Beaver Tail, Funnel Cake, Churros…

call it what you want it’s deep fried dough typically rolled in cinnamon and sugar and it’s a little taste of heaven. Add three milk cake with whipped cream and you have what we called dessert at the “Taste of Nicaragua” dinner last night.

My Jamaican mother-in-law made ‘rice and peas’, a tasty blend of long grain rice stewed with kindney beans and coconut milk, in Nicaragua it’s called Gallo Pinto or ‘speckled rooster’ , it’s pretty much a staple for all of Latin America.

See? I’m learning stuff!

I met the leader of the mission group who started the whole concept of aiding Nicaraguans on behalf of the Presbyterian church 12 years ago. They’ve designed a full two week experience that isn’t limited to young, strong people. They welcome everyone who wants to help (and can earn the funds to go) from 12 years old and up. Some people go to do physical labor, others go to help hold and feed sick babies, teach music or sports to kids or help young moms. There’s no end of work that can be done there or pretty much anywhere in the world. The organization is pretty grass roots but it’s become a fairly sophisticated outfit over the years. I will have access to running water, shower facilities and flush toilets. My food will come from a supermarket and be cooked for me and my transportation and an interpreter will be provided. A huge luxury I’m already feeling guilty about. In order to cover the two week trip in one week we’ll need to get to a lot of locations to acquire the video we need to tell their story.

The church group of fifteen is backed by an entire congregation. It’s a small town church outside of Niagara Falls, Ontario but they are mighty fund-raisers! They applied their madd skillz and raised almost double the necessary funds to go. Not only will we witness three school rooms being built and painted, a recent hurricane caused the boy’s orphanage to lose it’s roof. This group is going to replace it. A teacher who has donated all his time so far will get a salary and there will is still money left to use there. Each participant had to raise their own $3000. to go and they will each try to fill two fifty pound hockey bags with donated stuff to take with them and leave behind.

I nearly cried when the group presented the cheque to the mission leader.

We don’t see signs and wonders anymore?

I’d say a small group raising any money in this day and age is a wonder. A sign? I’m going to a third world country with my eyes wide open and not one ounce of my usual cynicism. That’s a miracle. Then there is the wonder of Churros. How something so simple, fattening and delicious crossed borders, oceans, cultures and lifetimes to be enjoyed in many worlds? I’d put that in the wonder category.

Flurry of Inertia…

Yeah, I buckled.

New job, trip planning, proposal writing… some how S & J got neglected. Sorry. I know I was doing so well but the dog ate the URL! (Actually I’ll blame the cat. Ella peed on it heaven knows she’s peeing on selected sites a lot these days, like the ventilation grate. Have you ever found out an animal peed on your vent, usually vents are connected to vent work like ducting which travels under floors through bulkheads and eventually connects back to your air conditioning/heat making furnace? That was rhetorical. If you said ‘yes’ you’d know a cat with one less life. Let’s just say the husband has renewed his subscription to HowToKillYourCat.com.

So much, no, too much is going on and my brain is in overdrive. I just received the final confirmation about the shoot in Nicaragua. NICARAGUA! Yes. I’m yelling. I started the first round of inoculations. Hep A and B times three rounds, typhoid just one. I’ll say won instead because that one hoits! Full muscle ache. I have a prescription of Malaria pills you take for 5-6 weeks and cypro for the dreaded diarrhea. We brought the camera in to shoot the needle paraphernalia and the tropical diseases reference book and the fun part -the needles going into arms. I asked the nurse to show me where it would go in to the camera guys’ arm, focused then looked away, just in case. I’ve also written a long proposal to ask for partial funding costs for our flights. Since we’re not getting paid for our work and we’re losing pay to be there we thought it was ok to approach various resources for grants. See? No online begging (I think that’s tacky). So a micro-crew -just two of us will spend the best part of five days or more following a group of voluntourists as they build school rooms, visit women’s shelters, orphanages, the city dump, to reach out with medical supplies, clothing, toys, and even just sing for the elderly to uplift their spirits.

Even with the warnings about diseases I think my biggest fear is not wanting to come home.

