nice surprises.

This is the photo we used on Rowan's birthday party invitation. I had big intentions of printing invitations, but time was running out, so I just sent an Evite. Also, because I couldn't find a recent picture of him that I was happy with on account of its clarity.

But the more I look at this photograph, the more I love it. You can see all six of his teeth. And he has that smile he has right before he starts to do his happy dance.

You are all invited to his birthday. He turns a whopping one year old on January 27.

Right now the little bugger is sick and asleep and cozy on my lap. 

What are you up to?

so much love.

This morning I start working around 5 a.m. By 9 a.m., I cry tiny tear rivers after reading Mona Simpson's eulogy for Steve Jobs. His final words and realization: Oh wow oh wow oh wow. What did he see?

At noon, my aunt comes over with her grandchildren. We stroll to the beach, picnic, the girls make sandcastles in the sand in weather so much sunnier than summer. When we walk by the hospital where my uncle died, my aunt mentions not liking that hospital. It's Halloween. The eldest grandchild asks in a spooky voice if it's a scary hospital. "Oh, well, it is to me," my aunt replies. To me all hospitals are scary, I think.

Early evening rolls around and S and I are deciding on the overly cozy pea-in-the-pod costume or the thinner Dracula costume. It's hot outside (and Rowan's a little milk vampire), so we go with the latter. We meet up with friends and walk around downtown where one of my best friends is accused of wearing a pregnant lady costume. Of course, it's a real belly with a real baby inside, who will soon join this world; 7 billion something in the big scheme of the world population.

{dracula by elena grover}

And what a complicated 7 billion we are, with as many legacies. Imagine if we could all hire eloquent biographers to distill our lives into hardcover books. Someone so interested in our lives that they interview our friends and family to get to know us on multiple levels. This is what I wanted to do for my mom when I was much younger. Of course it wasn't for her, it was for me. I knew that then as I know it now. Still, nothing has ever come of that desire because of bashfulness, laziness, fear. 

Once our overly tired vampire is sleeping, S and I eat dinner. I tear up again, describing Mona's eulogy and Steve's' last words. I recall the last words of my mom as heard by my aunt: I see nana and Sharon (her sister who died only months before she did), and so much love.

It's Halloween. The day the invisible wall between our world and the spirit world thins. Today I feel like I'm peeking through to the other side. I see light. I see a mirror reflecting this life--in its various stages--back at me.

What do you see?

2 gargoyles + 3 months = 1 love.

A few weeks ago, a busy girlfriend of mine penciled us in for a babysitting date. She's a teacher, pregnant with her second daughter, and even though she's exhausted she insisted on babysitting R one day during her spring break. She said it's good for S and I to spend some time alone together. 

It was my first time away from snickerdoo--who is three months old today! And the first time S + I have been alone together, since he was born. We tried to think of something to do that you cannot do with a baby (and that is semi-close to where my friend lives in south San Jose). Museum, movie? But we wanted to be outside, it was such a beautiful day! A seedy dive bar? But there are lots of baby-friendly bars + pubs around. Who wants to dive into a dark bar during the day on a Tuesday, when the weather is so grand? Basically everywhere we wanted to go, we wanted to bring R along too. But we took her up on it... 

{here's a sunny preview}

Any hot dates lately?

peace. what's different?

When you leave and return to a place, you notice things. Aside from the higher bridge tolls and higher sales tax. Almost 10%, really? New fangled ways of living.

• Everybody owns an iPhone. 
• (yet) It's illegal to talk on said iPhone while driving. 
• The highways don radio signs (which slow traffic), advertising child abductions and the approximate times to various locations. 
• Sometimes the radio signs mention that texting tickets can be $159+ so they aren't worth it.
• There are texting tickets.
• Pedestrians have to stop, push a button and wait for the green walky guy at random sections of sidewalk/driveway. 
• Finding apartments is treacherous and include none of the utilities (not even sewage, people!)
• Cell phone plans count the minutes of incoming calls in addition to outgoing calls.
• You can have internet at home without owning a home phone.
• Light bulbs. What can I say, you are completely different!

