tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23974721642083340082024-03-05T02:30:45.695-08:00Dave Gribbin PhotographerReflections on life as viewed from the aging eyes of a passionate soul. Unenlightened people probably just see an old bald guy with a camera.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-65620121111032748922017-12-26T11:10:00.000-08:002017-12-26T11:17:11.086-08:002017 Holiday Wishes<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">‘Twas two years since I’ve penned, </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">lots to share with my friends,</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Have made more time for trips, not just on the weekends.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Our great parks, grandiose, need more time to explore</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Carved by Nature so slowly, much too great to ignore.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">To the north or the south, the tough calls we must make</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Each unique. Each sublime. We inhale and partake.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">We must choose from the seven, a short drive from our drive,</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Or just hike hills out back, make our bones feel alive.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Frisbee golf, it’s not work, we’ve climbed up, and then down,</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">With the deer, and some eagles, looking down over town.</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Then to Paris, yes, France. Coast of Alaska as well.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">On Hawaii’s Big Isle cast a black lava spell.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Up north to Victoria, spellbinding and fun</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">On the west shore of Ireland, waved goodnight to the sun.</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Frequent visits to Tulsa with Oktoberfest stein</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Local brew is quite good, but we much prefer wine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Stuffed our bags with some Paddy’s, very smooth Irish brew.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">On your next trip to Utah, hope to share some with you.</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">And my wife working hard to keep Trumpishness out</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Of her life, and her day, and at night, Irish stout.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Ev’ry night we sit back and reflect on our luck</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">As the sun coats the sky, acronym, WTF.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Our kids each work hard and augment their great skill</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Couldn’t ask for much more, makes our world brighter still.</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">But my gift, quite heartfelt, is my world on a disc</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">It spans half our lives, with one asterisk.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">There are voices and smiles and great moments now gone</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">So much there, not the best, good enough to pass on.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Generations to come might find something worthwhile</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Like Gam, on a scooter, going fast up the aisle.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">A brief taste of forebears, wish we’d had more to share,</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Not just a name or a job, smiling eyes for an heir.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Or your child, someday parent, grandpa/grandma as well,</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">At a lake, at the zoo, no clear way to foretell.</span></span></div>
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Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-58810013968574201402015-12-22T13:03:00.002-08:002015-12-23T09:15:26.372-08:002015 Means I’m on my 55th Page<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCMDhYR8dP4P7rNYUiUO7qC1RpcZUCCISAfoxQIJyfSKCmd2fNsA0DoPCERlDVlF4gHeqF66Kvr7KobK4aOEzDBpsKxPDKYfPCBOh_IExKE89ni9HeMWwXUyLDpThxHTABDYIIpBqNhg/s1600/davegribbin_sisters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCMDhYR8dP4P7rNYUiUO7qC1RpcZUCCISAfoxQIJyfSKCmd2fNsA0DoPCERlDVlF4gHeqF66Kvr7KobK4aOEzDBpsKxPDKYfPCBOh_IExKE89ni9HeMWwXUyLDpThxHTABDYIIpBqNhg/s320/davegribbin_sisters.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s just not that long ago, I was pretty much your age.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Enjoyed each day sophomoric, living life as if teenage.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Luck, hard work, and sacrifice….successful lives result.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And soon before you know it, kids will call you an adult.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9KElw_jpbgsZIB03IrxiDtpF3q00_Hb6OJyfM4MWb0CljmxKrFMj8XEiqEKNBMLopE_77RIfsl0x3TOkJ5R5xO1ro429g9aR7Zpu49KUzpo_bmXCs_2fFoeT4-BVSIKP7qKSN4ppyq0I/s1600/davegribbin_sunoverkauai.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9KElw_jpbgsZIB03IrxiDtpF3q00_Hb6OJyfM4MWb0CljmxKrFMj8XEiqEKNBMLopE_77RIfsl0x3TOkJ5R5xO1ro429g9aR7Zpu49KUzpo_bmXCs_2fFoeT4-BVSIKP7qKSN4ppyq0I/s320/davegribbin_sunoverkauai.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Life’s half gone if I’m lucky. Even more so, if I’m not.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My kids on their own journeys, learning things that I forgot.</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">Have lost many whom I’ve loved.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Couldn’t stay and play the game.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7j6shC70bVaYGkZhqkKwYHuXzUFF4IsnXFV5DYK9L3GzxPdiLzgxSTBYm9oIMiPaujD1Ol4vPLBnK5E_sOa9CnUf-d5NKC4KHL_-R5pNy-u-sRrW2zgCS2zAyqEq9WoYorpHWfI_s4Is/s1600/davegribbin_DSC8276.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7j6shC70bVaYGkZhqkKwYHuXzUFF4IsnXFV5DYK9L3GzxPdiLzgxSTBYm9oIMiPaujD1Ol4vPLBnK5E_sOa9CnUf-d5NKC4KHL_-R5pNy-u-sRrW2zgCS2zAyqEq9WoYorpHWfI_s4Is/s320/davegribbin_DSC8276.gif" width="180" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m inspired to make fine art. Timeless beauty in my world.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Like my kids from long ago, </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">with their long hair blonde and curled.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Have learned things from the masters. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Like a garden in full bloom,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My muses guide my camera, draw me closer with the zoom.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-U4LFXk-NCg0xYeom8POE5K-fljrqQLGjKHS3nOkfW4OwOTl9uw_BeiQTMhZ4W8U3ld34murlBtsEZHgvCzlTgCgRGzbdzDBl06Ds9Qp35H1ki2pdWmZwjPfxpghGQ1cPN9vqGED38F8/s1600/davegribbin_8616.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-U4LFXk-NCg0xYeom8POE5K-fljrqQLGjKHS3nOkfW4OwOTl9uw_BeiQTMhZ4W8U3ld34murlBtsEZHgvCzlTgCgRGzbdzDBl06Ds9Qp35H1ki2pdWmZwjPfxpghGQ1cPN9vqGED38F8/s320/davegribbin_8616.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Like a dream they live their lives, at a slower pace than I,</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">No phones or interruptions, in the past or by and by.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">The world I have created from a memory of mine,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of times which were much slower, </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">winter rays of warm sunshine.</span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ZLYhQ8xulL8hAr3ouhMiqbN1-5SnI4Wk1ZCEFYUCM9xHsXvXHfhy1pIVsSWUxLs7kv5et8KulzTgony_Nq7ihDQfXqG-Jky55cjvOvphJCGxN29fZQ5m4u8tJQy9pb-uiPHorp4SDcs/s1600/davegribbin_peacock.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ZLYhQ8xulL8hAr3ouhMiqbN1-5SnI4Wk1ZCEFYUCM9xHsXvXHfhy1pIVsSWUxLs7kv5et8KulzTgony_Nq7ihDQfXqG-Jky55cjvOvphJCGxN29fZQ5m4u8tJQy9pb-uiPHorp4SDcs/s320/davegribbin_peacock.jpg" width="212" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Internal and eternal, silent beauty. All is still.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of youth before disorder, satin skin with lace and frill.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">An image I will treasure as I add to those I’ve made.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A mystery full of softness, dreamscape woven in a braid.</span></div>
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<span style="clear: right; color: white; display: inline !important; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Cz6seO0cM8qID39zRfihJ9XEP66sH7BIu0EBjJSxjSmwQfMcyE6E50zarh79y2DVuXzmec6s8SOVQLI8WVEGT6-qjeDosMvdOYlce99ThF1BhQDF63G23NERgu7ASrgbkZUhfeGp0Q4/s1600/davegribbin-0263.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Cz6seO0cM8qID39zRfihJ9XEP66sH7BIu0EBjJSxjSmwQfMcyE6E50zarh79y2DVuXzmec6s8SOVQLI8WVEGT6-qjeDosMvdOYlce99ThF1BhQDF63G23NERgu7ASrgbkZUhfeGp0Q4/s320/davegribbin-0263.jpg" width="213" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My real world even better, Alex working as a doc.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was just like yesterday, on the field and but a jock.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJAJP8vTbCuhv_kkl-3RBkV0Tsj6PelTpwRgV8Cr-YPMOg24kNSMMfeqEmUAOxTOFEwOGI7mPAnxKi-tKEqwFyQjdv6ZOACqjqJaRXag5vgB6HGZDdPujoHUOlguQ2Rgn7Ybgm36MOYo4/s1600/davegribbin_doctoralex.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJAJP8vTbCuhv_kkl-3RBkV0Tsj6PelTpwRgV8Cr-YPMOg24kNSMMfeqEmUAOxTOFEwOGI7mPAnxKi-tKEqwFyQjdv6ZOACqjqJaRXag5vgB6HGZDdPujoHUOlguQ2Rgn7Ybgm36MOYo4/s320/davegribbin_doctoralex.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">My girls, each independent and pursuing her own trail.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Young women moving forward, as is seen in their email.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Their texting, voice, and faces, </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">help me know their world’s all right.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I still see them in their youth, as I would tuck them in at night.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX_0kAHpicRM7_zMyO5PSWDBLjcU5YXre3Rw0zzu7b5klG1uVhIHIeqJ3ozQAIz9LtQQwK38U2i8L3-ubBcURjh7TQCAdX1PFo_lsWLNBaqcurX_Zbu-VrIhacaWoNGZXwhsGy8hEKGk4/s1600/davegribbin_havingfun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX_0kAHpicRM7_zMyO5PSWDBLjcU5YXre3Rw0zzu7b5klG1uVhIHIeqJ3ozQAIz9LtQQwK38U2i8L3-ubBcURjh7TQCAdX1PFo_lsWLNBaqcurX_Zbu-VrIhacaWoNGZXwhsGy8hEKGk4/s320/davegribbin_havingfun.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">My wife? We talk of travel. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">If we could find the time, we would.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The seasons ending much too fast, </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">more hiking would be good.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi74SziToYo3b6qUsmMeAzk7YmiEf4exYtqa9QXEAsf9z0RZgzo_mPGJKmCXt7tnu343eb-b3RmkcE-6GIgLbYP7cqmAn6V7B2IRHpGT0yc5d2sh8CqLpPhBvB7aLdZC6GNVcVIz98pTms/s1600/davegribbin_niceday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi74SziToYo3b6qUsmMeAzk7YmiEf4exYtqa9QXEAsf9z0RZgzo_mPGJKmCXt7tnu343eb-b3RmkcE-6GIgLbYP7cqmAn6V7B2IRHpGT0yc5d2sh8CqLpPhBvB7aLdZC6GNVcVIz98pTms/s320/davegribbin_niceday.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">We live so close to nature, it's seductive all the year.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Frequent efforts in our garden, simply snacks for all our deer.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Our skiing is quixotic, yet we still enjoy its charm.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just let us get off safely, pray not to buy the farm.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhocLFD6cS8Zh-mJKp6co6vtzu9wwPi1_fHHsshk5xmW9Z6r6uzhyKnF6n1b_NfILXI6iBMbtlVCx_N6UMfHBK4ufLz3RhlBQyyv3UMMUjpD_fKUFFG5TXxXGoMb6KfFfNSdiucD2Ba9ik/s1600/davegribbin_tetons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhocLFD6cS8Zh-mJKp6co6vtzu9wwPi1_fHHsshk5xmW9Z6r6uzhyKnF6n1b_NfILXI6iBMbtlVCx_N6UMfHBK4ufLz3RhlBQyyv3UMMUjpD_fKUFFG5TXxXGoMb6KfFfNSdiucD2Ba9ik/s320/davegribbin_tetons.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">A weekend in the Tetons. Need to do this all again.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just as nice to watch a sunset, sipping tonic and some gin.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCIc4CNxCozi43nzIqhgwnhYj_hdET-J-evsroEEtDm2m4J8XvaJuhiDXTM-Q4IUng4w_SDEUf0D37wDApVYwOef1CcWBoPVoSdzxnA0dQmjuLlltS-TRrfvvuaUuD4DHSeRVByRsD3l4/s1600/davegribbin_patio.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCIc4CNxCozi43nzIqhgwnhYj_hdET-J-evsroEEtDm2m4J8XvaJuhiDXTM-Q4IUng4w_SDEUf0D37wDApVYwOef1CcWBoPVoSdzxnA0dQmjuLlltS-TRrfvvuaUuD4DHSeRVByRsD3l4/s320/davegribbin_patio.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I must acknowledge something. I'm living in a dream.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">It's true you've all been vital, the 'friends and family' theme.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I keep finding things inspiring, </span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">though my eyes complain at times.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">So I force myself to sit down, </span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">feel each moment making rhymes.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Taking time to think of each of you, </span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">on this day and all year long.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: white; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just know I'm glad our paths have crossed. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: white; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I've felt this all along.</span></span></div>
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Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-24790169183629706342014-12-30T14:39:00.000-08:002015-01-15T15:04:18.009-08:00Reflections on 2014<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Days</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif2yu74VmYaxord8ggd6XCK4aQE5yW-dWh6NlGOKuRhmck4g4N-w9TOQJ4iwmRbZKkoyXL0a5bg8EOMNXWSf2Q0h9IowErrILg1Wh1XV11YZzDSAwgXT62u_r3KAn2uwt0cLWV-YIZ17Q/s1600/davegribbin-6198.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif2yu74VmYaxord8ggd6XCK4aQE5yW-dWh6NlGOKuRhmck4g4N-w9TOQJ4iwmRbZKkoyXL0a5bg8EOMNXWSf2Q0h9IowErrILg1Wh1XV11YZzDSAwgXT62u_r3KAn2uwt0cLWV-YIZ17Q/s1600/davegribbin-6198.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
'Twas a pink and blue
aurora, </div>
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not unlike all the rest,</div>
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Clouds, then snows on
peaks, </div>
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started peach toned, from the west.</div>
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Here and there were
houses, </div>
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some trees were warmed with lights,</div>
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Sun rising, lights turn
off, </div>
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pale snows then turn to whites.</div>
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Wisps of clouds unmoving </div>
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as they light up, changing hues,</div>
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The fire moves east to
west, </div>
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peach on blue, dynamic views.</div>
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With brisk sun, discrete
parts </div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
of the scene then take their turn.</div>
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Four elk to my south, </div>
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exhaled breaths all seem to burn.</div>
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Elk hide blends with
brush, </div>
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racks held up, they grace the sky,</div>
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My heart pounds as they
graze, </div>
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none trusts me, I know why.</div>
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The fire then subsides, </div>
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the scene now whites and grays.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Morning sun, behind
blankets, </div>
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distinct clouds now just a haze.</div>
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A day quite like all
others, </div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
each is prized in many ways.</div>
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Winds dance with sage and
branches, </div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
a leafless aspen sways.<br />
<br /></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZiGEQNM_08smAE-N51DltYmjSdPfiGve8M7843zqgtExB0uu6yelp_ZichNier3BdSfdXFuPolSG7p9M6Qy_MB5YqBkiT75ctUXVJqwavFHWA2aQSIvGqN3xIDG3YJcX4Zb5lL0rUrBM/s1600/davegribbin_elk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZiGEQNM_08smAE-N51DltYmjSdPfiGve8M7843zqgtExB0uu6yelp_ZichNier3BdSfdXFuPolSG7p9M6Qy_MB5YqBkiT75ctUXVJqwavFHWA2aQSIvGqN3xIDG3YJcX4Zb5lL0rUrBM/s1600/davegribbin_elk.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-67848260504745435662014-03-10T08:28:00.001-07:002014-03-10T08:28:16.387-07:00A rather wonderful memory<object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab" height="425" width="425"><param name="movie" value="https://images-community.shutterfly.com/flashapps/slideshow/slideshow-ui.swf"/><param name="flashvars" value="configXMLURL=https://images-community.shutterfly.com/flashapps/slideshow/config/config-share.xml&slideshowModuleURL=https://images-community.shutterfly.com/flashapps/slideshow/slideshow-module.swf&projectGUID=0Abt2jFi4ZN2gOhg&swfName=slideshowFlashContent&showReplay=true"/><param name="menu" value="false"/><param name="quality" value="best"/><param name="wmode" value="transparent"/><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"/><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"/><embed width="425" height="425" align="middle" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" name="wrapper" quality="best" menu="false" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" flashvars="configXMLURL=https://images-community.shutterfly.com/flashapps/slideshow/config/config-share.xml&slideshowModuleURL=https://images-community.shutterfly.com/flashapps/slideshow/slideshow-module.swf&projectGUID=0Abt2jFi4ZN2gOhg&swfName=slideshowFlashContent&showReplay=true" src="https://images-community.shutterfly.com/flashapps/slideshow/slideshow-ui.swf"></embed></object><br />
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Patrick and Amanda, October of 2012. Like yesterday.</div>
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Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-36309835820463886222013-12-31T13:37:00.000-08:002014-02-05T13:56:43.800-08:00The year 2013 in review<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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'Twas a few days before Christmas, another year bites the dust.</div>
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Four nieces report birth control was a bust.</div>
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Baby girls in our future, at least four, maybe five.</div>
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The next wave of cousins proof we were all once alive.</div>
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<br /></div>
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My own girls made merry pretty much as in years past,</div>
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Delicious routines which we all hope will last.</div>
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A trip here and there to see family and friend</div>
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And for those who came here, such fun times did we spend.</div>
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Skied with old friends a lot, thirty times (or more) last year.</div>
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Thankful we wore helmets. Thumbs up for all head gear.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We enjoyed some spring surprises, all the plants which came around.</div>
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Since our yard, it seems, is rock. Not much soil makes up our ground.</div>
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But hiking in the mountains always takes our breath away.</div>
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It's not because we're out of shape. It's aesthetic where we play.</div>
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We sample entertainment, never take a day for granted.</div>
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Wish but one thing. Some more success, with tomatoes we have planted.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Jamie's good friend Heather enjoyed her time up here.</div>
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Met loads of PC locals. Plans to come up every year.</div>
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Jamie shoots her buddies, has amassed a ton of snaps.</div>
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Senior photos have been awesome. A career is born, perhaps.</div>
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And Alex knows more buddies than even we have met thus far.</div>
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She paints the house, and helps out, and then heads out to the bar.</div>
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She's busy doing clerkships. Two months both near and far.</div>
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Learning how to treat her patients. Noting walks and gait bizarre.</div>
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Sweet Amanda and her Patrick too came up here for a bit.</div>
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Tried Olympic Park, the ropes course, testing whether we were fit.</div>
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And sat out at the alpine lakes, some chairs and lunch we had.</div>
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Some sun and leaping trout. All in all, I'd say, not bad.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The kids of several old friends, their weddings sure were great.</div>
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Learned to never trust the Garmin. Nearly sent us to our fate.</div>
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One-lane stone road in the mountains, much too steep for poor old Rav.</div>
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Our nerves were way too tense. Some big drinks then did we have.</div>
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Sure do enjoy our friends, wish we had more time to spend.</div>
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Drinking wine and sharing stories. Against Time, we must all fend.</div>
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Admit that what we treasure is not diamonds or bright gold,</div>
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It's not big cars or houses or investments that we've sold.</div>
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Keep in mind that it's Time that we treasure the most.</div>
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Pain free and healthy, we lift glasses, and we toast.</div>
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Wealth but a way we exchange Time and keep score.</div>
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We'd give all for the other, for good years, I'd be poor.</div>
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So choose to spend time or some money instead.</div>
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I'd choose Time every time, with our kids, like I've said.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Another year at a crossroads, my kids start their careers,</div>
