morning class. I am committed to yoga! I told myself: "B, you're going every day this week." but "Oh no I have a dinner, yeah I can't go! shucks..." There's a morning class at 6:10. So I went. Commitment feels good.

I'm more flexible, I'm more aware, I'm hurting in places I didn't know could hurt. My teacher says "You are so alive! You can do so many things! One day it will come. " Some poses are only for circus freaks; I want to be that circus freak!

I'm sleeping better and in a better mood. For all the hype and fanfare yoga endures, it truly does the body good.

Now if I could only commit to stop gorging on samosas and butter naan.....

Promoting dustbins.

Garbage can. Garbage bin. Trash can. Rubbish bin.  Dustbin. I've started referring to it as a dustbin, actually. Such a British term, isn't it?

There are not enough dustbins in the city. There is no vehicle to recycle cans, bottles, plastics, or paper either.

And look how thought out and good looking the art is on this said object! Does rendering something beautiful make it more worthwhile? Indeed! I took a photo of it! That and the sad fact that they are a rarity in the city.  It was a thing to behold, to document.

But this dustbin is empty. Has anyone else noticed how arty it looks?

Tough

 

This is a garbage man's foot. Three men posed for me and were oh-so-happy to do so. Yet it was the single foot, a little outside all the trucks' rubbish, that inspired me.  Rugged. Stately. Present. Grounded. Filthy. Hard.

I'd like to be aspects of this foot, safe for filthy, and rugged, and hard. Hmmm just stately and present. and the big one: Grounded.

xo

Bent

It's pink and frilly and sheer. But it's an umbrella. No, rather, it's a parasol, a sunshade, isn't it?
And it's broken, lying sadly and curiously on the side of the road. Deformed.

Space

Making space: In your closet, in your cupboards, in your body, in your mind.

Decorating space: On your walls, in your rooms, on a blank canvas.

Needing space: From negative people, from debilitating thoughts, for positive feelings, for beautiful objects.

Having (a) space: Calling it your own. coming to it, leaving it, shutting off the lights.

Creating space:  Conscious breathing,  conscious 'letting go', AND bringing it all together with a sumptuous rug. (!)

Find your space.

Joy (in religion)

Today was an odd day. I was stifled by disappointing information in the morning. Despite going for a walk and taking a photo, I didn't download it. Not all that inspired visually today, so here's one from Dussara, a holiday here in India, in September.

I met a guy tonight who kept telling me to feel the music and let it take over your body. "Music is my religion" he said. He exercises this religion. His every pore feels music. He is truly high on music! An African brother, a beautiful spec clad black boy. And I felt stiff, self conscious, embarrassed. why- I don't know. It bothered me to know I was stiff; to feel my legs heavy; my knees rigid; my hips hard because my mind was caged with too many thoughts. A battlefied.

Coming home I thought 'oh nooo I havent kept my photo a day ritual', even though I took a photo today. This was the first picture that came to mind to post. The movement, the flouncy hair and fabric. The unadulterated joy colouring her face, highlighting her body.

Joy. Joy is mindless.

Rememberance Day

This is a cheat. I took it last night but cropped it tonight.

Spoke to my students about Rememberance Day and wowie am I a pacifist! I was saying how atrocious war is. One boy was like, 'but war is normal miss B. Fighting for land! Fighting for your Country! If it wasn't then we wouldn't be doing it!'

'Not so little man! It's (here I am doing some air quotes) 'normal' to lie and to cheat and to steal, but it's still wrong, right?' There's always other ways to handle things, right?

He shrugs and smiles ruefully.

Sometimes we do things even though we know they're wrong. Even when we know they're wrong; we tell ourselves it's okay to be wrong sometimes.

I'm talking about two different things here, can you tell?

I want a dog

Yeah. I remember Freska, Loufka and Lola, I remember Obelix and Doudou, Ninja, Bruce Wayne and Cassie. And even though the shedding and the guilt were sometimes overwhelming, that wagging tail and smile won me over time and time again.
Over and over.
What would I do with a dog in India? Come home to it! How can I travel to lands not yet discovered by me? Trusty dog loving friends!? How can I go back to Salone for a visit with a dog in tow? Again be at the mercy of my animal loving mother!?
Gah! I don't know, it's so irrational, and yet so visceral.
So indeed I am looking to adopt a doggie in need....
......maybe this too shall pass.
All that hair on my new rug love? Yeah, bring it on!