• Meanwhile 880 is still a potholed ghetto highway, to be avoided (even though I live right off of it now).
• Those precarious radio stations, like 92.3, still change every other week, while KFOG still thrums acoustic sunrise and sunset on Sundays and KZSM goes crazy about the blues every Friday night.
• Happy revelers fly kites, play music and dance in the parks of San Francisco to celebrate spring.
• My old good friends are still my good friends, even though it's been years since we've kept in touch regularly.
• Peaceful moments are still peaceful moments. 

{via}

Right now the sun's setting in our living room, streaking it shades of yellow and deepening orange. Rowan's asleep in his swing, which swishes rhythmically. Kids squeal in play and kick around a soccer ball down at the park across the way. Blackbirds and wrens chirp. I'm rocking in the glider and typing, about to get myself some tea. 

on moving.

After being here four months, we finally found an apartment and moved into it. This meant rediscovering everything that had been in boxes in my aunt’s garage for the past 3.5 years. And the stuff we’d carried with us from Chile. Not to mention packing and unpacking the stuff we’d accumulated since (re)arriving to California. 

{image}

Anyway. During all this unpacking, I opened several old journals. Many starts lasting fewer than days with some tome-like miracles thrown in. I flipped through and read an entry here, a soppy digression there. At every new journal beginning and often in between, I lament the lack of storyline. What happened after August 23, 2005, and before January 7, 2009? Even though huge gaps glare at me from my past, I’m generally, momentarily, fascinated by what’s been noted. I feel like I’m snooping a peek into somebody else’s life. Have you ever felt like this looking back at your own writing?  

So, what’s happened since December 2, 2010, since we entered the States. Even though I feel the urge to somehow fill in the blanks, I know the blanks aren’t all that interesting. A bulleted list can’t penetrate the psychology of a timeline. So, I start here. We are now three in our own place, and it feels good. 

We have internet now, and that feels great. Let’s just say I’ve missed you all so much. Thank you for your lovely notes, comments and mail. I so look forward to catching up in the coming weeks. 

Do you keep a journal? Regularly? And how do you manage it?

happy holidays.

Right now I feel a little like swinging high till the chain loosens enough for my stomach to enter the heart of my throat before it plops back down again in a tightening creak. It all happens so fast. And then there's that feeling that you can do it over and over again. And if you're older and haven't swung in a while, you may find it's even good exercise.

{torres del paine swinging : by serkan yalin}

We are squaring away newborn insurance for next year and apartment hunting. It makes me squirmy, as I find sitting in some chairs for more than 20 minutes unbearable. Not to mention the actual apartment viewing part and the fact that my decision-making skills are shot. On the other hand, it's remarkable (even if I do say so myself) how many decisions we've made since we arrived. I'm so happy the seats in our new 1999 car are comfortable (and have seat warmers). I'm happy to take those wheels and reunite with long-time friends. To share Christmas with family, to breathe in the pine of my auntie's colorful Christmas tree. To return to little girls so grown up, to our growing family with my growing belly--knees kneading me from the inside and eyelids blinking between sleep.

I miss you, dear blog friends. Sending you light wishes and delight. That your transition into the new year be warm and love-filled, ever.

dear friends.

Looks like I'm going to need more time on the international move front. Who knew it would be so much work? I thought I would have seen more people by now and be back caught up with emails and blogs.  They say the moodiness of the first trimester revisits in the third. And, while it certainly isn't as difficult as my first tri, I certainly burst into tears more than I would like. I thank my lucky stars and clouds for my loving, supportive family, and of course, my dear husband of infinite patience. During the day, autumn's colors do make me smile... if only the days lasted a little bit longer.

The good news is we have pretty much decided on the birth center. We start appointments there tomorrow and pick up the beginning of all the birthing classes we need to take on Thursday. In Natales we were sans classes (and a whole lot else)--an idea I had to get used to, but it's wonderful to have more options and better (+ holistic) care. We also figured out my health insurance. All those people with pre-existing conditions can get insurance now, a little something called Pre-Existing Conditions Insurance Plan. (I'm not going to get all political on you, but I'll just say this totally rocks and relieves many of my worries.) We also bought a car today, which will require lots more errands in the coming days.