I hope to blog about the experience just to clear out my thoughts.

Kind of like a vent (without the cat pee).

Spare Change?

I’m starting to take on some traits I’m not so proud of.

Everyday I do the socks, runners and skort, skirt, long shorts, pant or jeans look for my daily commute.
Yes it’s as attractive as that reads.

Every day before I leave I wake up the husband and ask him for spare change.

Every morning he gives me a dirty look and says, “NO!” or “Check my pants!” or “why can’t you go to the bank?”

It’s part of the routine.

I rifle through his shorts, pants, wallet, whatever, sifting, foraging, chewing on the big coins to make sure they’re real. I’m grateful to have the luxury of loose change. Everyday I can purchase a cup of hot tea before I head into the office and change out of my tacky runners (and put on my tacky shoes). I never have to take out my wallet, break a bill and watch it disappear (the husband gets to do that!) just jingle the pockets for the buck fifty. It’s only been a week but it’s part of my day. My reward for 30 minutes of walking and 20 minutes of standing on the crowded (but air-conditioned) train.

Starting next week, I’ll probably start making tea when I get to the office, bring bags and a mug in, mark my territory in the kitchenette. I’ll save $7.50 a week! It’s only been two weeks so I may be creating a false economy.

“Look honey”, I’ll say,

“I just saved you $7.50 by not begging for change! See How I’m saving our pennies?”

See? Good working wife.

That Rustlin’ Sound Means Only One Thing…

The dog was walkin’ too close to the silk drapes.

My head snapped around at the noise and instantly my death ray vision was engaged.

The dog looked up and slowly backed away from the drapes.

Why haven’t I engage my death ray vision before? I’m trying it on the nine year old when he wakes up.

Just for fun.
Mwahaha.

Don’t Go…

to bombippy.com
Grrr.
The one about the web surfing hampering smell.

Hmmmm…

A Faux Birthday Haiku

Ice cream cake.
Chocolate fudge center.
(Seconds. Thirds.)
I don’t even like ice cream.

Nine Years Ago…

I gave birth to a white Asian baby who wouldn’t even look at me. He folded his tiny hand and gave me the finger.

Over the next couple of days he slowly turned into a light skinned brown infant and finally opened his eyes. He no longer looked Chinese but he still looked ‘puffy’. I’m glad he doesn’t remember his sister trying to get a hold of him as he rolled out of his receiving blanket out of her arms.

He’s a tall, gangly-limbed boy now. All muscle and front teeth. He’s starting to cop the attitude that goes with flipping the bird, but he’s still young enough to feel the effects from be punished for it. He desperately wants the Indiana Jones Lego video game which is being released on his birthday. He’ll get that plus a summer wardrobe that I hope he won’t outgrow before summer officially arrives.

He can be sweet and affectionate, goofy and thoughtful.

He was my 40th birthday present and he continues to delight and surprise me.

I’m so thankful I get to be his mom.

When It Rains…

I get freaky busy.

Week one on the job: Complete.
Fun? Wow.

But just as the nine to five training period ended an amazing opportunity came up that would be a huge complement to my repertoire of work, my body of work, my long list of credits in the world of television.

I have a chance to go to Nicaragua and shoot a pilot. Who for you ask? ME.
My project (with a partner). How much money have the investors put forward for the project? None.
Who’s paying for this? Well, this is the year of the ‘REnovation AFtermath’ or as I like to call it ‘After the Lovin’.
Broke doesn’t begin to describe what I am right now. But I am working now and getting a paycheck and even though it has a list of people standing with their hand out for payment from that check, I’m still going to make the trip happen.

Some people go to Disneyland, some go to Nicaragua. (Hey I can use that line in the promo). Not to give too much away but the pilot will be about transforming lives by sending ‘the privileged’ to work beside the underprivileged. Transformation? You can bet on it.

Here’s how I plan to do it.
This is what I sent to my brother in an email

Heading: Because I care about…

Love you mean it.

Who says you’re too old to step outside the lines and make things happen? Is that person rich now? Would they like to make a donation to a meaningful cause in a way that will resonate for years to come? Have their people call my people. Thanks.