My neighbourhood

"Byyyyyyyyyye" she chants, as she waves to me. "Byyyyyyyyyye auntie!" ( I assume she thinks Bye is Hi, regardless..)

A few people of all ages are building this building. No machinery, just people carrying and lifting and smiling and chatting and smoking. Women and men, boys and girls. All day.

And every morning it's BYYYYYYYYYE and every afternoon it's BYYYYYYYYYE as I pass by. so much joy!

Today as I walked to yoga I brought my camera and took a few shots. The smiles extended, the joy palpable.  As a rule I find that Indians like getting their picture taken.

A portrait photographer's heaven.

Late night stroll

hmm sweets. Indian sweets are heavenly.  Such extreme tastes in India, extreme palette. Wicked sweet or wicked spicey...

Not much to report, apart from having a lovely day, loving my little ones so much, and enjoying my rug. Taught yoga to older kids which was a welcomed change.   Took a yoga class this eve and vowed to get back into it on a regular basis. It's all about making space in your body.

Stretch.

The stroll was calm. The streets empty, safe for some rickies (rickshaw drivers) chatting together and smoking butts, stray dogs lounging about, vendors closing shop.
Good night y'all.
B

Rug Love. As ridiculous as that sounds.

Not sure how it's possible to meet and fall in love with a carpet, but it happened to me last night. My mother has a bit of a fetish, and I grew up lying on rugs and admiring their mystery and originality. India (my new home, let's be honest) is most definitely the place to purchase a rug. My mum kept asking me, "Have you fallen in love yet?" and I was like, "Uh, What? Non maman, I'm not like you!"

And then it happened.  I was looking for my friends who told me they were in a crafts shop. I ented the shop and didn't see them, but thought, ah why not, lets look at some rugs. He pulled out one. Dusty rose. not me. He pulled out another one, had helicoptes and tanks on it. So not me. And then he unrolled this beauty and I literally went down and touched it and sat on it. No hesitation. I knew.
So here it is. A new love. yeah; rolling around on her is just as amazing as I had envisioned. Practicing yoga on her is somehow magical.

The nest egg is forming. Backwards. Now I want a dog.

Exit Comis Sans

Everywhere, quite literally everywhere, isn't it? Ugh! I hate you comic sans. Begone! Sayonara! EXIT!

On a completely different note: I bought a carpet today and it's a stunner Happy Birthday Sweet Sister and happy early birthday present to meeeee. yipeeeee!

Bless him, the man that made my first ever fresh grape juice.

My taste buds will never be the same. My girlfriends keep urging me to go to the juice shop in our neighbourhood, and oddly enough it's taken me this long and a wicked sore throat to finally get my fat samosa ass there.

Heaven. If heaven was a colour and a taste it would be purple and taste like grapes. Gorgeous. After that juice I smiled a little wider, I giggled a little girlier and I walked with more swagger. What sore throat? Thank you juice man.

P.S. Is it only me, or to Indians have the most beautiful eyes?

Biker, on Library Road, in the rain.

Adhering to self imposed integrity, this was the first shot I took tonight, and so I post. Forcing myself to get up of my after school nap ( I never nap, well hardly ever) to get a beer to accompany the  picnic-in-bed noodle dinner, I saw this smiling guy talking to someone from his bike. Fished around for the camera in my bag,  found it, grabbed it,  pointed, and shot. Not a masterpiece, as you can see. But look closer, look at his expression.
Happy Friday y'all
B

Avinash

Meet Avinash, one of the boys in my class. A precocious and  lively boy with sparkling eyes and a cheeky smile. He is one of the only students that thinks of the class as a whole instead of himself only. Today he showed me his break dancing moves (wow! he's 6!)...He is a fabulous illustrator and has great math strategies.  His favourite word is awesome and he gives great hugs.

A Photo a day, starting tonight.