So, slowly but surely, we're finding our way. Getting settled. Phones, S's social security card + driver's license, holidays, and maybe a baby shower to follow soon. Not to mention where to live and jobs.  Posting will continue to be sparse this week. In the meantime, thank you so much for your emails, kind words and welcome homes. Please bear with me. :)

thank you.

We've been a little busy around here, so my posts have been intermittent. In honor of (American) Thanksgiving (and love), I thought I'd move my usual spot of Friday gratitude to today. And put it in a simple short list of thankfuls...

{sol : colonia, uruguay : by me}

family and friends and reconnections

the ability to travel and to return (erm, married + with child)

birdsong

the art of letting go--perhaps impossible to master, but I've grown heaps in this area of letting go of non-material things

sweet mail with tiny lettering

the cheesecake baked and the apple crisp still but a glimmer in my imagination

a gringo thanksgiving at the end of the world

that candle wax accidents can be removed (note to teenage me: do not cut the carpet fringe)

internet (because, really, how was 14-year old me supposed to know how to get the wax out?)

frutillas regionales

to explore "home" for a lifetime, to discover it's everywhere S + I are together

to adapt together

waking up refreshed

the first hug of the morning

baby hiccups, elbows and knees that pop and somersault around my womb

light

What thanks are you giving today?

a quiet conversation.

Our snaky U-turn of plans has kept my mind pretty active, so I've been a little absent. All the posts I plan to write slip a little deeper into the void. Who will shine their light on them there?

{just imagine : "imagination is more important than knowledge"}

Yesterday I delivered six kilos of jam to a friend in distress. A worried mother handed me the too-heavy bag, pleaing with her eyes. One jar broke in our bags on the trip. Tomorrow, a worried mother travels here from Santiago to help daughter get back on her feet. In the quiet of an upturned apartment, she looked for something to give me. We flipped through a photocopied book of ayurvedic remedies in English. She prepared me a small jar of coconut oil to ward off stretch marks. Finally settling on a pen (pluma) she created out of feather quills (plumas) during our difficult winter, where she hardly slept. Of course I should give you a pen; you're a writer, she says, of course! No one ever really knows the distress of another, until the worst is over or until it blankets us with its hot chill weight.

Over breakfast, S laughs at how I fill our cereal bowls. Brimming. I say the bowls are so small, and I like to see the milk rim the fruit. He points out that I pour everything that way: water, juice, beer, coffee, tea, the ice cube tray. No wonder I spill a little constantly. We've found another way to define humanity: those who pour full and those who leave a little space. Still, the tambourines play for everybody.

{peaceful understanding : "peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding"}

When one of my best friends here calls and S answers, the first thing she might say to me on the phone is how difficult he is to understand. When he tells me she's called, he too mentions how difficult she is to understand. One of my jobs teaching English classes (and--it seems--as a human being) is to help people feel understood. Now to remember to include myself in that little equation.

{photos by J. P. McAdie from her awesome set according to einstein; quoted thoughts are einstein's}

friday present: awarded

Yesterday, the spunky and dear hearted Kelli at { bug miscellany } graced my little blog with this award. If you're not already familiar with the bug, go check her out!

This girl stole my heart with her sparkling humor, love of flannels, and her current sprinkle obsession. To receive the award, I'm supposed to mention some things that I love. So I figured it's perfect for my Friday thankfulness series.

Loving cinnamon rolls,

{from my first go around baking these bad boys}

I slightly modify this recipe from Smitten Kitchen, and like to make the glaze with a light citrus zest. As I write this and wait for the dough to rise, I'm wearing my happy purple apron.

the return of friends--

{photo by Silvia Gialinà}

My baking plan for this weekend revolved around cheesecake. Not only because I'm obsessed, but because my husband's been requesting it for a few weeks now. But when my dear friends arrived--oh so tan and smiley--from the States, the first thing I heard was that I just had to make cinnamon rolls. What can I say, I'm happy to oblige eat the profits.

+ speaking of aprons--

{gold glitter flower apron}

Somewhere along the line, I discovered that I really do love a good apron. I have my eye on this one right now, but there are so many sassy aprons out there. Dia de los Muertos, anyone? I might have to expand on this mini obsession later.

and because i love to be awed...