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Explore north and then south, those uncharted frontiers.</div>
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My youngest looks at college in the Pacific Northwest,</div>
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Like her sisters she'll choose what she thinks will be best.</div>
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And new kinds of things have I tried with my art</div>
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Capture Dave's magnum opus, or more art a la carte.</div>
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Show results of hard work, every form as we see 'em,</div>
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Having as much fun as we can. As I've said, carpe diem.<br />
<br /></div>
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Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-16058359942195733822013-01-19T07:12:00.001-08:002014-02-05T14:00:24.131-08:00Elite Gymnasts<a href="http://animoto.com/play/Tx39z3rodS51oA963esvpg">Elite Gymnasts</a><br />
<br />
Gymnasts in the studio. They know no limits.<br />
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<br />Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-58466345295580348352012-12-30T08:59:00.000-08:002013-01-08T09:41:49.961-08:002012 Transitions<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://theatrearts.smugmug.com/Events/Family-Favorites/i-H3DMQF4/0/L/DSC_5535.psd-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://theatrearts.smugmug.com/Events/Family-Favorites/i-H3DMQF4/0/L/DSC_5535.psd-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">'Twas a year
with great change, now we're in our new place,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Old home's sale
to arrange, all our things boxed in space.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Our whole life
took a turn, years of things, all gone past,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Lots of new
things to learn, and each day goes by fast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Rugged
mountains at peace, like strong gymnasts with grace,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hard reserves
soft as fleece, light and clouds skim their face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So much there
to explore, weekly treks unsurpassed,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What's tonight
got in store? Purple sunsets don't last.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hot tub stars
sail on by, make our slopes seem so young,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Nightly smile
from our high, catch some flakes on your tongue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Very cold on
our cheeks, yet our muscles relax,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Neither one of
us speaks, deep slow breaths to the max.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The commute
every day with the mountains, each side,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Watch for moose
on the way, steer downhill, brakes applied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Karen drives
past the U, the VA on her left,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Inspirational
too, research ops, not bereft.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Every day,
something new, with top minds it's a breeze,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Each doc asks
for her view, which she offers with ease.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Afternoon up
the hill, back to mountain delights,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Never reaching
her fill, tackling new and great heights.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Alpine lakes
are close by, Crystal Lake favored most,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We take cheese
and some wine, raise our plastic to toast,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Private lake
with some deer, at most forty acres,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Forty minutes
from here, yet we, its sole takers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At ten thousand
feet high, a short hike to its shore,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Lake trout
really do fly, above the ice they explore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://theatrearts.smugmug.com/Events/Family-Favorites/i-xJ5Mqrs/0/L/Xmas1-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="164" src="http://theatrearts.smugmug.com/Events/Family-Favorites/i-xJ5Mqrs/0/L/Xmas1-L.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Right now the
thunder rolls, no storm around, just snow,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It's avalanche
controls, each boom shakes glass just so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Can't see the
tops of slopes, new clouds appear like foam,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We skiers build
our hopes, five minutes from our home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It's time to
use our pass, to ski each day we can,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ignore your
shaking mass, the thunder booms again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Summer, one day's tally, we did at least four parks,</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Saw sun rise in the valley, some pre-historic sharks,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Rivers snaking,
cutting, through a thousand feet of stone,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Climbing,
hiking, drinking, watching sun descend alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Silly Sundays
our routine, outdoor concerts on most nights,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sundance Films
must be seen, miles of trails, all at heights,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Farmers markets
and the arts, town parades, all come out,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Old hippies
with some money, how did this come about?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Most bring
munchies, cheese, and wine, to the city park to share,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mellow
afternoon, divine, no mosquitoes, not a care,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Perfect temp
and sun is out, air is thin, but that's okay,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Main Street
pubs, without a doubt, each unique and worth a stay.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Jamie at Egyptian, summer camps as teacher's aide,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Continues on
the stage, but more back than front, and paid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then Alex sold
our old place, back in Tulsa she did stay,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Fresh flowers
just in case, and then she sold it in a day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Drove Dad
through Arizona to our Utah home up high,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Defined our new
persona as we hiked up to the sky.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then off to
school again so she could learn her carnal craft,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">PT adrenaline,
and with friends, a shot, or draft.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Of course our
biggest dreams (and most came true this year),<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Patrick with
Amanda beams, their lives as one, sincere.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We lifted up
our glasses, toasted with Swarovsky fluted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Amanda planned
her party, added Oklahoma weather,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The food and
drink were hearty, nice words were said together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Couldn't help
but recall when, my wife and I just started,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">All the other
smiles back then, of many faces, since departed,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So much love we
share together, and to see it in one place,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Reminds me
we're all tethered, in a happy kind of space.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Facetimed, we
share our smiles, it helps the longing ease,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Helps us ignore
the miles, we can visit when we please.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Do enjoy each
time we hug, feel each breath, please make it last,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Electric love,
life's drug, when it sparks, it goes too fast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I love you all,
I've said it. Just in case you did not know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The clouds return. I edit.
To the mountaintop I go.</span></div>
Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-40084529866342787412010-02-12T07:41:00.000-08:002018-10-04T08:36:03.652-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Events/Family-Favorites/DSC6798/752300751_uZBFu-L.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 481px; height: 600px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Events/Family-Favorites/DSC6798/752300751_uZBFu-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">It's Valentine's Day. Again. <i>(Think Bill Murray in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Groundhog's</span></span> Day.)</i></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">Everybody knows that time goes by way too fast. The shockingly depressing thing is that, even if you enjoy every possible minute of it, it still goes by too quickly. Even if you're able to cut back on your work hours and enjoy every instant of whatever it is that truly inspires you, it all just ends too soon.</span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">And memories of all those good times eventually all blend together.</span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">So, unless you want to create a poster board wall calendar and record every day's events (which I did for ten years), or write in your journal or blog (also important but very time consuming), you'd better force yourself to photograph every day of your life. Take stills and video. Organize them by year, and then by some other descriptive category. Make back-ups on new media as it's developed. Most importantly, remember that the mundane is just as important as the births, weddings, reunions, and parties.</span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">One of my favorite videos is now a twenty year old clip of a typical day in the life of my daughter. I simply followed her inside of and around our house while she explored and played with anything and everything. Know that a fifteen minute interview and visual history of a two year old will encompass more than you can imagine after she's grown, you've moved away from your first house, or when you discover that things have irrevocably changed.</span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">I feel a poem coming on.</span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></span></b></div><div><b>"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Brefkissed</span></span>"</b></div><div><br /></div><div>Our daughter's name for our morning meal,</div><div>And for which her parents never corrected her.</div><div>Classmates not amused by her creativity did.</div><div><br /></div><div>It doesn't last long enough.</div><div>The benign lisp came, then was gone.</div><div>Big brown eyes and very <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">blonde</span></span> hair, they're</div><div>No longer wearing out knees in their jeans.</div><div>Shin guards and thin <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">leos</span></span> proof of sports long outgrown.</div><div>Carpet and other stains evidence of advice ignored,</div><div>Left as proud trophies of growth and independence.</div><div>Our house a collection of stuffed dreams and toys, waiting.</div><div>Drawers and closets of memories.</div><div>Every coat, every outfit with a story, or two.</div><div><br /></div><div>Take our bag of donations now, before I change my mind.</div><div>No longer a reason to save the old land phone number,</div><div>The caller who recalled its odd cadence now gone.</div><div>Others will speed dial or refer to a list.</div><div>I hear the wind, and the ticking of the clock.</div><div>Bird songs reassuring in their daily appearance.</div><div>All else changes.</div><div><br /></div><div>Looking forward to another spring with my love,</div><div>With whom I'm about half way through our journey.</div><div>No longer is our time or path well scripted.</div><div>Our kids are nearly to the point where</div><div>Their own paths will be chosen and</div><div>Their own stories will be told.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Talk me in" to my bed one last time,</div><div>Better yet, let me tuck you in next to me</div><div>So that we can create our next chapter.</div><div><br /></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-59527430991479978212009-12-24T14:09:00.000-08:002010-01-05T06:10:40.253-08:00Holiday Wishes 2009<table style="width:auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/_omMnFx4QoB-lbu-wxIlMQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5mzUBfARZUflEzIi8EFt4NiY7DEWxS5HHvPHKDcaG70mBExMrVhzfhAv4p1YUlX_yZPuXQmQHiyGWX0ABU852By2W-vm3lIUYp4Lqos6isY7FhyphenhyphenNXtn4B1ZiNNRiGzCtI3MzEle21LE/s400/DSC_0630.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/davegribbin.com/FamilyGroupShots?feat=embedwebsite">Family Group Shots</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">It’s </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">been quite a while since I’ve sat with my pen,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And marked down how I’ve felt of the year once again,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">All that makes me both happy and sad through the year.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Prefer good times much more, and treat sad with some beer.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Wondered what I would name my next book</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">1</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> at the mall,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Chose to limit my writing to friends like you all.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And apologize fully for years I have dwelt,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">On fixing those things in my life I’d been dealt.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">2</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Collected all parts of my heart, proved its heft,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Must remind good old Dave of light years he has left.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And it’s light I have found, with my camera and eye,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Captured beauty and moments too fine to let fly,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Many more I have missed or misplaced on a drive</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">3</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">All told they are proof we were all once alive.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My words work well too, hence my annual note</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">4</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“Remember old Grandpa? Lookie here what he wrote ”</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Glad </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">my heart is still pumping, had some odd rhythm once,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Started the year with shaved chest, suppose some day, some shunts.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Must remember that friends matter more than my frets,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My sweet girls</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">5</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, and my wife</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">6</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, heaven’s sake, no regrets.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The talent they show really raises the bar.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Each adds so much flavor to my great life thus far.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Our calendar</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">7</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"> </span>proof of what fills me with smiles,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Twelve shrinking months from my eye and its files.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Great scenes which move me from now ‘til I’m old,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">From the thousands of scenes I have captured, some sold<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">8</span></span>.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Many scenes could I write a thousand words more,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And my blog</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">9 </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">a new outlet, hope it’s there not to bore. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Its visual tale of our China explore,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And to showcase some photos which I simply adore.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Like the sites I have made over last decade past,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">To both help out some good folks and show work I’ve amassed.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And the good folks at Google like to give me two cents,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Every time you click on my links. Hint: <i>So commence.</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Force </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">yourself to reflect on the year that you’ve had,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Take a breath and think back on the things made you glad.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They might come again. Or might not. No one knows,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Guess that’s the whole point of my holiday prose.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">All I know is I’m glad of the friends I have now,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There are things we could do if but Time would allow.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There are things about Age I don’t yet understand,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Will it be aches or my knee which change all I have planned?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Or demands which I feel as the lone patriarch,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In my estrogen filled house and there’s me in the dark.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Guess that’s why we love Star Trek in all of its glory,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Now in past, present, future, each a great little story,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It’s a tale of great hope, like I still have for mankind,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Deals with travel in time and with folks much less blind,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Seems their daily decisions take a longer term view,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And the light bulbs go off as they think the thing through.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Wish the life we’ve accepted and watch daily on news,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Were as thoughtful and pensive and much less likely to ooze</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">10</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Should </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I out source this card so it arrives without fail,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Less dependent on schedules and when it gets in the mail?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I let Raja control the new laptop afar</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Brand new out of its box, yet its burner bizarre,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I watched as my cursor moved all by itself.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">New meaning to Santa and his need for an elf</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Since this Dell was intended for use Christmas Day.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The returns lady said, “Absolutely no way.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Not a one left in town, and it cannot be shipped</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In time for a present as this one is equipped.”</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">So </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I plugged it back in and tried all of my tricks,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I downloaded drivers in an effort to fix</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The computer from China and Raja just south</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As he used his mouse rather than using his mouth.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It took him some time as I drank some Merlot,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">By the time he was done, it was fit for a bow </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Very thankfully typed him that he’d made it like new,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Which of course it had been, its first worldly debut.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">‘Twas the week before Christmas, and here in my house,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Was an elf from afar, and a magical mouse.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My daughter will now have a laptop that works,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">CD-ROM spinning blithely and now free of quirks.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Back </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">to my dilemma, brought on by remorse</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">To send you late wishes or simply out source.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Please accept that I’m late as you have oft before,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Remember the season, your passions and yore.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And click on my websites like Rudolf’s tan hoofs,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Click away, click away like his buddies on roofs.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Look around and sigh deeply each time you feel good,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Wave into the camera, show some teeth as you should,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Wide eyes and act pleased to be present again,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Since not one crystal ball can answer us when.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Footnotes</span></b></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">1 Titles briefly under consideration were Going Rogue (noun: a deceitful and unreliable scoundrel; one who is playfully mischievous), Waxing Rapscallion (same def), or Viscerally Yours (obtained through intuition rather than from reasoning or observation)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">2 Sister (2005); dad and aunt (2006); mom, good friend, and worthless brother (2007); Ohio limited partnership and faithful dog (2008); several lawsuits as yet unresolved</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">3 Most recent external hard drive (1.5Tb=1,500Gb=several million times more storage than the hard drive on the second computer I bought after finishing college. The first didn’t have one.) </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">4 Annual holiday poems date from the last century, circa 1990. How compulsive and weird is that?