 Inspired by Jonathan Harris, I am following suit and taking one photo a day, editing it, and posting it. I have become complacent, I blame work and slow internet and tired macbook 2006 machine, but it's me. I'm losing the desire to express myself visually, and that scares me. So----

Meet Ganesh, he works at the corner store. He is timid, giggles a lot, and has a melting killer smile. Sweet way to begin my photo-a-day.

B

India, take two.

Enough! I say, enough of wanting to write but always making excuses. Oh, I'm so tired I have so much work I should be editing photos or writing lesson plans or returning emails or painting my flat or cooking or cleaning perchance going to bed early or going to a yoga class or or or. ENOUGH! So, I have promised myself a little entry to my forgotten blog that I won't edit my ass off. Let's write and see what happens.

Salone - like an old friend I forgot I had and loved - was what being in West Africa was like. A strange but comforting familiarity, thrill, and natural harmony was my initiation to a continent I never really cared for, or desired to know. The wild and dark continent! How could I shrug Africa? The warmth, the tactility and the wide smiley people. That language, that skin, that body; Oooh what heaven!

Working and living in a rural fishing village was at once cocooning/safe and isolating. Internet? What internet? Movie theatre? Ha! Hot shower, yeah right. But I did have an amazing roommate, the most mind meltingly talented and inspiring students,  hot guards to fantasize about and even a sweet little hole in the wall bar to patron. All was fine fine in Salone. In three short months I became a Salone uman. Saying Adieu to this country was the saddest, most heart wrenching goodbye I have experienced thus far, leaving the people dumbfounded. 'Stop crying Miss B. You must endure. This is life. This is God's will. Endure. Endure!'
 Ha. Indeed.

The subcontinent beckoned, and I listened. India, the breathing paradox, the place where all is permitted  and all is repressed; where all is sacred and all is profane. The stares and dirt and sweet and spice and assault of the 5 senses implored me to be amongst its colour, taste, and charm. And I caved. Now I am in the South; a different India. More chill, more palm trees, more dosas, more sarees, more coconut. Same dirt, same pollution, same rubbish piles, same temples, same stares, same sacred cows.

My flat is big and sometimes lonely.

My student today said, 'So aren't you lonely in your apartment?' 

me: 'Hmmmm sometimes. Can we focus please?'

student: 'Where's your husband?'

me: 'I don't have a husband!'  Ok come on let's focus. Show me your focus hands.'

student: 'What? (visually troubled by this news) well you should get one! And then when you have a husband you're going to get a baby.'

me: 'Hahhahah well yes, I guess you might be right. Alright, so, what do you think Dr. Seuss means when he says: 'hang ups and bang ups?'

student: 'So you'll have to miss a day of school when you have the baby. Hmmm. I don't think you should get married Miss B. We can't have you away for a day.'

How can I possibly be lonesome when I have nineteen (soon to be twenty) international little ones loving me up seven hours a day, five days a week? Impossible.

India is home. My bedding and my students make it so. Achcha hai!

More tips and tricks for the single traveler

Drink a ton of water. Will do. Wear comfortable shoes. Got it. Pack light. Done.  Carry a notebook. Of course. Get a music player and good ear/head phones. Duh! Learn please and thank you in the various languages you will encounter. Check and check! Ok so, what else is there, you're thinking, to traveling well? So much more mes amies- the above is obvious and generic! What's coming up (in my humble opinion) will heighten your experience, regardless of where you're going, or how you're getting there:

1: Bring a pen, actually no, bring three. You can never have enough pens. You will need to fill out forms and write down directions, not to mention sharing your wealth with a stranger that forgot (or can't find) a pen. Keep them in separate compartments of your bag, not randomly in the crumbly pit bottom of your carryon. Few things are more nightmarish than to search and scramble for a pen you're positive you've packed!

2. SNACKS SNACKS SNACKS! I heart snacks.  Candy, chocolate, and nuts are my weakness. Something sour/bitter (cheery blasters, sour keys, dark chocolate), sugary and soft (swedish berries), minty and chewy (mentos), and buttery (almonds, cashews, sunflower seeds...). I cant stress enough how happy you will be to have your own yummy munchables.... Hahah do I have diabetes yet?!

(On that note: yes indeed, drink lots of water. Of course.)