{alive but dead by peter callesen}

Y'all have spread so much art love this week, I just have to share. Ren of Lady of the Arts posted about one-paper art by Peter Callesen. His exhibit Out of Nothing is currently showing in Sweden. Then Poppies and Sunshine posted some amazing photos of dollar bills origami'd by Won Park. And then these incredible leaf carvings from Hey, Lady Grey. Upon seeing these pretty leaves, pun-happy hubby said, I don't be-leave it.

+ loving you!

{love in mosaic by marie-ll}

Because you sweeten my life, this award really is for you, dear readers. All of you. Please accept this Happy 101 Award and play along by thanking the person who passed it onto you, writing about some of your loves and then passing it on to your fellow bloggers.

I'm going to list a few blogs here, too, aside from the ones listed above in the love for art part--for your weekend hopping fun.

SignePling

Acquainted With the Night

Life Among Mountains

Dolce Dreams 

Gracie Bella Butterfly

OneCraftyFox

The Art of Living Beautifully

Memory Bean Designs

The Diversion Project

Bluebird Notes

What do you love today?

a little bit of everything.

{view from dorotea : by me}

The sun is shining in Puerto Natales, and has been (mostly) for a few days. Yesterday I went out in only  a sweater. Cold when the wind picked up, but I warmed myself walking. Over the weekend we hiked in similar sunshine around Cerro Dorotea, about 10 minutes driving from Puerto Natales. If the weather was like this all the time (at least for one straight season), it would make living here so much more agreeable.

{lunar hiking + martian wall calligraphy : by serkan yalin}

But there are other beautiful things. (Because it's better not to focus on what might drive one nuts.) Like the kindness of so many friends. We have already received lots of baby clothes, the second big installment came yesterday over hot chocolate and sweet chat. Another friend even gave me one of her son's hand-knitted sweaters, despite my protestations (amid gratitude). She swore that he had lots of handmade clothes and more waiting for him in Australia, where she's from originally.

We have been getting our paperwork together for S's visa interview in Santiago. This round of papers was so much easier than round one! We should pretty much finish everything today. Then off to the capital to again for doc appointments, errands, this interview, some shopping and good food.

This has been a long, difficult winter for me (I won't lie), and I welcome the coming phases, wherever they take us. For now I'm enjoying the transition into spring. Waking up from that dark hibernation that was only sometimes restful. More and more friends are returning from their winter travels into summer. The shops, all closed up for the past several months, open their doors. Trekkers shoulder their backpacks, folding and refolding their maps and dogeared travel books, looking for a place to stay or drink coffee + beer. The influx of life comforts me.

Have you ever lived in a place that closes down for certain seasons? What would you do during your hibernation?

friday present: sweet vintage love nudges.

This week's dose of gratitude goes a little something like this. Thankful for...

streusel, 

{photo by elaine ashton}

First the word streusel throw me off a little. It sounds wet, like a drizzly goo. But it comes from the German verb streuen, meaning to scatter or sprinkle, (similar to English's strew). Contrary to its juicy name, struesel is more or less dry (with a healthy punch of sugar, butter and flour), and I think it's best with brown sugar. Real brown sugar--the kind you can "pack" down--is hard to come by here. But this week I found me some brown sugar, baby. So I can perfect my blueberry coffeecake with streusel topping, a recipe my dear friend Jen sent me a while back.

vintage clutches, 

{from YellowBirdd Vintage via From Skirts to Skillets}

And good luck! I won this giveaway from Lynzy at From Skirts to Skillets. A floral clutch with gold chain courtesy of YellowBirdd Vintage. I'm diggin' this floral affair dress too, though I won't be able to fit in anything like that for a while. Incidentally, Lynzy is having a closet sale right now. Get in on the action!

heart hangers,

{my love hanger preview : photo by serkan yalin}

Once upon a time Micaela from Dolce Vita posted about a love hanger art project that Kat at Fritzi Marie is hosting. A few nights later, I found myself on the floor collaging and stringing up pieces of my life. It's a simple, meditative project that, I think, helps us reunite with ourselves a little. For me, writing about my dangling vida took me a little deeper into the love hanger journey than its initial creation. Read more about Kat's inspiration and how you can enter your hanger here. (Note: Kat has extended the deadline for entering.)

a safe haven... 