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">5 Amanda returned from Portland in March. Worked teaching at Holland Hall during spring, at Riverwalk restaurants during summer, and now again at Holland Hall teaching preschoolers while working on her Masters in Social Work at OU here in Tulsa. Alex enjoyed spring semester in Beijing (and in various other parts of <a href="http://photos.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK/1/556881408_kmHTp">China</a>) and then July and frequent visits at home while not at DePauw in Greencastle, Indiana completing her senior year. Jamie is now in eighth grade and a teenage actress and talented liaison.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">6 Karen completed her first year as Chief of Staff without incident. Well, almost, if you don’t include some bold changes in personnel. The remaining physicians praise her as being the best boss they’ve ever had. They had better. If Jamie’s schedule were less busy, Dave would accompany Karen more often when she graced the scenic locales of Houston, Dallas, Biloxi, Jackson, Nashville, New Orleans, Orlando, Washington DC, Las Vegas, San Jose, Seattle, Minneapolis, Cincinnati, or Chicago. Actually did break away to visit Chicago for several very good reasons (see March photo).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">7 Available in most fine stores. See footnote 11.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">8 Calendar cover art and September photo document a successful <a href="http://photos.davegribbin.com/Events/Oktoberfest/10064700_W6PGp/1/690218258_XvBA3">surprise party</a>, a celebration of Karen's 50th birthday, during corporate night of Oktoberfest. Poor kid never saw it coming. Cap it off with a week spent in <a href="http://photos.davegribbin.com/Photography/Barbados/10361366_RHD6k#717187343_E6EyT">Barbados </a>and the realization that more than half your life is behind you doesn't hurt quite as much.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">8a Family photo at the top of the post is missing Chris and Wade only because, although difficult, everybody else showed common sense and adhered to the old saying, "Don't bring Grandma and Grandpa from the nursing home intoTulsa's first ever Christmas Eve blizzard."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">9 http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">10 Going Rogue</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">11 Gullibility test complete if you believe 7 or are still looking for 8 or 8a. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">12 Mustn’t forget: </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Have Fun, Be Happy, Make a Difference® </span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">©2009 Dave Gribbin</span></b></div><div><br /></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-67601311671283289532009-06-01T04:34:00.000-07:002018-10-04T08:35:05.266-07:006/1 Good bye Beijing<a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK/1/#556886275_Wndc7-A-LB"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1374/556886275_Wndc7-M.jpg"></a><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p>I paid our small initial bar tab using Monopoly money, so technically I guess there's no record that we'd ever been to the Beijing Doubletree, except that they had our passport numbers. So did half of Beijing, by this point. Karen and I leisurely left the hotel at 6 am, the minimal traffic allowing our taxi to get us to the airport within about 45 minutes, a couple of hours before our scheduled departure. Security was routine, since we'd decided to check our two bags along with Alex's large suitcase of winter clothes (and some special gift items, which I was still concerned might cause interference with the jet's electronic equipment or, just as bad, cause a fire), making our only carry-ons our trusty backpacks. Four hours to Tokyo, and then six more sitting around the Tokyo airport. The 12 hour flight had been delayed for an extra hour due to "mechanical problems," since no air traveler would argue that it would make sense to ignore a warning light before take off. [We could just as easily have had an tragic experience near the Arctic Circle as apparently happened to an Air France jumbo jet in the Atlantic at about the same time as our flight.] The delay caused us to miss our connection in Detroit, but Northwest used surprising aptitude and rerouted us on a couple of other planes to get us (and our luggage) back to Tulsa before midnight. Again, I could have just said we left Monday morning and got in Monday evening. There can be such a distortion of truth in brevity.</p> <p>Oh, and 300 or so more photos (many in high resolution) are available by going to my site, <a href="http://www.davegribbin.com">www.davegribbin.com</a> and choosing "Galleries" and then "China" (or try the following quick link):</p> <p><a href="http://theatrearts.smugmug.com/gallery/8280957_bCTNK#556881408_kmHTp">http://theatrearts.smugmug.com/gallery/8280957_bCTNK#556881408_kmHTp</a></p> <p>Alex plans to upload all the fun cooking school photos for the benefit of our fellow students under "China Cooking" (hopefully soon). Just ignore the multiple hoses fanning out from the propane tanks.</p> <p>I've tried to recount our adventure as clearly and completely as possible, and have not made anything up. I don't know if we left as good an impression on the hundreds of people we met in China as they did upon us, but I like to think we did. So I think we accomplished our mission to have fun, be happy, and make a difference. And everybody knows now what I think of the food.</p></span>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-68902881976594521392009-05-31T04:28:00.000-07:002018-10-04T08:34:24.902-07:005/31 Forbidden City all to ourselves<a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK/1/#556885749_etF2D-A-LB"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1199/556885749_etF2D-S.jpg"></a><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"></span></p><p>Although the Beijing sun rose at about 4:30, and it was fairly light at 6, we decided to sleep in a bit longer. It turned out we overslept until about 8, so we got a late start to go to Tsinghua University. The first cab driver declined to take us and we never could guess at the reason. It took a few moments to find a driver who agreed to take us. The traffic was awful, since many people had been expected to work on Sunday because, after all, they had all had a three day vacation for the Dragon Boat festival (which I discovered was an official holiday tradition for all of only two years). It was indeed celebrated more vigorously down south where we had been a few days earlier. The fare was high (Y61), since the written Chinese characters I'd given the driver for directions sent us to the wrong gate, again, and I called Alex and had her talk with the nice driver, who told me "That's cool" in English. Not being able to use simple phrases in the local language like "Sorry about that" or "Excuse me" or "How's it going" or "Where can I wash my hands" makes a person feel impotent.</p> </span><p><span style="font-family:Arial;"><br /><a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK/1/#556885769_t2RKM-A-LB"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1209/556885769_t2RKM-S.jpg"></a><br />We felt like we'd met the days expectations of us after checking in at the foreign student dorm's front desk and showing our passports (our passports had never been through such a rigorous two weeks as they did while we were in China). Alex was video conferencing with Jamie as we walked into her Apartment 644. It was Jamie's Saturday night at about 9 pm, and she was telling us about how she was handling being alone just fine until Amanda would be off work and home at about 2 am. I did a few quick things on e-mail and we grabbed a cab for the Olympic Park </span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> near the National Stadium (the Bird's Nest Stadium). The driver took us to the northernmost park entrance, which rarely was used by anybody, since the subway only ran to the southern entrance to the park. We were fine, because we'd hoped to be able to walk through the entire park, which only nine months after the Olympics was already beginning to be reclaimed by nature. It was very empty, something which could be rarely said about anything within Beijing's city limits. </span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> We explored a large deck overlooking a chain of interconnected ponds. </span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> As you'd expect to find in any part of the world, the koi heard us coming and all congregated near us in the hopes that we'd toss out a snack or two. A token older woman was performing tai chi in the shade behind us, and continued her ritual by the water's edge without word. It was wonderfully peaceful. As we walked southward, we did begin to see more people, mostly locals, who'd come to appreciate the varied flowering shrubs and trees. Several electric vehicles shuttled small groups from here to there, but the most memorable pair was a grandpa and his grandson strolling along with a fishing pole. He was singing a folksong in his most beautiful, loving voice as they walked over a bridge together, oblivious to the "foreign devils" watching them. I wish I'd pulled out the camera, but as had happened in so many other instances during our trip, I didn't want to intrude on something without a better understanding of its importance to my subjects. I've lost some great shots because of this sensitivity, but I feel good knowing why they went uncaptured.</span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;"><br /><a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK/1/#556885709_bgmkM-A-LB"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1189/556885709_bgmkM-S.jpg"></a><br />After a bit of confusion (silly us, believing the park signage directing us to the south exit might be accurate), we successfully made our way past the much more grand southern entrance and the vendors (absent at the north gate) and after a few photos with the Bird's Nest Stadium as backdrop, entered the subway, still sparkling from its Olympic debut. We boarded our private car and I photographed through the open doors in each direction to the other sparsely occupied cars. In all, there may have been a dozen people on the 12:30 </span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> departure on Line 8 heading south. As Alex had warned us, that didn't last but a few stops, and by the time we'd transferred to two different lines, we'd been standing like sardines with the other thousands of early afternoon commuters. Alex wanted us to experience one of her favorite lunch places, even though it meant that we'd have to buy a few more subway tickets afterward to continue on, but we felt we could afford the additional 2 yuan. The featured treat was the "dessert" of purple rice stuffed into a hollowed out pineapple which capped off another of our very good stir fry meals. We never identified the intermittent mystery sound, which could have simply been the main burner from the kitchen stoves, but sounded more like a fire breathing dragon at an amusement park. Back on the subway, we rode to the Forbidden City / Tiananmen Square exit and started another marathon walk. </span></p> <p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;"><br /><a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK/1/#556885968_HNfwY-A-LB"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1283/556885968_HNfwY-S.jpg"></a><br />Alex amusingly kept track of each category of vendor as we were approached, again having reminded me specifically not to make eye contact or acknowledge them in any fashion. She walked with purpose past the menagerie to the innermost ticket booth, where we bought three tickets to enter the Forbidden City. We made for the national pottery collection, which was spectacular (the fact that it was air conditioned was an added bonus). I'd never seen as many six thousand year old vases and vessels which looked to be in such good shape. We lost track of time, and suddenly were faced with the fact that all would be closing in about 40 minutes. So we continued deeper and deeper into the realm of royalty, noting as we progressed the ubiquitous appearance of substantial thresholds, just like those we'd seen at every other archeological site in China. It seems the ancient Chinese didn't want to admit anybody who couldn't step over and clear an 8" wooden beam. Again, we felt eerily alone, for unlike even Alex's prior experience there, there were very few people within the Forbidden City (and later at Tiananmen Square, except for military sorts and a bunch of people who were likely plain clothes security people). The Forbidden City was virtually empty, with the exception of a couple of small tourist groups and a few stragglers like ourselves. [It reminded me of how Ghirardelli Square felt in March, 2003. We found very few people while on a visit there too. Turns out 450 Iraq war protestors had been arrested a couple of days earlier, so things had become very quiet in San Francisco. With the 20th anniversary of the uprising at Tiananmen on June 4, and recent media control and police supervision of the plaza by Chinese authorities, the explanation for how few people were there on May 31 might be self-evident.] We took photos as if we were private guests and didn't try to explain our good fortune. I'm hesitant to post the photos with my typical honest captions until Alex arrives home at the end of June.</span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;"><br /><a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK/1/#556886060_SAbxU-A-LB"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1307/556886060_SAbxU-S.jpg"></a><br />Speaking of good fortune, did I mention how many lanes of traffic (4 of cars and 3 of buses and taxis) in each direction separated the Forbidden City and Tiananmen? [This was the fourteen lane street where the famous "tank man" stood to block passage of the army tanks.] Fortunately, there were pedestrian subways so that nobody had to cross the street, though pedestrian/vehicle challenges seemed to work safely everywhere else in China. We called Steven and needed to find a bus in order to meet up with him. After I noticed a dozen painted aisles on the sidewalk with (apparently) bus numbers for each lane, I suggested to Alex that we ask one of the many microphoned bus announcers standing at attention how we might best achieve our destination. She was very helpful, and before we could find the correct number on the sidewalk, we saw Bus 81 pulling in front of the many other buses curbside. We made a frantic dash to jump on, and conveniently I had a Y1 note for each of us. We stood all the way and luckily noticed that we'd reached our cross street, so we jumped off. Many of the conspicuous, large green and white street signs in this part of Beijing which Westerners might assume give you the cross street instead feature a vertical arrow which then indicates what street you are already traveling on. Upon reflection, it was a useful device for those of us who weren't sure if we were indeed traveling north or east. The signs for the cross streets were less noticeable, but I credit Alex for preventing us from taking the bus back to the Great Wall. </span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;"><br /><a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK/1/#556886071_jXEnV-A-LB"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1312/556886071_jXEnV-S.jpg"></a><br />Alex wanted to walk along the north boundary of the Forbidden City in order to show us the moat which originally surrounded the entire complex (but was no longer visible from the main entrance). I couldn't help but imagine the multiple lines of defense which would have made a successful attack throughout most of history all but impossible. I pictured archers with powerful crossbows on top of the walls within the moat, and was fairly confident that few people had been crazy enough to even try to scale the smooth sides after a midnight swim. A couple of rickshaw drivers with broken, but decent, English tried very hard to convince us to hire them, but I remembered one of the few phrases Alex taught me and said "gwong y gwong" which elicited a laugh and him saying "Just want to stroll, huh?"</span></p> <span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p><br /><a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK/1/#556886116_BrHxT-A-LB"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1334/556886116_BrHxT-S.jpg"></a><br />That was exactly what we wanted, so they let us pass. Near the midway point of the northern border we crossed the street, heading north again, up yet another street to the entrance to a great park where we met Steven, who had just ridden his bicycle from work. We entered the very popular park and were greeted first by a display of miniature Gingko trees, done bonsai style, in various shaped planters. As we gwong y gwonged, we passed a number of musicians, some sitting alone playing stringed instruments (the Chinese erhu) and others just singing away a capella. Three older men had their own karaoke set up and were leading a group of seventy or so older park guests in a patriotic song in memory of fallen soldiers, according to Steven. It was an example of another of the countless things that you just don't see any more in the US, except in old musicals starring Bob Hope or Bing Crosby. These people all had soft, melodic voices, which together had some volume, but not a one had the distinctive growl of Beijing Mandarin. We were a little discouraged that Steven wanted us to yet again climb more stairs to ascend to the top of the temple, from which all of Beijing could be seen. Apparently, when the moat around the Forbidden City was built, all the dirt was piled on top of an old Mongol conqueror’s tomb, thus creating this wonderful hill and another opportunity for future tourists to climb steps. It was another one of Alex and Steven's recommendations which was top notch. We got to see the sunset on an atypically clear day over the capital city, and got a bird's eye view to the south over the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square.</p> <p><br /><a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK/1/#556886103_HtREb-A-LB"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1333/556886103_HtREb-S.jpg"></a><br />We trekked back down, swearing once again that we would not climb any more tombs, walls, temples, or towers on this trip, and passed five older folks kicking a hackey sack badminton birdie back and forth as gracefully as dancers. They'd laugh at the person who infrequently missed the return or kicked it poorly. It was again very peaceful, and helped me to understand how this culture could make such a big deal about drinking some hot tea. </p> </span><p><span style="font-family:Arial;"><br /><a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK/1/#556886248_btHnD-A-LB"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1363/556886248_btHnD-S.jpg"></a><br />We found Steven's bicycle locked among countless others, and after kindly refusing more post cards and books (of which we never bought any), we walked towards the most anticipated dinner of our entire visit at the Hot Pot Restaurant which has</span> <span style="font-family:Arial;">a more formal name I can't recall. Lots of red and gold and wood and copper, and an entourage of Chinese businessmen entertaining a treasured guest donning a white suit, white shoes, and white beard, all of whom passed us on their way into the separate and very private dining room, right out of a Humphrey Bogart and Peter Lorre black and white film. The four of us each had what seemed to be our own personal waitress, each with a plastic embossed name tag with Chinese characters and then the English "No" and her number. [I'd grown to like the Anglicized names like "Sophie" or "Nancy" or "Wendy" or "Annabel" or "Jerry" which most of the service folk we'd met had adopted, and was a little offended that I'd have to ask Number 619 to again fill my tiny glass with beer from the bottle sitting right next to me or scoop fat from my individual copper bundt pot of boiling water which I'd been parboiling various offerings of meat, vegetables, fungi, and tofu.] But I still smiled at each of them, No one and all, since they too seemed so pleased to be doing their duties and attentive to our every need or desire. The crazy thing was that tips are not expected, nor does anyone seem to give them. The service comes because it's expected as part of the job. And they really seem eager to do their jobs well. I still can't answer if it's because of the culture, or because they know that there are probably ten more Chinese who would love to have their jobs if they don't do it well. But it was a good meal, and like all others we ate with Steven, we never left hungry. Steven insisted on picking up the tab, and after some hesitation, we graciously accepted. Turned out to be the one time in history that he underestimated the tab, but he refused to accept anything from us. So I like to think that I took care of the tip.</span></p><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p>Steven also presented us with a wonderful parting memento, Natural China, a book of beautiful nature photography published by his own Nature Conservancy, to remember our time with him and with Alex. I'd often wondered, watching Steven and Alex walking on ahead of us during various times around Beijing, how things work---that Steven and Alex end up, if only for a brief period, on the other side of our planet to create memories together, in much the same way that Amanda's and Bryan's lives overlapped for a time in Portland. It made me wonder what coincidences might be held in our future and thankful for those that we'd already enjoyed. And I thought of how I'd been able to witness all of it so far, and realized that I needed to write about it as well as photograph it in an attempt to really get as much flavor out of it as possible. So I guess that's my excuse for writing so much about things which other people could probably have said more concisely. [Ironically, my journal of our trip to China might be the one time where I could have simply and appropriately said, "The food is good."]</p> <p><br /><a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK/1/#556886182_ra77w-A-LB"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1356/556886182_ra77w-S.jpg"></a><br />Parting with Steven was easy because he looked so happy. He had matured into a really neat guy and one with whom I was very proud to have shared our lives. Plus, I knew he'd be visited in a few months by Bryan's family as well as his mom and Tom, and that we'd see him again over Christmas back in Tulsa. Parting with Alex was much more difficult, even though I knew we'd see her in just a few weeks. She came back to the Doubletree to see our room and to spend a little more time together, but both she and Karen started to get really tired really quickly. I walked Alex down to her taxi, a bit of small talk to delay saying the important things we really wanted to say, and then just as her tears had welled up, I was able to croak out how much I really loved her, which is easier to print on a Valentine's coffee cup than it is to say as you're motioning to a Chinese taxi driver to take away one of the most important gifts of your life. I knew it was futile, but I still assessed the cabbie and memorized his license number as she quickly climbed into the front seat and headed off into the darkness. But I also knew that if she could handle Beijing, she can handle anything which life might throw at her. It made the trip back to 1539 more manageable, and I felt good.