3. Wear a scarf. Yes, this applies to men as well. Scarves are multi purpose and chic, making you look instantly put together. It also can take on the role of blanket, towel, sun shield, pillowcase and pillow. By scarf I mean a large square cotton piece or a faux pashmina. Think lightweight, super soft, and a palette that compliments your wardrobe and skin colour.

4. Sunglasses. Don't skimp on this item. Buy a good pair. Take care of your eyes. Totally worth the $ and again helps in the put-together look and feel.

5. Wear something with a hood. This comes in handy if you wish to shield yourself from the daylight and wish to be left alone. I've spent countless hours in airports, bus terminals, and train stations, grateful for the cocooning effect of my hooded jacket and dupatta.

6. Carry a facecloth in your carryon. This is self explanatory but also pretty important. Traveling can be dirty. Be the traveler that looks and feels clean. One of life's daily pleasures is washing your face, even if it's just with water.

7. Sit at the airport bar, order a beer and chat it up with the bartender. Chances are the next time you order a drink (make it a mixed drink this time) the bartender will make it a stiff one!  Try it. Works every time.

8. Drink as many drinks on the plane as you possibly can, and don't be shy or embarrassed about the fact that you are enjoying your third beer while the person next to you just wishes he had the audacity to ask for another. Drink yourself to a comfortable state. Doze. Sleep. Stare. Listen to music. Meditate. ( I give this advice in jest; in no way am I promoting alcoholism. Please let that be noted.)

9.  Breathe. Do some breathing exercises. It will make you calm and focused, aware of the moment. Don't be hating on the fact that you're waiting, you can't connect to the internet, about finding your heavy book all of a sudden so incredibly boring. Just breathe. Sit up. Pull your shoulders back and down. Breathe in slowly for 4 counts. Hold for 2. Breathe out slowly and fully for 7 counts.

10. Stretch. make circles with your shoulder blades in one direction, then the other. make circles with your ankles. Move your head to one side, then the other. Do a  standing or sitting forward bend, hug your knees. The varieties are plentiful. Just close your eyes and focus on your breathing, your body. Where are you holding tension? Breathe into there and intuitively let your movements guide your stretching. Your body will thank you!

And lastly, 11. Smile. When you're walking around, dawdling, spritzing perfume in the Duty Free, minding your own business, killing time. Smile, and look people in the eyes. Connect. Trust. Talk to your neighbor. Smile! You're on an adventure! You're taking- or about to take- a plane/train/ferry/boat/bus! How awesome is that?!

The meals I've been making with food items I find in Andrea's fridge.

Chicken with Pineapple and Peanuts.

I marinated cut up chicken with soya sauce, sugar, sesame oil, franks hot sauce, crushed peanuts and chunks of pineapple.  I also added a glug of port and balsamic vinegar.
let sit in the fridge a few hours.
I chopped a few cloves of garlic and sauteed them with some butter. added the marinade, added frozen peas and tad ah! dinner! Serve over white basmati rice

Hot Italian Sausage with Sour Cream, Red Onions, and Port

boil the sausages in a pan beforehand. prick holes in the sausage so the fat can ooze out. set aside.
Cut a whole red onion and sautee it with garlic and one part butter one part olive oil.
add port. Once the onions have softened a little, add the sausages to the pan and add some sour cream.
add some franks hot sauce and some Dijon. very lovely tasting.


Tuna and Rice Casserole, with some frozen Peas.

Some day-old rice is perfect for this. add a can of tuna to the rice, thinly slice some chives and add to the mix. a dollop of cream cheese, mayonnaise and Dijon. add the peas, some Parmesan, a dash of soya sauce. mix. cover with shredded cheese and Parmesan. place in the oven (350) . 20 minutes later you are eating! Also at the last minute set it to broil so the cheese gets a little golden.

All of the above ingredients I found in her fridge and cupboard. I made it my mission create dishes with what was at hand.
The project proved tasty.

I did spend money on the Chocolate Almond Cake, and it was worth every dollar and ever calorie.

thanks for reading y'all.
keep eating, 'cause, you know: LIFE IS SHORT
B

A conversation with A second chance.