{photo by melina souza}

For (sexy) trash. Yep. Garbage. Basura. It's a real problem here, compounded by several factors. 1a.) The city does not provide garbage collection bins. 1b.) All stores give out flimsy plastic bags in horrifying quantities. Almost everyone uses these leaky, holey bags as their trash receptacles come trash day. Some toss them out as-is on the curb; most try to hang them on fence posts or in trees. 2.) Street dogs are a real problem here. They're feral, they're hungry, garbage day is thanksgiving--twice a week. 3.) Patagonia is windy. Every place has a main character, and wind is ours. 100 km/h winds are summer's norm. End result: a bloody mess. Plastic bag flags more prevalent than the obligatory Chilean flag.

The trash situation here has always stressed me out, but not in our current place. Our tiny front patio area is gated, and comes complete with a raised metal basket to safely stow our trash. Whew.

+ baby belly. 

{circa 23 weeks}

Lots of kicks and nudges these days (sometimes, we can even see the squirmer through my clothes). Of the five sense, he can now hear and he's working on his sense of touch. When he pokes, I poke back. 

What are you thankful for right now?

friday present: writing a map of love.

Today, I'm feeling thankful for so many things, I might just be all over the map. 

I love maps.

Though I don't love opening them up on street corners, which is how I end up finding myself lost / so often wandering. Which is how I ended up lost at the end of the world and eventually into the arms of my ever loving husband. Then with a baby already the size of a large banana somersaulting in my belly. (OK, This maps was a digression I truly didn't expect when I sat down to write this post.)

I love writing. 

{typewriter by squidart}

Because of where it leads the writer: surprising journeys. A lucky reader experiences reading as a journey, if the author has indeed traveled during the writing. I planned to write about family and friends and packages in some tied-together, perhaps meaningful, way. But here I am writing (rather self-consciously) about maps in the act / about maps and the act of writing. How writing is a map / the wanderings of a map in creation. In process.

I love synchronicity. 

{yarn by apryl lowe}

Even the smallest in-tune moments make my heart hop. For some reason, Serkan and I consistently sniffle at the same time. I don't know if it's the dry air, but I almost never breathe clearly here (yes, it's much worse during the pregnancy). So what used to be the happy sighs of a deep breath have turned into intermittent deep sniffle-like inhales. Ours coordinate several times per day (even more noticeably during an Uruguyan roadtrip). 

Sometimes synchronicity happens over greater expanses of space and time. Namely, a girl called Jen. The story can go way back to high school days. But she started reading my blog recently through another one of our high school friends: Elena. Let's just say, quickly, that most of high school was a traumatic dance through a landscape of mourning for me, so I remember shockingly little from those years. Memory is a fickle yet endlessly fascinating experience (and non-experience), no? I had few friends during high school, but I am pretty much still in touch with that small circle of people today, my beautiful amiga Elena, for example. One day through the surreal powers of Facebook, Jen contacted me. We've been writing ever since, and I look forward to each of our correspondences. We can feel how much we share in common, even without talking about it to each other. Sparkling kismet.

So, back to synchronicity. I just received an amazing little package of goodies from Jen: complete with dried cherries (yum!), a perfect coffeecake recipe, a congrats card addressed to Serkan and I, and our first baby onesies! I cannot stop looking at them. I haven't put them away yet, and every once in a while Serkan walks by them, smiles, unfolds the top one, embroidered with handsome, and we both muse over how small it is. 

{jen, thank you for the beautifulness, i'm so happy we re-found each other!}

Jen also sent me a lovely hand-crocheted scarf along with a beautiful letter about what crochet means to her. How her grandma taught her to crochet, and that after many starts and many years, she finished her first project (This part echoes my crochet story exactly, but I have yet to finish a project.) That creating pieces for others is her way of sharing her grandma's gift. Apparently, she started crocheting me a scarf the same day I posted about my most recent foray into crochet. How cool is that? I'm so thankful for our friendship, such moments of synchronicity and warmth.

I love friends. 