</p> <p><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/06/61-good-bye-beijing.html">Depart Beijing</a></p></span>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-70761881423618404012009-05-30T04:14:00.000-07:002018-10-04T08:32:10.815-07:005/30 The Simatai section of the Great Wall is worth the risk<p><span style="font-family:Arial;">Alex was on Skype with a friend and kind of forgot that she said she'd come back to the hotel at 9 am. At 9:30, I called and learned that she hadn't yet left the campus. When she finally arrived, we met her downstairs, and less than five minutes later Steven appeared. We lounged a few minutes in the comfort of some high backed couches, and then set off in search of breakfast. It was a bit of a hunt, since the hotel was in a southwest part of Beijing not known for a plethora of restaurants. </span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> But Steven is very resourceful and found us an unmarked eatery. Since it was now closer to lunch time, and since he and I agreed that every Chinese meal goes better with beer, we called it lunch and ordered a whole lot of food and some beer. We struggled to find a driver willing to take the afternoon to take us to a remote section of the Great Wall, but as I said, Steven is resourceful. We negotiated the drive there (which we estimated as two hours), a couple of hours wait, and the return for an agreed upon price of Y650, more than we'd hoped but far less than most drivers were asking. The weather was in the mid-seventies and mostly sunny, and most importantly, the air was very clear. Our driver was friendly enough, made so by Steven sitting in the front seat visiting fluently with him. The trip up to the mountains was so restful and I felt like I'd become accustomed to seeing Chinese life, so I actually dozed off several times. Then I realized how irritated our driver had become because the area Steven had bargained for turned out to be a lot farther than the driver imagined. Steven was translating some of the comments made by the driver, and it was not sounding as hopeful as it had when we'd started out. We turned into an entrance and the driver called over to a guy standing in the middle of the road to come over. We determined that this was the road to one area of the Great Wall, and since the next entrance was 20km farther north, this would be the one we were taking, in spite of the fact that Steven wasn't altogether convinced that this was the one we had heard was so great. Nonetheless, as we approached, we saw hints that the portion of the wall to which we were headed was situated along some fairly majestic peaks. The dry, clear blue skies contrasted sharply with the mountains which, if they hadn't been so green, could have been an area northeast of Scottsdale. Of course, instead of pueblos were hutongs on the road leading up to the mountains. The driver let us off and agreed to be there when we came back, which we'd said would be around four o'clock. He'd demanded a rather substantial deposit, which Steven wisely cut in half after exchanging phone numbers. </span></p><br /><a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK/1/#556885427_vH8F8-A-LB"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1085/556885427_vH8F8-S.jpg"></a><br /><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">We decided to take the lift up the mountain, so we bought one way tickets in addition to paying the entrance fees. Each car of the lift carried two people, so Karen and I jumped in first and Alex and Steven brought up the rear. There were not many people. In fact, as we were to soon discover, we'd come to a part of the Great Wall on a beautiful, sunny Saturday afternoon which featured more vendors than there were tourists. We couldn't believe our good fortune (except that each tourist became more highly sought by each vendor) as we climbed higher and higher toward the crest of the mountains. Unfortunately, the lift ended well before we'd reached the top, and we climbed an additional couple of</span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> thousand feet to reach the wall, being trailed by one mysterious vendor who shadowed us stair by stair for a majority of the climb. He’d stop and wait every time we stopped to catch our breath. Even having grown accustomed to Chinese sense of space, this began to grow on all our nerves. It became worse as he continued to follow us, lock step, as we explored many segments of the Great Wall. And I became frustrated at the fact that my ability to tell him how I felt was limited to hello, thank you, and the food is good. But just before I had decided to risk life and limb and push him over the wall into a Mongolian abyss, Steven talked with the man's wife, who had also joined us by this time and was trying to sell us the kinds of books, postcards, and other valuable commodities for which we'd purposefully traveled seven thousand miles and climbed seven thousand steps. </span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> He explained that we really were not in the market for anything except maybe a really cold beverage, of which there were none, so that the man's time would be better spent pestering the Europeans farther up the wall (which had been the solution which I'd suggested to Alex, that if any vendor approached me asking if I wanted a whatever, that I'd respond with a "No" but then point to a distant stranger and say something like "but Rolf, there, he's looking for a good tour guide" and then walk away). And it worked brilliantly. The guy finally left and we got to enjoy a desolate stretch of the Great Wall of China. Although, "enjoy" might be at times a euphemism for "almost die on" or "nearly fell to my death" on. We'd experienced steep risers and narrow steps throughout China, but now it was possible to fall to your death within a few steps to the right, to the left, and straight ahead of you. To make it even more exciting, a gale force wind from right to left greeted us as we emerged from every guard house, many of which looked like they'd been successfully battered by those same winds for centuries, and some were in such bad shape that we were forced to detour around them on a narrow path.</span> </p> <a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK/1/#556885533_GzUiG-A-LB"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1139/556885533_GzUiG-S.jpg"></a><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">There were no other tourists here for a reason, it seemed. My knees and legs already ached, and I knew Karen felt the same. Unfortunately, I think even Alex and Steven were showing signs of fatigue (which reinforced the fact that we were pushing our aged bodies to their limit), and we weren't even sure as we walked for what seemed like miles down the wall that we wouldn't reach the </span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> separation between cliffs (where there was now a narrow rope bridge that I sure as hell was not going to traverse) and have to turn around and then climb all the way back up to where we'd started in order to then get back down to where the lift had dropped us. On the one hand, it was magnificent. </span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> On the other, I was wondering how many sets of tourist bones were scattered along those mountains which had gone unrecovered. [We later learned that a friend of Steven's had camped along the wall not far from here and had her entire bag, cell phone, passport, gear and all, blow off the wall and vanish, unrecoverable, far far below. Forever.] To add a relatively minor stress, it was 4:15 and we were still near the apex of the journey. But did that stop us from some fun photos? Heck no! We were still commenting on Steven's recent <a href="http://www.vimeo.com/4850005" target="_blank"> stellar performance at the Expat Show in Beijing</a>, and asked him for some pointers on posing as a Chinese opera star (which he and a buddy had performed for two days to the delight of thousands of Chinese attendees---they were the hit of the show---see http://www.vimeo.com/4850005 and give it a moment to load). So we have various combinations of opera poses (and Dave as a Mongol warrior, though</span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> I think I look more Manchurian) on top of the Great Wall. No photo compared to Steven's opera debut, but we attributed that to the fact that they'd paid a guy 800 yuan to spend two days covering them with make-up in full authentic Chinese costumes (which Steven complained were not at all comfortable for a person of his height). </span> </p> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;">We eliminated any more photo shoots and purposefully forced ourselves to make better time going down. We estimated that if we were lucky, we'd get back to the drop off area at about 5 pm, and that the taxi driver might still be there, and if not, we might be able to find others to get us at least part of the way back. We marched. We stepped. Our calves and feet were burning, since the steps became so steep at times that the Chinese authorities actually installed the one and only safety device I'd seen on our entire trip to China, a steep steel ladder with handrails. Our spirits lifted after we confirmed that we were indeed on the correct route by talking with an English speaking pair who were climbing in the reverse direction. Our pace quickened, if only for a few steps, and then the pain returned. Poor Alex had worn flip flops, which caused us even greater concern. But we were making really good time and finally arrived at a side path which had just recently been completed and was populated by, you guessed it, lots of local vendors. A group of college kids were keeping the drink vendors busy, so we made our getaway. A short distance later, we saw a zip line which offered to whisk us most of the way down the trail for only Y40 each, but Steven and Dave felt that we'd already pushed our luck for the day. Karen more than Alex really wanted to show that she had faith in the Chinese safety commission and didn't seem to understand that this attraction was probably run by a relative of the guy who'd followed us morosely for thirty minutes just a while earlier. So we walked on, and were relieved after we saw that takers of the zip line trip were probably taken again at the bottom, since there was no trail out for them. They probably had to pay another Y40 each for the boat ride to shuttle them out to the park exit. In the alternative, they'd still be listening to the vendors' sales pitches. </span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;">Our driver was located via Steven's cell. He was in a particularly jocular frame of mind, given that we were over an hour late for our scheduled return. It seems he'd made a particularly clever purchase of some fish, and he'd made a friend of another taxi driver, and he'd probably found some rice wine, because he was just giddy and so pleased that he'd spent a beautiful afternoon in the mountains (which is what Steven told him to expect in the first place). We started back, and as he had done on the way up the mountain, displayed his propensity to pass slower vehicles both on the left and the right. We'd grown accustomed to beginning to pass a vehicle at the same point that Westerners would feel compelled to return to one's proper lane to avoid the unfortunate and often painful head on collision. Yet we survived in spite of odds stacked against us. Karen insisted that I stop taking photos from the car, because every time I had the camera out and was ready to click the shutter, the driver would turn and stare at me or at what I was going to photograph and not look at the road ahead of us. He did so regardless of our speed or the winding road, and probably would have even done so while passing, but I couldn't bring myself to test this theory. As it was, we hit over 180 km per hour on the tollway for much of the remote parts. My already taxed brain recorded that driving in a taxi at over 110 mph without a back seatbelt was another first for our family. It also provided examples for posterity of how difficult it is to navigate between slow moving vehicles, like trucks filled with oil, bricks, or stone, when the difference in relative speeds is over 70 mph and the trucks are perilously unaware of our approach from behind. Again, we just knew that somehow it would work and that we'd survive again. After all, we'd been kind to some of the sadder vendors. Steven had purchased some berries from a hard working older woman, and during our mountain return, even convinced the cab driver to pull over for us to buy apricots and cherries from a cart family on the side of the road. </span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;">The driver took us to another of Steven's favorite haunts, a place famous for serving up great lamb soup and something like fried lamb tacos. Steven had made history during one visit for eating a full meal and topping it off with five of the fried tacos. As we finished, several of his friends came in for dinner, so we had a chance to meet Andrew (Steven's cohort performing the previous weekend at the Expat Show), Austin, and Emily (broken foot cast recently decorated by her friends). We left, and Steven led us in the darkness through several alleys. I know it sounds strange, but if you can avoid the occasional nasty sewer and diesel exhaust smells, the rest of Beijing smells of mesquite wood burning and can be rather pleasant. After a bit, we suddenly emerged near the Bell Tower that Karen and I had gone up ten days earlier, so we started to get our bearings, the only difference being that Karen and I had limited our adventure to well lit main streets during the daytime. Steven preferred the back alleys at night. We passed our former hotel, The Bamboo Garden, and revisited the blind masseurs for a relieving foot and leg massage. Since they were unusually busy for so late on Saturday, the proprietor brought us each an oak bucket lined with plastic so that we could sit out in the alley and soak our feet in hot water, steeping with what resembled a tea bag. As soon as my blind young man finished massaging an elderly handicapped woman and the proprietor kindly carried her to her wheelchair, I let him work my feet with his knuckles and knead them until I passed out from relaxation. Karen did the same. I loved the fact that he spoke a few words of English, so that I could tell him my feet felt "Beautiful" and I didn't have to tell him in Chinese that "The food is good." We returned the empty bottles of beer which Steven and I had purchased to get the deposit back, and he walked us out to the main road so that Alex could catch her taxi and we could catch ours. Alex had left her cell phone in Karen's pocket, so her textbook departure was slightly marred by her having to literally run back down the street to us screaming before we too had entered the second cab. Although tired, Steven walked to his hutong since it was relatively close.</span> </p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/05/531-forbidden-city-to-ourselves-to.html">Explore the Forbidden City on important anniversaries</a></span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family:Arial;"> </span>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-59927587516469743502009-05-29T12:34:00.000-07:002018-10-04T08:30:59.080-07:005/29 - Near death experiences getting to and leaving Guilin<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0969/556884970_jUG8W-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0969/556884970_jUG8W-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"> </span><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">We grabbed another nice breakfast at Kelly's Cafe, Karen going for the bacon and egg sandwich and Alex and I each getting another banana pancake with honey, fruit, juice, and coffee. "Wendy" stopped by our table to gently give us a hard time for not having called her for tickets to any of the nightly evening light shows on the river, which everyone had said was spectacular,</span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> but we saw as an opportunity for them to ritually sacrifice tourists to the mosquitoes and make a lot of money doing it. (I was getting confident in my newfound ability to actually distinguish various Asian ethnicities, as I'd recognized Wendy from two days earlier when she'd introduced herself while we were drinking Mojitos at Bar 98 and tried to get us to hire her as a local tour guide.) </span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> Then we returned to our Rosewood Inn, where we kind of knew it would be hard to say goodbye to the sweet staff. T</span><span style="font-family:Arial;">rue to their word, they'd done everything they could to make our stay very pleasant and had exceeded our expectations, and Sophie even presented us with a gift box of rice wine, chili sauce, and pickled tofu as we departed. All I had to return the gesture was my well worn business card, but we planned on putting a package together to surprise the trio (together with Tracy, whom I'd repeatedly mistaken for </span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> Sophie, and new mom Annabel, whom I'd once embarrassed making small talk, asking how here five-month-old son was doing, to which she'd replied, "Did Sophie tell you about my son?" and I'd reminded her that she herself had during one of my other attempts at communication.) and writing an e-mail of thanks to Mr. Wong (the patriarch of several businesses on the block) as soon as we returned to the US. After all, they'd innocently introduced us and helped guide us to our favorite gifts which we'd picked up in Yangshuo, the tennis racket electric bug zappers. We took a nice group photo, and their final words of wisdom were to take the express bus to Guilin rather than the other bus, which was known for attracting loads of pickpockets on the dozens of stops between the towns. (So, about ten minutes later, we actually get on an empty bus and ride it two blocks until we determine that it is likely to become exactly the same type of bus of which we'd been forewarned). We found an actual bus station and purchased express bus tickets for the next departure, and instead of being robbed, got to enjoy a very early Jackie Chan film on the closed circuit television, which Alex and I at times really laughed hard at in spite of the fact that it was spoken and subtitled in Chinese and I still couldn't be certain who were the good and bad guys. We just knew every time Jackie pulled up his sleeve to expose his magic fist, a bad guy was going to be punched literally across the room or through a wall. Kind of like the thug sitting next to me on the bus, whom I'd determined was one of the latter. He had several cell phone calls during the trip (which should have been only one hour, but turned in to an hour forty-five, for although our bus didn't make stops, it had been passed by nearly every other vehicle on the road, including a three wheeler powered by a lawn mower engine). Every time he answered his cell, which had a uncharacteristic, attractive, delicate ring tone, he'd bellow "Wei" in a distinctively northern growl and then lots of other monosyllabic groans until I'd realized he must have concluded his conversation since he'd resumed his reclining position along the window and reclosed his eyes (he'd already pulled the blinds away from the passenger in the forward seat in order to block off the sunlight and glared threateningly at him when the poor guy foolishly attempted to pull the blinds back into their original position....my seatmate had done the same with the curtains from behind us as well....nobody was willing to risk tugging at their curtains when they realized who this guy was). Not that I knew he was a thug when I'd first relocated from a seat I'd taken on the bus to my "assigned" seat (Karen, Alex and I had never guessed that the express bus had assigned seats) and found him occupying my aisle seat 15. I had pointed at my chest and then where he was sitting. No response. So I did it a bit more forcefully, with a Clint Eastwood raised eyebrow and without a single word (which I figured later worked greatly to my advantage, since I probably would have again said "The food is good.") He'd moved to the window and we did not exchange niceties.</span></p><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p>As we finally approached the Guilin bus terminal, we got stuck in traffic. It seems all the buses in Guilin converge to one location a few blocks off the main street, and if you'd seen how many buses were crammed into the station, you'd understand why all the buses, cars, bicycles, and carts were backed up several blocks and not moving. Since Jackie was still punching the bad guys and I'd started to figure out the plot, we were okay with the hold up, but my seatmate was not. His restlessness (and I presume familiarity with the neighborhood and possibly the stench of my bug repellent) caused him to be the only person to insist on being let off prematurely into the mayhem. I felt victorious, and sighed a deep breath as my backpack was placed on the only vacant seat on the express. Minutes later, we entered the bus stop, which unlike the airport (our ultimate planned destination), displayed no English signs anywhere and resembled instead a scene of pure pandemonium. After ten days in China, I'd concluded that nothing was ever what I expected, and I was not let down. Wandering around the bus station felt a lot like being lost in a football stadium during game day. We searched for what looked like it might be a ticket office in order to buy tickets for the airport bus. Three intelligent people wandering helplessly in Southeast Asia watching each other's backpacks in a sea of singsong faces of people who were probably quite nice but could be killers. They doubtless all knew how to effortlessly wring a chicken's neck, and that itself kept us on our toes. We got into a conversation with a driver of a black cab, which we knew would involve negotiating an agreed upon fare to the airport (we didn't want another "fir teen" miscommunication over price), and reached a middle ground which was just slightly more than what we knew we'd paid to take the combination shuttle and cab from the airport six days earlier. We followed him to his cab (parked near the real ticket counter), and he whisked us off to the airport. He asked if we were hungry, and offered to take us to a restaurant so that we could grab some lunch before our flight. Alex thanked him, but explained that we were stuffed still from breakfast. We felt like old pros, driving through Guilin and recognizing areas near our seedy hotel where we'd spent two nights earlier on our trip. In fact, he was parking on the wrong side of the street so that we could eat lunch at the Lonely Planet restaurant. He'd misunderstood our request (or maybe it was a cousin’s restaurant). After explaining again that we weren't hungry, and blocking traffic in both directions as he turned his taxi around right there in the middle of the street, we were once again off to the Guilin airport. We drove through such interesting parts of the city, and then through parts of the edge of the city which looked like new industrial areas, fairly contemporary yet empty campuses of business ventures which looked recently vacated. Then we saw some beautiful countryside, where I found myself playing the game of identify the pollutant as I watched ponds of various shades of brown mixed into the fields of deep green. Again, there were intermittent areas of residential and then again industrial areas, with many smokestacks still belching an interesting mix of blue and gray smoke. With the exception of one brick factory, I couldn't definitively describe any of the products being manufactured at these locations. But I did start making notes of the few locations which displayed any words in English, because I started to feel the hairs on my neck tingle. This was not the same road we'd traveled a week earlier when we'd been shuttled from the airport to the city, not even close. We were lost. Worse, Karen and Alex were beginning to suspect that we were being driven to an undisclosed location where thieves were waiting to rob and dismember us, and even what little remained of our bodies (nothing went to waste in China) would go undiscovered forever. Their suspicions were confirmed when we turned onto a stone road which had no other traffic except three wheeled carts, all of which were snaking around like we were attempting to avoid the hundreds of six foot diameter pot holes and puddles of unknown depth. I was just about to reach for my cellphone to call 411, not for information but rather, in China, is the number for emergency, so that I could tell the operator "The food is good" and that (on the off chance somebody on the other end spoke English) the most recent sign I'd seen which I could identify said Greater China Mining Company, but then I saw a large airplane at low altitude in the distance. As we rounded the next hill, the control tower came into view as did an entrance, of sorts, to a well manicured and fairly modern airport. We had apparently traveled to the other "main entrance" of the Guilin airport to avoid taking the toll roads, and hence had been treated to a much more interesting and varied terrain, not to mention adrenaline rush which often accompanies watching too many horror films and then imagining living them in real life. Even though I had been confident all along, the tone of the girls' voices had caused a few pangs of concern, in spite of the several nice conversations Alex had with our driver, who again seemed too nice to be the brutal killer that he could have just as well been. He could have retrieved the business card he'd given us after he'd robbed and killed us is what Karen said. We were relieved to have been dropped at the international wing, even though we were just flying domestically back to Beijing.