The luxury of Unemployment guides me to slothful coffee mornings and even slothier mid-afternoon baths.
Leisurely walks through the snow at night.
Just because.


And now - for ART making!!
My oh-so-lovely and ultra talented friend Lizzy said,  "...make a... make a collage".
And so I did.
Collage: the untroubled way to instantaneous reward.
Burglarize from a few found - but not sought out- sources
to create one work.
Random (?) words, phrases, photos:
I and this collage are at the mercy of materials at hand.
...
Picking Choosing
....Fitting Gluing
and TadaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaH!
ART!

And like good (?) Art does, it sparked discussion, animated insight,  manufactured TRUTH.

(The mind: what treasure; what torture)

What are you made of?

.......
Happy Endings




Isn't it?

Simple.

Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music- the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people.
Forget yourself.

doing nothing and loving the nothingness. pressure free in 2011

waking up at 11:30 or so, making coffee and lying in bed with my best friend, talking boyz and life.
some things never change, thank god.

sitting out on the balcony and smoking nasty ciggies...
some things never change....
ewww- so bad for my bod.

asking why
(some things never change....)
 knowing you will never get the answer.

going to bed at 3am or so.. snuggling with the cat and my friend
some things are
as is
as regular as the seasons.
thank god.

Sci Fi Death Dream. Happy 2011 everybody!

Happy new Yeaaaaaaaaaaare!

Hello beloved  Baths And Beer blog readers. I wish you a healthy and fun filled 2011, stuffed with a ton of loving and laughing and epicurean delights!

 I preface this post with a creative and creepy dream I had last night. Actually, it was the impetus to start writing again.  So I am happy to be here, typing away, instead of agonizing on my next plan of attack for 2011.

In the dream I decide to stop my diddle daddling in Canada, go back to India without any real plans and live it up, this time in the south.
In the dream I decide to stop living in my head and start living out my dream of being the adventure-filled globe-trotting person that I desire to be. I am in some type of outdoor specialty shop, searching for a new back pack(think Moutain Equipment Co-Op or The North Face).
In the dream I am still very much in my head, thinking 'ah fuck it, stop worrying about finding love, about getting married, about having kids, about learning Hindi, about gluttonous pig out sessions, about finding the ideal teaching gig, just be, gosh, B!' I walk towards a wire bin full of back packs...
In comes a man with a gun. He is dressed like he is about to climb a mountain. The gun is futuristic looking, a brushed silver and mat navy blue, with a wide barrel. He shoots at nothing and a spray of white smoke comes out. Next the smoke materializes into a jacket, then pants, then hiking boots. I look up this outfit and see a man(not a real man, real looking but I know he is a robot) in the hood of the gortex jacket. The robot then pulls out his hand from his jacket pocket, brandishing a similar looking gun and points it at me. Again not a bullet comes out but a pffffffft sound accompanied by white smoke. I try to run out of the store, but my legs are not following my brain. I finally get to the exit and open the door, but once I do another mountain hiking robot is there to greet me and shoots the pfft smoke in my face... all I can think about as I feel myself falling into a fateful slumber and slow motion crumbling onto the sun lit sidewalk is that I wasted SO MUCH FUCKING TIME WORRYING about the FUTURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I woke up in a mood. Did I just die by some strange smoke robot? Why? F- the Universe cares not for why. Why is not important. But because of this dream I decide to stop worrying.

Being unemployed with no foreseeable prospects is a reality that I am struggling with. Yeah, to the onlooker it could look like a ton of fun to wake up whenever, do whatever, and go to bed whenever. Yet there is a pressure in all my freedom.

Every day is a gift, right?

I spent New Years eve and day at my best friend's parents cottage. We came back to Ottawa late Monday night, to yellow crime scene tape and a couple cop cars at her apartment building. The basement tenant was stabbed to death and was found outside the building new years day. It's an ongoing investigation. No one really knows what happened. When your time is up, your time is up, I guess.

Every day is a present, indeed.

So, my 2011 is about adventure and uncertainty.  I'm going to be that Hindi speaking, Life adoring, Dosa eating, Children teaching, and Portrait photographing individual that I wish to be.

Stability can wait. And I already have a back pack.