One might be tempted to say: I love my friends. But the truth is I love friendship. And I enjoy witnessing other people's beautiful bonds just as much as I cherish my own. It can be like watching a couple in love. You may be a satellite around one side of that love, but you don't have to be in the middle of it. I love reading about other people's friendships, even people I only know virtually in blogland. Faiza's big-hearted adventures with her beloveds comes to mind, as does the true love my dear friend Claire has found with beautiful Micaela. 

I do love my friends, too, of course. Each friendship has a different history, a different length, a different way of discovering one another, and all ways are wonderful. I've received a few care packaged from my loving and beautiful friend Nicole over the years. Way back in the day, when I first stepped foot outside of the U.S. to study in England, she used to send me handmade post cards and letters. The most recent care package is this lighthearted approach to pregnancy.

{thank you so much, sweet nicole!}

We giggled our way through Knocked Up last night. And I'm going to get started in on this book today. So far, the only pregnancy book I've actually finished is Ina May's Guide to Childbirth. I've dabbled in a couple of others, but feel ready to (and like I should) start reading books with more of a focus on baby nursing and sleeping.

I love family.

{tulips by ronaldo f cabuhat}

That is my family and the idea of family. I love how my friends and family always send their love and wishes to the both of us (and now to the two and a half of us). They have never met Serkan, yet they include him in all correspondence. For someone who has surreptitiously sought approval all her life (and often climbed all the wrong mountains to find it), I must say I get the family warm fuzzies to feel so accepted. Unconditionally accepted, which I now (experientially) understand. 

The huge package in yesterday's mail love picture was an anniversary gift from my dad and Carol in Wisconsin. The box weighed 21 pounds, so I was ordered to let hubby do the lifting. And oh my goodness, there was just a little bit of about everything in the realm of made in the USA food in that box...

{thank you!!!}

Coffee to last us till we return to the States; dried mangos, blueberries and mixed berries; real maple syrup; Krusteaz buttermilk pancake mix, instant pudding mixes and loads of other staples. Let's just say we're now prepared should a natural disaster head our way. This morning we ate fluffy American-style pancakes with real maple syrup for breakfast. And since I waited way too long to eat lunch, I whipped up some quick chocolate pudding afterward, because I needed something sweet to stop the shakes. (Don't worry, I don't normally let that type of hunger happen, especially not in this preggo state.)

I love you. 

Need I say more? Still quite a few emails and blogs to catch up on, but happily catching up this weekend, I am. 

And sometimes I love sevens.

{7 by jack vade}

These Friday thankfulness posts are typically 5-item lists, but I'm brimming this week! 

What are you thankful for this September?

{unattributed photos : unknown : please let me know if they are yours}

some moments are like this.

{photo}

So, everything is wonderful. (um, what kind of beginning is that? a bit of foreshadowing, maybe?) My trip to the embassy on Monday went off without a hitch! The woman who looked over all my paperwork was super helpful and practically welcomed us (back) into the country! In saying our farewells, she said: See you in two months! All very good. It's warm here (around 20 C during the day), Serkan and I are laughing like newlyweds, eating good food, enjoying our time away from snowy Patagonia.

And yet...

There's this little ball of farawayness that's been tugging at me. I'm sure it doesn't help that I've been sleeping poorly for several days in a row. I'm not sure what it is. I have been writing back and forth with new friends and old. But I guess I long for some more intimate companionship. Sitting one-on-one chatting with a girlfriend. Or walking and talking. Or with a group of girls gigging at game night. I'm afraid after living here for so long, I've forgotten how to even talk on the phone. This is my current form of bleh... And I'm not sure where it's coming from. 

 

{photo}

Is it pregnancy hormones? Speaking of this, I had my first run-in with the question: Are you pregnant? today. I'm about 4.5 months along. While my belly is obvious to me and Serkan, I find it an incredibly risky question for the suit in the coffee shop to ask me. I said sí. But I now think I should have said no, you know, to see him squirm a little. How does one recover from that faux pas? After that he wanted to chat. And... well, this wasn't the companionship I've been longing the last couple of days. A male friend of mine suggested I get my hands on a T-shirt that says: Does the baby make me look fat?

{photo}

 So, now Serkan is coming to meet me, and we are going to go for a little couples shop therapy. Maybe a new bag and some stationery.

the cupcake challenge: come and play!