</p> <p>The girls ran off the hit the restroom, made even more necessary by the bumpiest segment of the journey between the pot holes, as I determined that we were actually fairly close to where we needed to be to check in for our flight. Actually, we weren't far from the very helpful tourist information desk which I'd initially found when I uncharacteristically ventured off from Alex after we first landed in Guilin, although it was currently unstaffed. We checked Alex's backpack since it was loaded with our liquids, and then proceeded through airport security. We were met by a couple of perplexed guards who, after seeing the bag of tennis racket shaped electric bug zappers (as I've described, some unusual gift items we'd hoped to carry on), insisted that we return to the ticketing agent to check the items as luggage. After seeing the look on our faces as we tried to determine how we'd be able to figure out how to reaccomplish what we'd achieved thus far, they simply said that we could carry the items on board with us, which we did, so I told them "The food is good." (Now that I think about it, security should never have allowed us to carry eight of these charged things on board.) We found some very comfortable '70's style chairs in a lounge area and paid as much for each small beer as we'd paid for a meal at some of the family run eating establishments on our trip, and although it bothered Alex to spend so much money, Karen and I had looked at spending yuan more as a challenge in determining the most effective combination of bills to provide so as to minimize the number of fairly worthless wu jou (or half kuai) notes we might receive in change. We liked the more valuable, larger notes, because they were physically bigger. On the flip side, larger notes were easier to grab when one reached into one's shirt pocket, which made me rather inept at easily pulling out pocket change (wu jous) for street beggars, so I just gave up trying and instead resolved to be called a series of mean names as I walked past, or maybe they were also commenting on the quality of the food.</p> <p>We played poker until boarding time, Karen again getting a number of really good hands, and then, like before, got onto the plane bound for Beijing with a relatively few number of other westerners, who were all seated together in the center section of the otherwise empty plane. Just a few minutes before departure, the balance of vacant seats were taken by a wave of locals, who looked as if they were seasoned shoppers who had just kept shopping until the last possible moment and then jumped on the bus as it departed. This is actually an accurate description, because many of these people were busy taking pictures of each other and out the windows and gleefully giggling as the stewards tried to get them to put their shopping bags under the seats or above in compartments. Many would stand to take photos as the plane was taxiing in preparation for take off, and I think the stewards finally gave up and were satisfied if most of the passengers still had their seat belts fastened as the plane took off. I wish I'd known how to get these discount tickets, because this particular flight happened to be the most expensive leg of all of our Chinese travel arrangements. And it turned out to be the least appealing, as far as food options. Alex is convinced that fish was on the menu (we'd avoided anything raised from China's waterways) solely for the non-Chinese speaking passengers, and she wanted to get our stewards' names in order to write to China Air and complain after she thought she heard them utter the Chinese word for "pork" to some of the passengers sitting behind us. As it turned out, the lunch was edible and we all survived, in spite of the fact that it was Alex's first time in her life to eat fish on a plane, and Karen and I hadn't done so since we first saw the movie Airplane.</p> </span><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">We were treated to an uncharacteristically clear sunset as we flew into Beijing Friday evening. We could see the canals which at one time had defined the fields and paddies to the southeast of the city, and now were flanked with trees. We saw one walled area which seemed to be a luxurious golf course and some official looking buildings, which Alex pointed out might be an area occupied by party officials. Nearer the city and closer to high rise apartment buildings was the requisite nuclear power plant. In the distance to the north and west were the mountains. We'd learn later that because it had rained recently and from the stiff winds, the air was fairly clean. We splurged again and grabbed a taxi to the hotel. Our final three nights would be spent using HHonors points at the Beijing Doubletree. </span> </p> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;">It turned out to be one of the nicer hotels of the trip, and we were in the mood for a little pampering. Alex stuck around for a little while, but started to get sleepy, so she grabbed a taxi back to the university. Karen and I found the lounge and had our first mixed drinks in nearly two weeks, which were accompanied by some snacks which looked like Pringles potato chips but tasted like something completely different. We were not very picky, for our drinks contained real ice. And our room had the first soft bed we'd found since arriving in China. We turned the silent yet efficient air conditioning down to a frigid 22 degrees and passed out fifteen stories above the city. </span></p> <p><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/05/530-simatai-section-of-great-wall-is.html">Back to Beijing and the Simatai section of the Great Wall</a></p>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-55284754531070541552009-05-28T12:28:00.000-07:002018-10-04T08:30:05.906-07:005/28 - Yangshuo Cooking School<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1002/556885050_uhHbh-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1002/556885050_uhHbh-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">Which brings me to today! After a quick western breakfast of great banana pancakes, fruit, juice, and coffee, we were off to our official cooking class with our host Kelly (see <a href="http://www.yangshuocookingschool.com/" target="_blank"> www.yangshuocookingschool.com</a> last I checked, the site pretty accurately described the fun we had learning to stir fry). We met lots of other tourists from both the US and the UK, some very enjoyable folks, and we were all escorted through the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=alLEoP6lXug&feature=related" target="_blank"> local farmer’s market</a>. Let me try to describe both the high and low points of this market, the similarities and the differences to farmer’s markets in the US with which you might be familiar. </span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> In the US, you meet and talk with the farmer who grew the crop, harvested it, and drove it to market. In <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Yangshuo</span>, you meet but cannot talk with the person who squats near an unidentifiable yet very beautiful looking organic of some sort (which Kelly named, but since we knew there would be no final quiz, most of us quickly forgot) or the person who rode in with a cage full of chickens, rabbits, or geese and was eager to pass it to you live, stunned or partially prepared, depending on your freshness preference [at breakfast, I'd unsuccessfully tried to get a photo of a guy in a suit carrying a dead chicken hooked on his briefcase...there were just too many stories possible from this one scene]. One farmer had as many vegetables and herbs displayed as did the scarf and jade vendors along the waterfront market. One fellow was busy peeling cloves of garlic [why they bother is an unanswered question] for display. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1012/556885093_Mazw3-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1012/556885093_Mazw3-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a> Others hung pork parts which we don't think were actually the parts which our guide euphemistically called "the bladder." We avoided the more grizzly areas of the beef and dead animal areas, and were warned not to photograph any of the tofu ladies [none of the other farmers or animal providers seemed to have a problem with cameras....tofu must be in a class by itself]. The produce market consisted of two warehouses of customers and vendors, each about the size of Walgreen's or a bit larger. The aisle ways were wet, somewhat dirty, had pedestrian traffic in two directions which was occasionally punctuated by motorcycle or tricycle deliveries of animals or more raw veggies. There were people and products everywhere. Every color and kind of egg imaginable was stacked in rows. A guy smoking was lining up his rows of green onions. Babies played in the limited free space on the cloth areas which defined each vendors' one or two hundred square feet. A squatting customer was counting out <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">wu</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">jiao's</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">kuai</span> on the ground to complete his transaction for his restaurant's or family’s daily needs. I'm sure our noodle making grandpa was around there somewhere, but we'd already been past the pork area and had no interest in making our favorite <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Yangshuo</span> dinners too personal.</span></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1018/556885158_okaX4-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1018/556885158_okaX4-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">We got to know the other cooking students on the way over to the kitchen. Quite nice people. Two eighteen-year-old London girls, Etta (Henriette) and Gina, traveling together, had just spent three weeks crossing Russia and found it very cold and forbidding. Although neither spoke Russian nor Chinese, they enjoyed their trek through China thus far (a second three weeks) and planned on continuing on to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Hong</span> Kong, Thailand, Cambodia, and Laos. I told them they should write a book not on their travels, but on how to convince one's parents to allow worldwide travel by young girls through third world countries, but they seemed to take for granted what I considered the novelty of their adventures. I suppose cell phones enable more risk taking than I ever imagined. A married couple, TC from London and Vanessa from Australia, were both eloquent and entertaining. A pair of ladies from Texas were actually fun too, and finally another mother-daughter pair doing their third class this week from (you guessed it) London rounded out our group. We each had a chef station, and learned how to prepare five dishes using a cleaver and wood block, a well seasoned wok, and a cool personal propane wok stove at our stainless steel work area. Dumplings, fried tofu and vegetables, spicy chicken, green vegetable and garlic, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Yangshuo</span> style sweet and sour pork (from the tender arm roast area and not the mystery parts we'd seen at the market, I'm told). When I get back to the states and perfect these new techniques, I promise to add the recipes to the Yahoo! group <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">DavesDiningGuests</span> site. I just have to iron out the kinks. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1037/556885234_fJQDN-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1037/556885234_fJQDN-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a> But we ate everything we cooked, and are still feeling all right several hours later in spite of slicing raw chicken and pork on a wooden cutting block. We also forgot to wash our hands afterward and ate some fresh fruit (bayberry) with our hands, so we'll see if our luck holds. Alex photographed the entire class and got to eat the fruits of our labor during an enjoyable hour of dining and international exchange (though most of it UK / US except for the Chinese host and assistants). We plan to have lots of photos documenting our culinary adventure on the website to share with these other travelers.</span></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1046/556885296_PkLV3-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1046/556885296_PkLV3-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">We walked back to our hotel through the riverfront market, feeling more and more confident with the vendors, either because we've learned how to deal with them, we've become accustomed to and ignore their shouts of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">ello</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">ello</span>, or they've recognized the odd guy in the same Hawaiian shirt carrying the big camera and the pair of expert hagglers who are shopping with purpose. The biggest limitation to our shopping is that we have to carry whatever we purchase back to Beijing. A better deterrent has yet to be found to reign in on the temptations of the Chinese market.</span></p><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p>Alex and Karen have worn out the cards playing Crazy 8's. In short, we were relishing the good lessons learned at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Yangshuo</span> Cooking School. We were actually starting to miss <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Yangshuo</span> already, even though we hadn't left yet. We'd mastered the street vendors, which were less pushy than those of other touristy spots (or, as I said, they simply recognized us). The landscape was breathtaking in every direction, and it was reassuring that the town's two and three-story buildings were dwarfed by the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">karsts</span>. We'd survived the roadways and the market. We'd found some very good food, and spent our final dinner at our favorite food place with the very friendly family of restaurateurs. They had pushed all but one of their four tables together for a large, Chinese family of about ten. We had the other. It was so much fun watching the locals devour all their food in a festive manner. I kind of imagined they'd all met up in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Yangshuo</span> for dinner after maybe watching the Dragon Boat races up in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Guilin</span> and were in full swing, enjoying the first day of the Thursday, Friday, Saturday holiday. We branched out and ordered another, spectacular dish, though I still crave another Julienne potato stir fry. Grandma, very proud and eager for our assessment, brought me a sample of her very spicy hot chili, yellowish string bean appetizer, a chewy vinegary snack similar to one <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Jeying</span> had shared with me (packaged) a year earlier. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0770/556884213_JEvjN-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0770/556884213_JEvjN-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a> I alone, it seemed, forced myself to eat most of it, since it was after all a gift, and although it was oddly addictive, it was so chewy that I thought my jaw and molars would ache the next day. The dinner crowd had heated up, and even though the big family had finished and left, and their three tables had been quickly cleared and relocated, the place was packed again. We explained to the family that we'd be leaving <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Yangshuo</span> the next day (since we'd hoped they too had enjoyed their repeat Caucasians and we didn't want them stocking extra beers or chopping extra potatoes for us), and we think they figured out what Alex was saying, certainly more than the grandpa had understood me. I'd pulled him over after he'd delivered one dish to our table and tried to tell him something to the effect that, "You are a lucky man. You have a beautiful family." Alex told me that it was probably interpreted as "The food is good."</p><p><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/05/near-death-experiences-getting-to-and.html"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Guilin</span> is to die for</a></p><p><br /></p></span><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><br /></span></p>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-23022394918183293362009-05-27T12:23:00.000-07:002018-10-04T08:28:39.117-07:005/27 - Ballooning over southeast China<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0844/556884556_X6zj7-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0844/556884556_X6zj7-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p>I awoke on my 49th birthday at 4:30am so that I could shower and then immediately spray myself with mosquito repellent. The balloon people, true to their word, knocked on our door and then waited patiently in our hotel for us to join them. In the early dawn, we drove toward the launch site and looked at the foggy, cloudy sky hoping that there might be some sign of its clearing. It did not look hopeful (Yahoo weather forecast predicted more thunderstorms today and tomorrow for Guilin). Nonetheless, the morning cloudiness would probably be safer than an afternoon thunderstorm, so the balloons started filling (we'll have lots of photos, albeit, low contrast photos). The roar of the burners and fans in a formerly peaceful quiet would bother me if I'd been a resident of the adjacent buildings, but they looked completely vacant. The three of us were joined by a pair from Switzerland (Daniel and his mom Macarena, who also had just celebrated a birthday) and we hopped in the basket with our pilot.</p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0841/556884526_XGLYU-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0841/556884526_XGLYU-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /></span><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">Adding six people to a basket which already included two large propane tanks and hoses was an adventure itself. The heat from the burner over our heads and the deafening noise was rather severe, and I worried that my weight together with the two backpacks we'd tossed in would exceed the allowable limit. We weren't lifting off, in spite of the constant heat being applied by the burner and roasting my hairless head. </span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> Finally, we moved a bit, and the two ground crew members directed us slightly. We suddenly started ascending toward the vacant apartments which, unfortunately, were four stories tall and very near. But we successfully cleared the buildings and were moving vertically much faster than we were drifting horizontally. The sudden silence (and refreshing cool breeze) as we were swiftly climbing was hypnotic. Even though each of us faced outward, we had an ever expanding view of diminishing rice fields and karst peaks, Yangshuo and other towns in the distance, and the snaking river. We climbed so quickly that in little time we were above the tops of the mountains, and then too soon into and above the lowest layer of clouds. I could no longer see the ground, yet felt the wind moving us along, and all I could think of was the old movie King Kong. I was certain that if we descended blindly then suddenly we'd see that we'd drifted into a series of pinnacles and we'd be doomed to become part of the local folklore. Nobody else seemed to share my concern, so I figured, "What the hay" [loosely translated it means "Ohhhh shiiiiit"] and just kept looking for any landmarks on the ground. </span></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0870/556884592_2qE7F-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0870/556884592_2qE7F-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">We slowly returned below the clouds and could make out discrete areas of farming, buildings, roads and trails, burial sites (circular raised areas in grouped areas often at the base of the peaks), rivers and bridges, and towns. On at least two occasions, the first being over a fast flowing river, our pilot took us down and hovered within twenty feet of the surface, prompting me to put away the camera and prepare for impact. Only then he would take us back up. We rose alongside a karst and then sailed over its peak, noting how dense and varied the vegetation along its entire rock face seemed to be. He flew us very close to Moon Hill, an arched semi-circular opening atop one of the karst peaks. It was a gray, low contrast day, in which visibility was slowly improving as the sun (presumably) was making its way higher in the sky. </span></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0873/556884633_WLFdt-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0873/556884633_WLFdt-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><p><span style="font-family:Arial;"> Alex soared like an eagle over much of Southeast Asia that morning. We set down after an hour or so of flight, in the middle of a little traveled roadway where a truck and some attendants were waiting (okay, the pilot had a GPS and two-way radio and had been in frequent contact with the ground). Nonetheless, I still think it would have been more fun if we'd tipped sideways in a rice field and had to slog through the mud to find a way back, which is kind of what I’d expected when we first set out. We'd sprayed enough Off on ourselves to have been able to trek through the jungle [first thing our driver did when we got into the van was to open several of the windows for ventilation] and we had outfitted our backpacks for nearly every eventuality [hence my relief when we were indeed able to lift off].</span></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0889/556884675_Q4GTq-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0889/556884675_Q4GTq-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">Actually, our pilot successfully landed our basket very gently on the roadway. It had helped that we'd seen another balloon successfully perform the same maneuver a few minutes before us, and they seemed to have survived unscathed [speaking of scathes, we joked that a woman the previous day had approached us with one....well, joke is not exactly the right word, she indeed had her arm held high with an exceedingly sharp one in her fist as we scooted quickly past her]. A couple of attendants jumped on the basket to keep it from returning to flight, and we each took turns crawling out and thanking our pilot for not burning us alive as he switched hoses from one tank to the next, and for avoiding the smokestack [descending over and almost into a very tall industrial smokestack and seeing inside it from above is something they should add to the tour description and which I'd highly recommend each of you try at least once in your life], and for avoiding the power lines and vacant apartment building and karst peaks from within the clouds, and for not saying in his relatively limited English "We are out of fuel and are going down" or "One of you will have to leap" or "Dear Buddha, Please Forgive Me!" Instead, we each just said "She she."</span></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0906/556884699_ccXqX-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0906/556884699_ccXqX-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><p>So I survived my 49th birthday thus far. After a quick breakfast of fruit and banana pancakes, we've returned to the Rosewood Inn so that Karen and Alex can catch a few more winks. I'm drinking tea and writing, and feel pretty good about being alive.</p> <p>Brief aside: Thanks for all your Birthday Wishes, Amanda, Tom, Rayme, and Helen! Like I said, it was so nice to have survived another, especially given the lack of OSHA regulations in the Asian ballooning world. I talked with another traveler from Jerusalem who landed within a meter of a power line yesterday afternoon and described all the excitement on the part of the ground crew as they attempted to keep the balloon from coming in contact with live wires.</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0938/556884855_EwMfM-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0938/556884855_EwMfM-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a></span><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">By Wednesday afternoon, the girls had finished their morning naps and we embarked on a rural exploration on three hotel bicycles. These were actually very nice mountain bikes, with front shock absorbers and comfy seats. My only complaint was that my ringer lacked a handle, so while Karen and Alex joined in the cacophony of bells and horns on the streets of Yangshuo, I had to invent various sounds as I passed some of the slower tourists, oxcarts, or pedestrians. Actually, it allowed me great freedom to make guttural sounds, which I'd been doing as entertainment primarily to aggravate Karen, who insisted that I was being rude to the locals and might be saying something offensive. Although I think she was being overly sensitive, there may have been some truth to her admonition. Alex told me that instead of telling our favorite noodle maker that the food was great, I'd called the food stupid, or something along those lines. </span></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0934/556884809_GyGbC-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0934/556884809_GyGbC-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">This time we found no difficulty in finding the right road, since we'd traveled it with our ballooning group. But it still amazes me how much more sensual a journey can be when on bicycle and lacking a rear view mirror. My visual senses, having been overwhelmed, relied on auditory clues as to what might be approaching from our back sides. I felt oddly relieved when, at one point where I'd stopped to photograph a Chinese burial site, a petrol truck (or a sewage truck, or a milk truck, they oddly all look alike) actually slowed and moved over a bit when it saw that it would be passing Karen and Alex. [Do I still need to mention that it blared its horn? Everyone in China blares his horn.] We reached the edge of the village after successfully passing through a couple of roundabouts and were met by relative silence. It was actually a nice roadway, relatively flat (considering the surrounding terrain and karst peaks), and surprisingly empty of noxious odors, though there were several small ponds which defy description. I could write pages about the types of people we've encountered, but I'll leave it up to students of Chinese culture, because I'd probably get it all wrong anyhow. Let it suffice to say that Karen and Alex still yell at me because I like to make eye contact or acknowledge some of the people I encounter, the ones who appear to me to also want to open a door. [Problem is, eye contact tends to encourage street vendor activity.] We saw lots of rice paddies, various forms of rural housing, and reached our destination of a plaza at the Yulong River bridge, where dozens of bamboo boat operators waited to snag interested tourists. We spent a little time exploring the river and some of its rapids, and watched as many bamboo craft (six or seven large diameter, very long bamboo poles lashed together and featuring a pair of bamboo seats covered by an umbrella, and piloted by a barefoot, tan driver). The going rate for bamboo boat rides was about CNY100 ($15), and although it looked like lots of fun, we thought our health would benefit from as little contact with the river as possible. Having recovered from the ride out (which always seems farther than the return journey), we decided to head back toward town. We took our time on the return, made more stops, watched three adventurers climbing hundreds of feet up on the vertical face of a karst, and tried to determine what safety measures might have been in place to protect these climbers. At least we saw helmets, and we think we even saw safety ropes. </span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;">This area is wonderful in that it is a tourist destination and loaded with many nationalities, though many are Chinese from around the country. So many people made an effort to say hello in English as they passed or were passed on the trip back to town. All in all, in spite of gently burning legs, it was a very relaxing afternoon. I just know that riding in the same manner which is taken for granted here in China would result in certain, instantaneous, painful death if performed in Tulsa, Oklahoma. </span></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0941/556884871_7BhW4-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0941/556884871_7BhW4-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">We returned the bikes and grabbed some tall bottles of cheap, but good, Chinese beer (Happy Hour wouldn't begin for two more hours). More market shopping, relatively unsuccessful compared with the previous day, made us a bit weary. We again went to our favorite Bei Fang Qing Hua Jaio Zi noodle place to again have Julienne potatoes, noodles with tomato and beef, and stir fry pork. The titles do not do justice to the five stars each of these dishes should be awarded. Capped off by three more tall Chinese beers, and another round of "name the relationship each of the shop owners and employees in the market has to one another" made for a great dinner. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0958/556884932_ZZDw9-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0958/556884932_ZZDw9-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a> My birthday dinner was very memorable, and we again were entertained by members of the Bei Fang family, from five-month old "Stella" to her grandma (Karen's, and now my, age) and all the relatives in between. I felt sorry for the paternal chef, whom I assume was grandpa (though he too was only about my age), because it looked as though he'd lost at whatever card game he was playing with the shopkeeper from across the alley. The young man took him for every kuai he probably had, and I had been rooting for the old noodle maker. We hope to have ingratiated ourselves enough so that for our last dinner in Yangshuo we'll be able to watch our dinner being made. More on this later. </span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;">We finished the evening drinking Mojitos and playing poker at our little bar owned by the Australians. Unfortunately, a rather vulgar pair of their compatriots sat behind us within earshot and insisted on making rude comments about every Chinese waitress within sight as if none of them comprehended any English. Funny how exotic settings can sometimes bring out the drunken sailor in English speaking jerks. We called it an early night without any billiards, since Alex planned on waking us all up in a few hours to catch the EUFA soccer final from Rome (which we watched at 2:45 am - got to see FC Barcelona defeat Manchester United--hooray).<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"> </span></span></p><p><br /></p><p><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/05/yangshuo-cooking-school.html">Yang can cook!</a></p><p><br /></p>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-56347485110796554032009-05-26T12:15:00.000-07:002018-10-04T08:26:17.423-07:005/26 - Yangshuo is a quaint little town<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0757/556884165_6QczB-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0757/556884165_6QczB-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p>In America, patrons at outdoor cafes along a river hope for good weather. Generally, people like to be comfortable and dry when drinking or eating dinner. Funny thing is that it's different in Yangshuo. We found us a place (Bar 98) last night where if it's sunny, they close at 6pm and stay open late only if it's wet and miserable. It seems all the potential customers are off at the light show on the river if the weather is nice. Kind of backward as compared with how the crowds are at home, but that's the way it is.</p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0811/556884329_Lbc6x-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0811/556884329_Lbc6x-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /></span><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">We ate great noodles last night. Got to see tomorrow's noodles being made as well. The chef was even letting her granddaughter sample some of the dough (a little baby, who didn't care much for her grandma's offer). Drank mai tais, mojitos, and pina coladas because they were Happy Hour drinks (and Happy Hour apparently runs from sun-up until closing) and then played some pool. Slept pretty well, and here we are, writing about our adventures and drinking some tea on Tuesday morning. </span></p> <span style="font-family:Arial;"> </span><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">I e-mailed my girls that if they needed to call us, they should Google The Rosewood Inn in Yangshuo. We don't have a phone in the room, but the front desk day people are Sophie and Annabel. Either would be nice enough to run down to our room and grab one of us if we're around. I told them to just use Net2Phone and they'd only have to pay six cents a minute. Not a bad rate, considering we were just about on the opposite side of the world. I'd say just call Alex's cell, but that would run down her remaining minutes (and for some strange reason, she can't purchase more minutes until we get back to Beijing).</span></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0765/556884194_Azy2m-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0765/556884194_Azy2m-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p>We don't know what we're doing tomorrow yet. We think hot air ballooning over this area is one option. Authentic Chinese cooking classes are another. This area also seems to have some neat things in the markets (shock!), so we might be doing some shopping. In general, it's just nice to walk around and not feel like we're going to get run over by a car. Pickpockets are known to hang out around here, so we still have to be on our toes.</p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0795/556884255_BaVXA-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0795/556884255_BaVXA-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><p>We continued to press our luck. We rented two electric scooters and braved the streets. Karen hopped on behind me and, with Alex in the lead, we went in search of the trail to the Yulong River. Navigated the chaos pretty well (I think the locals know to give a wide berth to American tourists). Alex ran into the back of another motorcycle only once (as the photo above shows, Alex liked to drive forward while looking backward), when the guy abruptly stopped dead to visit with another local driver in a small utility cart. Only kind of nicked him. We learned some Chinese sounds for ouch. Every time we stopped to review the place mat we've used for our map of the area, locals have been very eager to help direct us on the route we hoped to find. They have all enthusiastically run over to us every time we stopped. They were very nice and didn't rob us. After several redirections, we finally found the path we'd been looking for and headed away from the town and into the fields. Among the karst peaks are rice paddies and fields of every kind of vegetable, worked it seems by one person in each of the fields (in other words, isolated and spread out, unlike what we saw in the cities where agricultural workers squatted shoulder to shoulder to plant plugs of grass). Often, a person was working the mud with the aid of a water buffalo. We traveled through multiple small villages, each with a little vendor who might offer drinks or staple goods. Very frequently, we'd see several local residents congregated there with a baby or two and playing cards or hawking other goods, like flowers or fans. [I had this nonsensical image go through my head, that these vendors believed I had flown for over twenty hours, cruised a river, navigated a gauntlet of vendors, swatted mosquitoes, and then scooted through traffic and into the rice paddies just so that I could purchase a paper cutout of my wife's profile. Actually, later in the afternoon, I did.]</p></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0812/556884347_hA66X-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0812/556884347_hA66X-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">Somehow finding the path to the river ( we hit the end of the road, literally, and doubled back after being chased by a woman yelling "bamboo raft, this way, this way"), we scooted down an even narrower path, encouraged by some European bicyclists heading in the opposite direction. We crossed the river on a bridge made of 1'x3' rectangular stones (had to have been very heavy) arranged to form a platform. I didn't really want to study the foundation, since there were no alternatives anyhow and it looked as though countless people had successfully crossed, probably for centuries. Once we got over, however, we encountered a tour group of Swedes heading in the opposite direction. They had both an English speaking guide and, at the tail end, a guard of sorts. He had reflective sunglasses and stayed behind, we think, because Karen had stayed with our scooters while I went back to get some fun photos of Alex on the bridge. Once we realized that he was concerned for her safety, I became ever more concerned for it as well.</span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;">And since we'd reached the edge of our placemat (our map), and our scooter batteries were only half full, it was time to double back. Best thing about the return trip was that we knew where we needed to stop for good photos, and where we could go full throttle to zip past the vendors who otherwise might be able to catch us to try to sell us another something. ["She she, ke shur e jing yo" is a phrase I had to learn, roughly translated meaning "Thank you, but I already have it" although there were better phrases like "No" which also worked. Alex told me the "Go away" phrase, but I can't bring myself to say that to an old toothless bent- over woman, even if I know she's cursing me after we gave her a smaller bill than I initially reached for, as happened in the Muslim part of Xi’an.] We got back to town, missed getting flattened by the busier street again, and walked our scooters through West Street, the pedestrian market which actually has nice merchandise and a softer sell [but of course has its share of pickpockets....hairs on the back of our necks stood up as three locals took an uncanny interest in our rental scooters and I detected a few pats on my pockets, which left them unsatisfied as I then brusquely pushed past them and we returned to our hotel.....turns out one of them followed us all the way back, rather disturbing, but what can one do? Even pickpockets are entitled to "gwang y gwang" or "take a stroll"].</span></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0946/556884899_FzABP-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0946/556884899_FzABP-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><p>Since we'd only had the scooters a relatively short time, rather than the entire day, Alex convinced Sophie to let us have three bicycles for no charge at some future point during our stay. We had another great lunch at our favorite Yangshuo noodle place (2 orders of garlic beef noodles and 1 of garlic, green onion slivered potatoes---yumm---and 3 tall beers), the grandma proprietor smiling proudly that we'd returned again for a meal. The chef was proud when we told him "hun how" (I'd reconfirm the pronunciation, except that Alex has pulled a cover over her head and she’s grabbing a quick nap), whatever we said, at the time it worked and he understood we were saying "good job" or delicious. I still can't get over how excited these Chinese get when Alex starts talking their language. It's the look of relief that somebody might show if you dropped the double barrel shotgun you'd been pointing at them to the ground and admitted that it hadn't even been loaded. So, in addition to relief, it's excitement that they show, and then they launch into a high-pitched fast paced squawk and engage Alex, who "deluxe bun cha joes" them right back. (Deluxe bun cha joe is one of my favorite meals at a famous Tulsa Vietnamese restaurant.)</p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0820/556884374_XUYHj-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0820/556884374_XUYHj-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><p> Tuesday afternoon shopping was surprisingly enjoyable and productive. There were no crowds (it was getting hot) and it helped walking from umbrella to umbrella looking for shade. Alex and Karen were showing that they'd become quick studies, and were only paying three times the absolute minimum price rather than ten. They were making friends of the vendors yet not being ripped off, which Karen really enjoyed. And I was able to play "secret Asian man" while watching Alex's back side to make sure her backpack was off limits to any of the shady characters (which could be any of the people I didn't directly know or recognize....I now proudly say recognize, because after only nine days in this country, I am beginning to be able to tell the difference between the different Asian body types and features....my favorite, of course, being the petite, delicate very feminine and smiling people who for an instant seem to create a refreshing and wondrous moment in their glances, or maybe it's just that their eye shape makes me think they're always smiling). For whatever explanation, it's something of which I'll never get enough. It's like a garden in full bloom, in spite of the reality of how hard life must really be around here.</p> <p> Exhausted and sweaty, we went back to catch a short nap before we were to be picked up at around five o'clock by the hot air balloon people. We drove west this time, exploring a different part of town, and were saddened when our hot air hostess conveyed our pilot's recommendation that we wait until morning. [The photo I have of a building thunderhead at sunset is evidence that he was indeed wise to cancel the afternoon flight.] So we were driven back to town.</p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0825/556884408_7TvJL-L.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0825/556884408_7TvJL-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><p>Before we went off in search of some mojitos, we just had to locate this really cool thing (I can't tell you what it is yet, sorry, it’s a surprise). We'd seen it used at the Rosewood Inn, and our hostess Sophie told us the going price. So we went to a rather contemporary market (imagine a Walgreen's, except with uniformed attendants standing at the end of each aisle ready to serve you and "do their duty"). Alex tried to explain what was that we were looking for, and we didn't think we would be successful at communicating this rather unusual request, when a puzzled young lady directed our gazes down to her feet, where these items happened to be located in a big, disorganized stack. We scared the poor kid, literally almost out of her shoes, when we exuberantly shouted, "That's it!" All the poor Chinese in the store thought we were nutty Americans when we bought as many of the things we could get our hands on. The Chinese are a very observant people, for we were rather nutty.</p> <p>Alex and Karen had western dinners of sandwiches while I had a fried egg plate and some rice, but all in all, the drinks were less satisfying than our previous evening at Bar 98 (which we'd tried, but the weather had cleared enough that they had closed the bar and packed up the patrons to trek out to the river for drinking and festivities with the light show). We would have followed, but we knew that we'd be called at 5 am the next morning by the balloonists, which indeed turned out to be the case.</p><p><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/12/ballooning-over-southeast-china.html">Adventure over Yangshuo</a></p></span>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-46469705548377097062009-05-25T09:46:00.000-07:002018-10-04T08:24:19.427-07:005/25 - To Yangshuo (Take the Li River cruise)<span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family:Arial;"><p>We awoke Monday early so that we could enjoy a powerful shower (it was the one and only nice thing I can say about the Zhongshan) before a trip back for an alleyway breakfast of noodles, sticky buns, sesame buns, and rice wrapped in banana leaves. I say "buns" for lack of a better term. I suppose donuts would be more accurate, but these are much, much denser and not always sweet. We don't know really what we're eating most of the time, but if there aren't obvious signs of moving insects, we'll try it, and more often than not we're pleasantly surprised. We check out of the hotel a few minutes before our bus is to pick us up to go to the river, so that the hotel staff can do a quick inventory of the condoms and sodas and confirm that we didn't run off with any. We got a full refund of our room key deposit of CNY100. Deposits are standard at non-Western hotels, and all make copies of your passport when you check-in.</p><br /><a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK#556883225_97aPY" target="_blank"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0425/556883272_kwetA-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding-top: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; "></a> <p>We got our final view of Guilin 's rainy season from a small bus with large windows which, of course, had been arranged by Jerry on the previous day. Forty minutes later and we were boarding one of a dozen tourist boats bound for Yangshuo. I don't know why we thought there might be only one ship. I assume the constant bombardment of "buy your cruise tickets now, to get good seats" or "before they are sold out" had succeeded in providing that sense of urgency needed to close the sale. We quickly darted up the stairs for the top floor of the boat so that the three of us had the front, right (in our opinion, best) spots to spend the next couple of hours standing in the intermittent mist.</p> </span> <p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><br /><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0437/556883311_hvXz5-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding-top: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; "><br />Alex and I took a few www. A few hundred. At least. <a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK#P-13-12" target="_blank">The scenery was breathtaking</a>, although none of the photos will have enough contrast to show the incredible beauty of this area. I found it difficult, however, to imagine the horrors experienced many years ago by those poor souls who found themselves fighting a war in jungle conditions. I don't know if the people of this area harbor any ill will toward Americans, but some of the looks I feel I get from some of the older locals could be explained by a latent animosity.</span></p> <p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><br /><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0715/556884005_8ZsWj-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding-top: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; "><br />I'd tell more about the boat trip, the surprisingly decent lunch and Portuguese, Mexican, and German lunch guests, but I know I've been writing too much as it is. We pulled into Yangshuo a bit early, so we had to walk the most <a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/8280957_bCTNK#556883984_4JevJ" target="_blank">impressive gauntlet</a>we had yet encountered of vendors of every sort. To make matters worse, we had nobody to greet us, so we started wandering a maze of village streets and alleys without a map or the aid of any street signs. I set down my backpack in order to retrieve what little paperwork I did have on the "Rosewood Inn" and was visited by a two-foot tall dwarf asking for money. Although we now had an address, we still didn't know what street or town we were in. Fortunately, we navigated by remembering the small river which we'd seen emptying into the Li at the docks, and we wandered back towards it to be greeted by a rather encouraging sign entitled Rosewood Bar. A nice young lady walked us along the river until we came to our final destination at the <a href="http://www.yangshuorosewoodinn.cn/home.html" target="_blank">Rosewood Inn</a>. And we are quite pleased.</span></p> <p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><br /><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC1054/556885359_gZ9xG-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding-top: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; ">The hotel staff introduced themselves, so I introduced each of us. After meeting the petite Sophie, who apologized profusely that she hadn't been there forty-five minutes early to greet us at the boat, we met Annabel and other staff members. The owner, Sam Wong, called and I spoke with him on the phone as he also apologized that he was in Guilin and couldn't be there for our arrival, but that if we needed ANYTHING, to ask his staff and they would get the message to him and he would see that our needs were met. Before committing to four nights, we asked to see the room (which turned out to be quite lovely). We could have been comfortable in this room for a long time (with the exception of the millions of mosquitoes in this area)---three beds (unlike most beds in China, these were actually soft), a sitting area, balcony on the little river, tv, fridge, computer, tasteful decor, and oversized bathroom. As soon as we checked in, Sophie visited us with a gift of a plate of local fruits and we have a pleasant conversation as she shyly giggles and smiles. "It is my duty" seems to be a prevalent theme everywhere in this country when somebody does her job well. Obviously, there have to be some slackers, but most of what I've seen are lots of guards at attention, waiters and staff standing alert ready to assist, even baggage handlers at the airport standing in a line waiting for a plane to finish taxiing so that they could get the bags as quickly and efficiently as possible. Anyhow, we're comfortably resting in our little room at the Rosewood Inn.