The back story: Diana of One Crafty Fox, in a glittering streak of inspiration, decided to host a Cupcake Challenge. And now the cupcake, endearingly known as Cuppie, is traveling the world for one year, moving from blogger to blogger and eventually finding her way back home to Eastern Canada with loads of stories to tell. 

{cuppie in all her glory}

Inspired Design's Debbie first won the challenge, sending Cuppie to Massachusetts. Then Carrie from This Free Bird showed Cuppie a gay ol' time in SoCal. Then I won the challenge and Cuppie flew all the way to the southern tip of South America at the end of the world, where I've spent the past week warming her up to a Patagonian winter. 

I thought it might take Cuppie a while to acclimatize, but lo and behold she befriended a condor couple on the way down, and was able to hitch a ride.

 {good thing they cuppie's not made out of meat!}

{she carried her tiny condor souvenir everywhere}

Cuppie don't mess around, flying in the open air, we knew she was instantly acclimatized. So we snuck her across the border to Argentina to do a little skiing. She got a kick out of the fact that Argentina still claims the Malvinas, er, Falkland Islands. That night her spunky pinkness started researching other land disputes nearby and found that both Chile and Argentina claim the same sizable slice of Antarctica's pie.

{¡viva argentina!}

{after surfing with carrie in california, cuppie took to the slopes, pro-style}

Cuppie was quite the misfit! While she was growing her ski legs, she decided to jump the border back into Chile, just to test fate. Then she started moving the wooden post that marks the border to gain Argentina a little more ground. Guess she was still a little hung up on the Malvinas. (Jeez, Cuppie, thanks a lot.)

{can you spot the little misfit hiding in the brush?}

On the way down the slope, Cuppie got sidetracked by some bright yellow pan de indio, also known as Darwin's fungus. She started chowing down... 

{oh cuppie, what ever will we do with you?}

Cuppie, though sweet enough, sure indulges a sweet tooth. She suggested we bake a cheesecake one night. Little did she know it requires much patience. I had her chanting no lo voy a comer for hours. Yet every time I turned my back, there she was, back slobbering on the cooling cake. 

 {When it came time to dig in, she ended up eating nearly half of my slice!}

We decided Cuppie needed a little exercise, so we took her to see Torres del Paine National Park. The reason why this place is so hoppin' during the summer months of December-February. Cuppie scored in the weather department, but was a hard sell for actually hiking. She preferred to float around like a princess on a makeshift bark raft instead. 

{princess cuppie basking in laguna azul with a sweet view of the towers}

Eventually we bribed her with our camera, so she could take some touristic photos, you know, to write home with. Here are a few of her favorite shots. 

 {cuppie, the lamb whisperer: she chatted with these cuties for ages!}

 {and the guanaco whisperer: how many cupcakes can say they've ridden a "patagonian camel"?} 

 {no bark rafts to float around on here, but she still enjoyed the view of los cuernos}

On the way back into town, Cuppie really decided to pick it up a notch. Suddenly she busted out in a full-on sprint to hop the fence into live minefields! (Yes, exploding mines are still here from when Chile and Argentina nearly went to war in 1978. Luckily Papa John Paul II talked them out of it. Locals tell tales of cows blowing up every once in a while, but that's about the extent of it. Um, OK.)

{peligrosa chic}

Luckily, we stopped her in time. Whew. Apparently she just wanted her photo taken next to the Minas sign. I don't know where she learns this stuff. Here, minas, aside from meaning mines, means something akin to "bombshell" in English, as in: Check out that sexy bombshell. 

Yes, Cuppie, eres una tremenda mina. 

Now it's your turn to show Cuppie a good time!
 

Here's how the challenge works...

Leave a comment regarding the

photo below. Cuppie has proven to be quite the diva... 

What do you think she said to the girl in the photo below 
to result in that look on her face? 

The most creative comment wins! 

Cuppie will be mailed to your home 

with directions and you will be 

the next to host The Cupcake Challenge

on your blog!

Now, let the comments roll! I can't wait to hear your ideas! The Winner will be announced on Wednesday, August 18, 2010.  Be sure to leave your email address or blog URL in the comment, so I can contact you.  

Have fun!