</span></p> <p> </p> <span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p> </p> <p><br /><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0730/556884092_Fs8vs-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding-top: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; ">Alex has planned the next few days (I can tell you in hindsight that she really did her homework). Karen's with Nora, and I'm writing lots of lots of stuff in case anybody has time to hear about our time in China.</p> <p>Of course, we've been thinking about all of the things our kids back home have been doing. It's so disorienting trying to make the 13 hour adjustment in time (and culture). This has been quite an experience for us, so I just had to write about it. We've been thinking of Amanda finishing up teaching at Holland Hall last week, and Jamie finishing up seventh grade this week. Make sure, Jamie, to tell all your good teachers how much you've enjoyed them. Ignore the one dolt. You'll remember many of them the rest of your life. I do.</p> <p>I reminded the girls to keep in touch with us via e-mail, now that we have regular access to a computer again. At six cents a minute, I told them to feel free to call long distance (Sophie would be happy to come get us). We'll be here for the next four days. We are mosquito food. And we're off (we hope) to get our first martini since leaving the US.</p><p><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/05/in-america-outdoor-cafes-along-river.html">Yangshuo is quaint</a></p></span><p></p></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> </span>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-23907701310132613612009-05-24T09:01:00.000-07:002018-10-04T08:22:50.038-07:005/24 - Guilin, for a wet and very different urban experience<span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p>The plan today was to explore the Seven Star Park and Cave today and trying to negotiate prices on a river cruise. Did I mention that everything needs to be negotiated? But as I learned, one must remain very flexible when having an adventure in China.</p> <span style="font-size:85%;"></span><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0395/556883132_g5K9T-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding: 6"></span> </p><p>As I left off back at the Zhongshan Hotel in Guilin, we spent two nights with minimal air conditioning and a view of the back side of the 5th floor hotel sign. The stay there all began after a miscommunication with our taxi driver. You must first imagine a growling Manchurian who repeats only one phrase in English "fir teen" over and over. We knew the taxi fare from the shuttle to our hotel should have run about 8 yuan, but since the shuttle kind of hit the end of its run in a dark, dead end alley and there was only one cab available, we were kind of stuck. We thought we'd agreed to fourteen ("fir teen"), but after arriving at the Zhongshan, he insisted on twenty. Alex let loose after we got into it telling the driver how he needed to improve his English speaking abilities. I'm sitting there holding two fives and four ones saying fourteen while the taxi driver is also saying fir teen (accent on the fir). We get some paper; he writes 20 and says, again, fir teen. A hotel employee and an official looking fellow gather round for the show. Nobody is budging. Imagine trying to communicate with somebody whose mouth is stuffed with a couple of socks. I paid him the extra dollar, writing it off to a few minutes of cultural enrichment. Alex was pissed. But the hotel staff then knew we were not to be trifled with. Hence, we received the warm, humid room with a sign across the window. And Karen wants me to add that the room reeked of cigarette smoke.</p></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p> </p> <span style="font-size:85%;"></span><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0410/556883216_gkqgx-L.jpg" width="268" height="400" style="float: right; padding: 6"></span> </p><p>Sunday morning, and we lazily used our free breakfast coupons. Fortunately, that was our last mistake of the week. We went exploring and found a travel agent to book our river cruise for Monday. He was charming, and convinced us that he could take us around Guilin and show us all the sights. We decided to take him up on it, since it was raining constantly, and he spoke decent English and provided a driver for the day (both of them for the bargain price of CNY130, or under US$20). "Jerry" took us to Longevity Hill, a complex (now an art university, or it could be an art factory) which was built for the emperor's cousins during the Ming Dynasty. Never mind it was bombed by the Japanese and then rebuilt after WWII. We wandered around the campus with lots of Chinese tourists, explored a small wet cave in the limestone karst adjacent to the buildings, then climbed (again) the thousand or so steep limestone steps up to the top of the karst mountain. (I describe a karst as a massive pimple of stratified limestone about ten times higher than it is wide...I think we were a thousand feet up.) Mind you, it is raining all this time, and these steps are well worn and slick. Often, areas of the incline are too narrow for more than one person at a time. Remembering what I'd seen of people "taking turns" driving around the city or walking in the subway, I was not very hopeful. But I was proved wrong. Chinese tourists were more than willing to use common sense and courtesy, and everything progressed in a fairly orderly fashion, with preference going to the out of breath people who were climbing up the mountain over those who were making the easier trek down. [Similarly, traffic seems to move in spite of the fact that lanes are irrelevant and traffic signals ignored. And it works for fast and slow vehicles, motor scooters, bicycles, carts, and pedestrians equally well.] A couple of nice photos at the top in the rain show Guilin a city in the clouds with lots of karst peaks piercing up intermittently.</p> <p> </p> <p> </p> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0379/556883073_BdGQB-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding: 6"></span><span style="font-family:Arial;">Once we got our bearings on the city, we drove up to Reed Flute Cave, where as we were proudly told, Bill Clinton and Ronald Reagan once visited (many of the locations in China have photoshopped posters on the walls of famous presidents standing behind the proprietors). Caving is a great idea on rainy days, for you'll get a little less wet. We loved the caves, and I got a few neat photos, thanks to the exotic lights which our friend Jerry would turn on for us as we entered each new area of the cave. For a long while, we had the cave to ourselves, and it was indeed spiritual.....until a tour group led by a megaphone finally spoiled the serene atmosphere. I'd set the camera on a flat surface, make some adjustments, click the shutter which was set to delay five seconds for the extra long exposures necessary, and then check out the results. We had fun. Good thing, because like EVERY tourist attraction, the beggars, hagglers, and street vendors await every visitor at the exit and one must walk the gauntlet of "hello, hello" and "just for you" and "come see" and "come look" in order to get back to the taxi. </span></p><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p> </p> <p>Still raining, so Jerry took us to the " Pearl Museum." We knew at the outset that it would be a sales spiel, but we got to see some nice jewelry (one necklace lasted five months before it fell apart). Karen and Alex were very impressed with the selection, and after looking at all the displays, I took a moment to get to know Jerry. Quite a dealer, locally, in just about anything tourist related. He explained how the driver got a percentage of any purchases at the "museum" which his clients made, and of course Jerry took a bit for himself from every ticket we purchased at all these places. After shopping, we did lunch. We got to hear Jerry slurp, chew with open mouth, and talk about our afternoon itinerary. He got a percentage of our pricey lunch, which was okay, because it was the first meal we'd had in a while in a more traditional setting with actual linen tablecloths and usable washroom facilities. The profitable museum shopping and his friend’s restaurant probably inspired him to push his luck and took us to his cousin's tea store. We had a free tea tasting, experiencing some good Pur tea mixed with hibiscus blossoms, and our mouths tingled for some time afterward. We were joined by a couple of arrogant BYU students who were finishing up milking a month-long grant they'd proudly received "for doing nothing" touring around south China, and had worn out their welcome with one of their travel mates. Didn't buy anything, since our friend Jiying (a teacher who had lived in our house in America as a guest for six months) had left us with a gift of some good tea.</p> <p> </p> <p>While waiting for our driver, Karen and Alex ran over to the Sheraton to use their facilities. Jerry pulled me into another museum, this time some fine art, the finest in the city, of course. And I was met by the professor of fine art, John, who was planning on traveling to NYU next January to teach his technique to the fine students at NYU. He was a person on cocaine as he shared his beautiful paper drawings, oil paintings, and other media for which he claimed to be the artist. He had several pieces on display in various museums in several countries, of course. He discounted his price at only his Guilin studio, and even at the discount price, he told me how he donates most of it to the victims of last year's earthquake. When I could finally get a word in edgewise that everything I bought in China, I had to carry in my backpack, so I wasn't in the market to carry anything, he told me that they could ship. I mentioned that although his work was beautiful, we had many beautiful pieces on our walls back home. He swiftly left the store and jumped on his bicycle to head off somewhere. We grabbed our umbrellas and jumped in the taxi.</p> <p> </p> <p> </p> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0385/556883120_Hpj2n-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding: 6"></span><span style="font-family:Arial;">Jerry then convinced us to head off to get massages. He knew of a place which offered one hour massages for CNY40, even less than the bargain we'd had with the blind people of Beijing. As we drove into a hospital, and he described the TCM ("Traditional Chinese Medicine") clinic where we'd be spending some time, I began to get those funny feelings which sometimes warn you to tread carefully. Let's say that after a week in China and the discussion I'd had with Jerry, who had an obsessive curiosity of how health insurance in the US worked, all I could see was Blue Cross receiving a bill for the TCM being laid out to Karen and Alex. We walked past a Chinese waiting room (which was interesting and doubtless not normally included on the standard tour of the city) filled with sick and crippled patients and then were introduced to the medical director of reflexology and herbal cures. We'd traded TCM for BS, and were kind and respectful as we learned about all the areas of the foot. I declined the massage and instead kept a very close eye on our money pouches and backpack as two young friendly apprentices worked Karen and Alex's feet and calves. Every once in a while Dr. Soon reappeared and calmly asked how we were doing (we were in the centermost area of a 3x3 maze of treatment areas each with five recliners). The masseurs predictably became giggly and very friendly when Alex finally shared her Chinese language talents (and after realizing that Alex probably understood the "private" discussion they thought they were having). I had this fantasy that I could be a part of this conversation, so I asked the male how long he'd worked there in the clinic. Alex translated that he'd been there for three years but wasn't paid well, which we took to be a polite hint that a tip would be appreciated. (Tips are rarely, if ever, given in China.) Unfortunately, by this time, Jerry had returned and their whole demeanor had changed. Rather than smiles and jabbering with Alex, they became quiet and expressionless (I'd concluded that Jerry had his hand in everything in Guilin and parts beyond. Still, he was a nice guy, just that one had to remember that he could not be trusted.) The tips Karen and Alex insisted on providing the two kids (CNY10 each) were accepted without any emotion or comment. </span></p><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p> </p> <p>We left the hospital without divulging any personal information or signing any paperwork, so I felt a bit less paranoid. Some of the best looking vegetables and fruits were located in carts right outside the hospital, it's just that I couldn't identify many of them by name (but I'm sure I'd been eating them).</p> <p> </p> <p> </p> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0403/556883190_McSpn-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding: 6"></span><span style="font-family:Arial;">Although Jerry was up for more attractions, we were pooped and asked to be returned to the hotel. After he gave us cell numbers of his friends in Yangshuo who could help us with our entertainment needs, we parted amicably. He recommended noodles in an area behind our hotel, and sure enough, we found a very filling dinner for about CNY9 for all three of us (lots of noodles with tender beef and some very sticky, greasy, sweet, chewy buns which gobbed on our teeth so badly that we had to buy a couple more). Alex loves the local alleys for dinner so that we get stares from every other diner. I don't think they had ever seen three round eyes eating so vigorously, but Alex was burping along with all of them. Our Sunday night entertainment consisted of walking along the river Li (loads of activity and we felt very safe...enjoyed looking at one restaurant's offerings of live snakes, rats, chicken, various fish, turtles, crawdads, and clams which would be very fresh as dinner) and later some television Chinese soap operas, which are actually quite fun. Alex picks up a word hear and there, and I play dub the storyline I would like to see, while Karen reads Nora Roberts.</span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/05/to-yangshuo-take-li-river-cruise.html">Take the Li River cruise to Yangshuo</a></span></p> <p> </p>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-15758658978932122302009-05-23T16:35:00.000-07:002018-10-04T08:21:32.844-07:005/23 - Leave Xi'an, Arrive Guilin<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0298/556882816_HM7oc-L.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0298/556882816_HM7oc-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><b>Morning</b><br /><br />We've been exploring the Muslim part of Xi'an (including the market and the mosque). More good food and great photo ops. The fried ball Alex is holding in the photo was filled with hot brown sugar, or something similarly sweet. We passed it around and tried to catch any drips of warm syrup. This was the breakfast treat responsible for the only drip on my multi-pocketed travel pants, which I wore every day of our China trip. I can't imagine wearing one pair of pants for two weeks at home, <img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0341/556882953_pv9aa-L.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt=""> but it seemed to be the right thing to do while in China. And now, we're borrowing the hostel's computer for about $1 an hour, waiting for some lunch. Must run. Catching a plane to Guilin later tonight.<div><br /><b>Evening</b><br /><br />We're being eaten by mosquitoes here at the Zhongshan Hotel in Guilin. Our air conditioner, well, I'm at a loss for words. It is very, VERY muggy. Or maybe the a/c just isn't working. And to think we're going into the woods and mountains, of which we caught a brief glimpse at sunset last night (though it was raining) from the windows of the airport shuttle.<br /><br />Xi'an was wonderful. Wide streets, safe, friendly people. We foolishly ate pizza (Alex had a craving) at the hostel and changed our Guilin hotel reservations because of the lack of any response to repeated phone calls to the hotel. Hence, we're now at the Zhongshan Hotel in Guilin, which offers multiple sex oils and condom options on top of each nightstand and even more variety on the counter in the bathroom. Our 5th floor room has a lovely view of the back of the hotel's eight-foot high sign. Anyhow, back in Xi'an, we finished lunch and walked up yet another bell tower. Unlike many stairwells which have two hundred steep steps in a straight shot, fortunately, Xi'an 's bell tower broke its climb into multiple landings, my favorite being six steps, landing, do a 90 degree turn, six more, 90 degree, etc.<img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0372/556883038_wEv2m-L.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" border="0" alt=""> That was much nicer, although there were probably as many steps all told. I have a neat photo of a six year old girl riding on the back of her mother's moped far, far below. (Look closely and you'll see their little scooter in the center of the traffic triangle.) Looks like she's headed off to violin practice, although Alex called the instrument something else. I have a series of photos showing how they navigated through two buses, twenty speeding cars, and ultimately survived in spite of one shot where two cars are converging with the moped in between. This was a common site on the roads of a typical Chinese city. Met some nice Americans who recommended some places in Yangshuo, which we might try (since we still haven't quite worked out the details with Mr. Wong at the Rosewood Inn down there).<br /><br /><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0340/556882938_dK5rs-L.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt=""></div><div>Driving out to the Xi'an airport was neat. Of course, the main city is beautiful. Surrounded by the original wall (I think 18 meters high and about the same in width at the base), all of brick. The wall was very substantial, like most of the other old buildings. We saw at least three nuclear power plants around Xi'an, so I'd assume they have a bunch of power. Like I said, though, it isn't always used on air conditioning. The flight on China Eastern was nice. Only about twenty westerners boarded, and then after about ten minutes, all the rest of the seats were quickly taken by some very excited locals, many of whom seemed to have never flown before. One fellow five rows up from us had to be reminded to sit down so often that it was comical. It couldn't have been written any funnier.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/05/guilin-for-wet-and-very-different-urban.html">A rainy Sunday in Guilin</a></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-20649176078875554002009-05-22T14:11:00.000-07:002018-10-04T08:20:21.879-07:005/22 - Xian is full of beautiful young people (so stay at the youth hostel, even if you're ancient)<span style="font-size:85%;"></span><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0157/556882222_EiBU4-L.jpg" width="268" height="400" style="float: right; padding: 6"></span>We stepped off the train Friday morning. Everyone else knew we'd arrived, but all the westerners just kind of looked at each other until a porter came along and said we <i>had</i> to get off. We found a bus and rode it to the city center, thanks to our wonderfully experienced tour guide and interpreter Alex. Then to the Xi'an Youth Hostel, a great value right in the center of the city next to the local bell tower. For about USD$25 a night, my only complaint might be that the room's bathroom could have used a makeover. You may have already heard that even if modern bath facilities in China look western, they don't always seem to include rather functional features like S-traps. One seemed to be treated to the occasional funny sound or smell. Dropped our bags and then ran off to see all the warriors. Like every tourist presented with thousands of life-sized clay statues, we took several photos, but since we no longer had regular access to a computer, it would be a while before I was able to get Xi'an photos uploaded.<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0172/556882289_smMZJ-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding: 6"></span>Then we traveled around Xi'an to sightsee (bus rides are so much fun when everyone looks at you like you're an animal in the zoo) followed by a quick shower. Alex located a little family owned five-table (if not star) diner and we had lots of noodles and potstickers. Yes, we had quite a few tall beers as well. Found the Xi'an Opera, and Alex and I decided that we'd give it a try (dropped Karen back at the hostel so she could read some Nora and get some rest).<span style="font-size:85%;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0197/556882366_Jbzem-L.jpg" width="268" height="400" style="float: right; padding: 6"></span>Enjoyed the music, costumes, dancing, and what we concluded was canned singing, but all in all, great experience. Forgot to tell Karen that the custom of local theatre-goers seems to be to simply talk at regular conversation levels during the performance. Also, it's apparently fine to relocate to better seats at any time during the show, or to get up and go sit with a friend who might have just arrived. And to think I was for a short time concerned about wearing shorts and my Hawaiian shirt.<span style="font-size:85%;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0283/556882712_ZeG3h-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding: 6"></span><br />Alex and I enjoyed Friday night walking back from the opera house and sampling (what else) more food. Some real spicy lamb on a stick was even spicier the next morning. Ouch. I bought some drinks which I think were like Sprite. The streets of downtown Xi'an on a Friday evening are filled with young and beautiful people, though I really couldn't comment on what anybody was doing because I still don't know for certain. They all seemed to know each other and were very happy just to be there. Thankfully the rain had cleared, the evening was 72 and perfectly clear, and we enjoyed again being the center of the entertainment. Alex turned more heads than I could count. I had a very decent night's sleep at the hostel.<br /><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/05/leave-xian-arrive-guilin.html">Off to Guilin</a></p>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-31181553691463887602009-05-21T22:08:00.000-07:002018-10-04T08:18:52.561-07:005/21 - There are cities other than Beijing in China (but Beijing is a lot of fun)<span style="font-size:85%;"></span><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC9935/556881587_WmMjh-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: right; padding: 6"></span>Thursday morning here now, and we're due for a day of "rest" around here until we check out at noon, take our bags up to Tsinghua, take just the clothes we'll need for the next 8 days and stuff them in our backpacks, and meet up with Stevo for dinner on the way to the train station for an overnight trek to Xi'an. The next post will come (hopefully) from somewhere on the Silk Road, though the road would be better described as dusty or well worn and very dirty. I’m amazed at the number of people who spend most of their days sweeping dirt from the Beijing sidewalks using hand made straw brooms.<br /><br />Thought about my youngest daughter's acting recital and wondering how it went back in the US. Was also thinking of several of her operas while wandering the Summer Palace . There was the main opera house, as I’ve mentioned, a grand outdoor stage where, historically, visiting foreign dignitaries (now us) were able to enjoy some local show tunes. We were entertained by two singers, dressed in yellow gold silk and moving in unison while singing some beautiful chant. We toured a bit more, then on our way past the stage again, there appeared to be a half dozen musicians playing bamboo and strumming chickens (or preparing them for dinner). It was magnificent. No, honestly, I don't know what they were strumming, which pretty much sums up how well I can identify what we've been eating. I think we just use the word "chicken" in the same way we used to tell the girls while growing up that chicken was the main ingredient of clam chowder in order to get them to eat it.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0120/556882096_ReGH4-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding: 6"></span>We're off to find some "chicken" for breakfast. Instead of eating out faithful burrito (which we should have done), we climbed our first Bell Tower (the adjacent Drum Tower was closed for renovations) to escape a rickshaw driver. He’d waited for us anyhow, since he’d successfully convinced me to say "maybe" we'd hire him when we went in, and although he was disappointed after we said we wanted to walk, he became distracted and left after a cyclist crashed into me. The lady apologized profusely, even though I’m certain it was my fault, and what little discomfort I felt was nothing compared to the pleasure of avoiding the incessant hounding of the street vendors. We walked the other direction around Houhai ("Ho" "Hi") Lake in central Beijing. We walked past a six hundred-year-old bridge, which still supports traffic (which is good, since I realized our taxi had driven over it the night before). Houhai has become a popular spot for tourists and young expatriates. The lake is surrounded by old people and children, though we had our share of vendors to deal with in the more touristy parts of the park. It seemed many of the older residents wandering the streets wore name or address tags. Could these be simply aids for a concerned neighbor to help point the elderly in the right direction? After all, I’d seen many instances of people assisting older folks by holding their arms while walking along the sidewalks. I’d like to think that this was the purpose of the necklaces, so that I could imagine a very sensitive and caring society.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0094/556882008_qBGuf-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: right; padding: 6"></span>We couldn’t help but laugh when we saw several men wearing Speedo swimsuits as they prepared for their morning swim in Houhai after using the exercise equipment at the lake’s edge. But these were brave souls, swimming in any body of water in China we had concluded was off limits for our family, and the water temperature had to have been fairly brisk. One unusually tall fellow smiled broadly and said proudly, in English, "Welcome!" It was too charming, and both Karen and I did what we could to communicate our friendliness back.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0123/556882114_FCVPy-L.jpg" width="268" height="400" style="float: left; padding: 6"></span>We checked out of our hotel before noon. Karen and I felt like we'd already accomplished quite a bit, a couple of round eyes carrying their backpacks, rolling their bags, and flagging down a taxi to get up to Tsinghua. Too bad the front desk had written "North Gate" rather than "Northeast Gate" (a rather major difference at a large university). Ultimately, I had to get Alex on the cell phone (smart move of Steven’s to provide us with a temporary cell phone) to explain to our driver where we needed to go.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0106/556882075_ckrzC-L.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0106/556882075_ckrzC-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br />Alex needed some alone time. She was recovering from concert, which was some American band. The venue had been so crowded and so hot that Alex and Steven had both become dehydrated. While she relaxed and visited with a friend on Skype, Karen and I ventured out alone. Since we’d been unsuccessful at finding breakfast, we were more than a bit hungry. We were able to find the cafeteria at which we’d eaten on Tuesday, and Alex had given us her meal card. But you would be surprised how difficult it is to order food when all one sees is Chinese symbols. Although we’d made it in time to catch lunch, and there were still a dozen windows open, we had to simply stand there like idiots and watch the various dishes being set on the stainless steel counters until some person who had ordered came along to collect them. I ran after a student, hoping he might speak a bit of English, to ask him what he called the bowl of noodles, broth, veggies, and hard boiled egg he had carried off. He was very friendly, and tried two times to help me pronounce the name of the dish, unsuccessfully I’ll admit. He then offered to buy me the dish using his meal card. Maybe he thought I was a visiting professor, but I think he was just being compassionate. I think I thanked him, but every time I said "she she" it probably sounded more like "shay shay" (and I couldn’t help but think of Arnold Schwarzenegger and his thick accent). Karen and I settled on simply grabbing a few of the dishes as they were set out, hoping not to offend anyone, but letting our stomachs dictate our needs. We swiped Alex's meal card and assume we paid for someone's food.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0148/556882152_bh2mp-L.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0148/556882152_bh2mp-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br />Back to Alex’s place for a brief nap. We ran out of time and couldn't meet Steven for dinner as planned, so we grabbed a taxi to take us to a favorite restaurant of Alex's. Traffic had come to a complete stop, so our driver decided to climb the curb and drive on the sidewalk for the two hundred yards to the next intersection. I don't think the photos I took sitting in the front passenger seat really captured the experience as much as I'd hoped, but you'll just have to understand (as I was beginning to) that it was just another afternoon on the streets (sidewalks) of Beijing. We went to some sushi place near the university. We didn’t ask where the fish came from, but it was tender and buttery, quite exceptional really, and like every other place we’d eaten, cheap. The waitresses were petite, at attention, smiling, dressed alike in red and gold, and ready to serve. Afterward, we took a taxi to one of several of Beijing’s train stations, stopping just short so that the girls could run in the upscale three-story contemporary shopping mall to find a rest room.By the reaction of most of the people at the train station, very few Americans ride the night train. We kept a close eye on all of our belongings while Alex bought us all some Propel-like drinks and enough water to last through the night. We boarded our train and found Alex's top bunk. Karen and I were in a different car, and we also had top bunks. We were luckier than Alex, who would be sleeping in the same car as a screaming child. She spent the first hour or two of the trip up in my bunk. We played lots of poker until we could no longer keep our eyes open. I slept with my money pouch suspended around my neck.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0152/556882166_53KCu-L.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0152/556882166_53KCu-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br />Another cultural experience, sharing a room with a Chinese couple. We were completely unable to communicate with our lower bunkmates, though while the wife was off to use the facilities, the husband decided to make every bodily noise possible, as loudly as possible. Karen and I found it oddly amusing, for he didn’t make any effort to excuse himself or say anything, as one might expect according to Western decorum. I was beginning to think that in China I could get away with just about anything, and it made me feel incredibly young.That didn’t last long. Although I slept well, by body was very sore. Using the moving train’s very small bathroom to brush my teeth with bottled water was an adventure in itself. The tracks around Beijing made for a very smooth ride, and we hardly noticed when we’d started out. That was not the case as we approached Xi’an, and the sounds and movement of the train were noticeably apparent.</p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;"></span></p><p><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/05/there-are-cities-other-than-beijing-in.html"></a><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/10/xian-is-full-of-beautiful-young-people.html">Continue with us to Xian...</a><br /><br /><i>Author's note: Many more photos from the fifteen day trip around China can be found at <a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China">http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China</a></i></p><div><i><br /></i></div><p></p>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-73839235712401009462009-05-20T10:27:00.000-07:002018-10-04T08:13:44.039-07:005/20 - Second day in Beijing (you will be sore, and you will get a great massage)<span style="font-size:85%;"></span><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0061/556881902_SAiNG-L.jpg" width="268" height="400" style="float: left; padding: 6" /></span><span style="font-family:Arial;">We've had such a great time and are already very sore to prove it.<br /><br />We ventured out on our own this morning to treat ourselves to a great breakfast burrito (for lack of a better Chinese term), two of them for 3 yuan (about fifty cents).</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">Caught a taxi (39 yuan, about six dollars) up to the Summer Palace and spent an amazing day exploring each of the many royal buildings which border a beautiful lake (I assume it was once very beautiful).<br /><br />A couple of traditional opera singers danced elegantly while a musician played some stringed instrument (a few days later, and I could name all of the traditional stringed instruments of China).<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC9960/556881644_tghHz-L.jpg" width="268" height="400" style="position: relative; float: right; padding: 6" /></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> Alex came out and met us at the exit gate after her classes ended. We ate a fine lunch of tall beers, leeks, beef, and spicy chicken and watched as Alex overwhelmed the proprietors with her Chinese language skills (it's readily apparent that few young blonde Americans speak Chinese), all while her taxi driver patiently waited to take us 50km farther north to the Ming Tombs. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">We spent the afternoon deep in the 600 year-old main tomb and later along a substantial stone wall (20 feet wide and 50 feet high and probably a half mile in circumference) which, wonderfully, the three of us explored by ourselves. From the wall we could see many of the twelve distant, grand emperor tombs of the Ming Dynasty. Our driver waited patiently to deliver us back to our hotel where we tried to clean up a bit before meeting up with Steven at his favorite restaurant run by some Mongol friends. </span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></p><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p> </p> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> </span><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0078/556881949_b4SCW-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding: 6" /></span><span style="font-family:Arial;">We ate a large dinner of beer, roasted garlic on skewers, skewered lamb, fried potato slices, kung pao cabbage (Stevo knows the recipe), spicy green pepper chicken, beef with unidentifiable veggies, chicken in a red sauce, and fried bread to help soak up all the various wonderful flavors. We enjoyed this feast on a '50's formica table on the sidewalk outside the Mongolian restaurant, which was far too crowded inside. We were entertained by our 10-year-old waiter and a group of young people involved in a lover's dispute (a dramatic spat where two suitors shouted and pushed one another, with girlfriends pretending to hold them back, assisted by the boys friends and others). Mind you, this was just a few feet away from our table in the alley. I considered it another fine cultural education. I found the young lady jumping up and down on a padded, overstuffed living room chair across the alley to be even more intriguing. She jumped uninterrupted for well over an hour, apparently practicing for the rhythmic gymnastics sport of baton tw</span><span style="font-family:Arial;">irling.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0080/556881973_4poiG-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="position: relative; float: right; padding: 6" /></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> We weren't sure of her age, somewhere between seven and thirty (like my estimate of just about every person I saw in Beijing), but she bounced in her long cotton summer dress, oblivious to the commotion and crowd all around her. After it got pretty dark and the love spat performers had cleared, the toddlers and little ones were encouraged to play in the alley. Grandma let one little 3-year-old have it, whacking him on the head a dozen times with a rolled up newspaper, after he'd almost been run down by a bicycle. Surprising thing is that I felt it was totally appropriate. The kids had better learn young that pedestrians need to avoid bicycles, which need to avoid scooters, which need to avoid cars, which need to avoid buses because there is no formal hierarchy. There are no rules. If there is an open space, however brief, it will become filled with some mode of transportation, if only for an instant. I'd describe all of the near misses we witnessed, but it is not possible to remember them all, even for a single cab trip. Let me summarize by just saying it is a constant hum of chaos, yet it seems to work very efficiently. We only saw one traffic mishap returning from the Tombs, and it only involved four crunched cars and some drivers yelling at one another.</span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><br /></span></p><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p> </p> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><p> </p> <p> </p> </span><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC0103/556882033_ucBR3-L.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding: 6" /></span><span style="font-family:Arial;">After dinner, we grabbed another cab to return to near our hotel. Steven found a nearby public neighborhood toilet so that he and Karen could make one of their three visits (they both blamed the Holt bladders and Chinese beers). A wise move, because all four of us spent the next hour getting full body massages from very nice blind masseurs, spending a whopping fifty yuan. Steven made sure I was provided with Master Li, who had the strongest hands of any human I've ever encountered or imagined. He found every sore, tight muscle I'd ever had, and worked every joint until it popped or clicked into place. He even spoke a small amount of English, but I was in such a state of total relaxation that I couldn't form two words myself. But it wasn't necessary. Steven was on the table next to me, and he was speaking up a storm with Master Li, laughing at every grunt coming from me. Toss in Alex a few tables to my right, and the two of them kept the masseurs in stitches with their mastery of the language. Or at least I thought it was funny. I have no idea what they said. </span></p> <p> </p> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></p><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <p> </p> <p>You'd think the day had been full enough. Turns out this massage parlor is just a few hundred yards from our own Bamboo Garden, where an hour at the hotel spa ran ten times as much, and Karen and I did indeed call it a day. We'd already called upon our fourth winds to enable us to walk any more steps after the $7 hour-long massage. Alex and Steven, however, were headed off to a rock concert at a local venue (never mind that it's 9:45 pm). We were asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillows. </p><p></p><p><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/05/there-are-cities-other-than-beijing-in.html">Continue to travel beyond Beijing...<br /></a><br /><i>Author's note: Many more photos from the fifteen day trip around China can be found at <a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China">http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China</a></i></p><div><i><br /></i></div><p></p></span>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-55500837238546419542009-05-19T09:33:00.000-07:002018-10-04T08:12:49.762-07:005/19 - First full day in Beijing (you will survive)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC9884/556881408_kmHTp-S.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC9884/556881408_kmHTp-S.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">Alex spent last (Monday) night at the Bamboo Garden Hotel with us. She had insisted on meeting our flight. She was much too tired after taking a train and shuttle, then arriving at the airport only ten minutes before we did (in spite of the fact that we were over an hour late because of health questionnaires and flu screening). She was very relieved to find the nice driver sent by the hotel holding up a "Gribbin" sign, who told her that we hadn’t yet emerged from customs. (The hotel wisely sends a driver who is able to locate its tall wooden entry gate from the alley, since it is a boutique hotel buried in the middle of a Beijing hutong, quite removed the the main street.) Since the airport’s moving sidewalks and air conditioning had been turned off several hours earlier to conserve electricity, most of the passengers were showing the effects of heat, humidity, and very long international flights.</span></p><img src="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC9887/556881423_rDLGW-S.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" border="0" alt="" /><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;">Tuesday morning, Alex showed us how it's done for breakfast, Beijing style. We sampled a variety of breakfast items from three different street vendors. I guess they should be called garage door vendors, since they operate from the bottom floor of a very prevalent four-story building type we saw throughout China. We enjoyed greasy but very good fried dough balls in brown craft paper. Best were the really hot and delicious breakfast "burritos" (crepes made on a well used round hot plate and filled with spicy sauce, scrambled eggs, veggies, and crunchy things) in some tissue thin plastic. The plastic was so thin, and burrito so hot, that I still can't believe the plastic didn't melt. Breakfast vendors seem to work from about 5:30 to 9:30 every morning (after which I presume they become lunch vendors). Alex showed us the art of navigating the Beijing subway and we rode it up to Tsinghua </span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC9892/556881460_xfYwy-S.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: right; padding: 6; position: relative" /></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> University. We hired a cab for the final mile or two because the university is huge. We hoped that she might actually attend at least some of her Tuesday classes. We saw Alex's dorm room, after showing the front desk our passports. The university spoils its foreign students, considering it was a large single. Normally dorm rooms that size housed four to six Chinese students. We met loads of Alex's buddies from many parts of the world, whom she likes to pair up with to explore other parts of China or just hang with at the university to play soccer. We grabbed a satisfying lunch at the cafeteria, and bought Dave's Tsinghua hat. Borrowed two more bicycles so that the three of us could pedal around the university, which we did for a couple of hours. Took a cab so that we could meet up with Cousin Steven at a Barnes & Noble like bookstore, where he was giving a Nature Conservancy presentation. I was very tempted by the low priced, beautiful art and photography books, but since few contained any English text, I showed great restraint. Went to his two room apartment in the heart of Beijing, which he rents for about $200 a month, communal toilet and all (though he does have a shower in his kitchen). Met his rather homely cat, its bizarre and uneven fur implying that it had one too many encounters with live power lines. </span><p></p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <img src="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC9919/556881556_jL7Gy-S.jpg" width="400" height="268" style="float: left; padding: 6" /> Grabbed a wonderful meal nearby and got to watch some Chinese businessmen drink too much baijo, the kerosene flavored rice wine priced at about two yuan per bottle. We watched as one of the fellows exceeded his limits, and we knew that it would just be a matter of time before he lost his dinner (which he promptly did into one of the larger dining room planters). Since this was our first cultural exchange, I really didn’t know what to think about his behavior. After all, George Bush the senior threw up on the Japanese prime minister at a state dinner decades ago, and I’d already seen loads of people spitting up all sorts of vile substances while walking on the Beijing sidewalks. More to the point, few restaurants have bathroom facilities anyway, and this fellow was hardly able to walk to the nearest communal bathroom, several buildings away. Took a taxi to our hotel, and Alex continued on in the same car to the university.</span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><p><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/05/second-day-in-beijing-you-will-be-sore.html">Continue to second day in Beijing...</a><br /><br /><i>Author's note: Many more photos from the fifteen day trip around China can be found at<a href="http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China">http://www.davegribbin.com/Photography/China</a></i></p><div><i><br /></i></div></span><p></p>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397472164208334008.post-3380025675573965552009-05-18T09:24:00.000-07:002009-12-04T04:14:12.174-08:005/18 - Beijing for the naive traveller (expect the unexpected)<script type="text/javascript"><br />var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");<br />document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));<br /></script><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br />try {<br />var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker("UA-11359529-1");<br />pageTracker._trackPageview();<br />} catch(err) {}</script><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://photos.davegribbin.com/Photography/China/DSC9966/556881676_K5STQ-L.jpg" border="0" alt="Click here for hundreds of photos from this trip" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"> <ul> <li><i>Arrive Beijing. We are on the ground and in line to be deemed healthy enough to enter China. Haven't seen Alex yet but should be soon!</i></li> <li><i>Dave and I have landed, been deemed healthy enough to enter China (only took about an hour or so of standing in line) and have successfully found Alex and our hotel. Absolutely delightful little place--looking forward to exploring tomorrow. Plan to explore Alex's school and Olympics area the meet up with Steven.</i></li> <li><i>What an adventure!</i><br /></li></ul> <p>Karen's e-mails from her Blackberry (above) are short and concise. I would have been wise to have learned from her example. My comments (from this point on, equivalent to about 52 pages in MS Word, also called a short novel by some) are a little longer. I'd have written even more. Fortunately, I didn't have regular access to a computer for the first several days. By the time I found a computer, I was already overwhelmed by the visual and other stimuli of this first visit to China. So, bear with me as I try to describe an exotic experience from my naive point of view. The balance of the trip becomes even more flavorful, and I think, makes for better reading. And like everything I’ve ever written, it’s all true.</p><p><a href="http://davegribbin.blogspot.com/2009/05/first-day-in-beijing.html">Continue to first full day in Beijing...</a><br /><br /><i>Author's note: Many more photos from the fifteen day trip around China can be found at <a href="http://photos.davegribbin.com/Photography/China">http://photos.davegribbin.com/Photography/China</a></i></p><p><br /></p></span>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01796142110345497014noreply@blogger.com0