patagonia in time lapse.

Guys, this is where we used to live. Granted, it's only the pretty side.  But it's all pretty in the end anyway. Sometimes I feel like I'm lost in a time lapse.

Have you ever been to Patagonia?

adding a little space to my step.

I feel thankful for.

love songs :: Right before my husband left the house to play soccer, he turned on Pandora and found an alternative indie love songs to play for me. You know, so we miss him more. Rowan's theme song for cruising around the coffee table and chewing the foamy corner safety edges is Friday I'm in Love.

autumn :: It's gray and moody outside. We went for a run along the beach trail, and the sea is so calm that the kite and wind surfing shack was closed. Even though the shoreline along Alameda isn't what you imagine when you imagine the beach, it still feels great to live so close to the ocean again.

{ultima esperanza fjord, puerto natales :: by serkan yalin}

past :: The only time I've lived within walking distance to the water was in Puerto Natales. Also not the picture you conjure when you think about going to the beach. But it's damn beautiful. Even in subzero temps. It's not that cold here, but last night I dreamed about the hooded puffy jacket I sold before we left Patagonia. I must have kicked off the covers and caught a chill.

forward :: This morning's run was my 10th comeback run (meaning 10 starts and 0 follow through) since I was pregnant. Gettin' there. Scenery and space are a big deal. 

present :: Rowan is asleep. I'm trying to spread out a little and take deep breaths. I am an open cocoon. 

Wishing you a weekend fully of scenery and space!

and so we adapt.

Dear Rowan,

Lately we look at this every day.

Puerto Natales, Chile, where you were almost born.

I like to see this 10x20 print unscrolled in the kitchen, waiting to be framed. Of course it looks cold and romantic, quiet, a little bit sleepy.

There's this emotive sky at dusk when the streetlights light up dimly. And you really feel like you're at the end of the world. See me? Wearing my favorite San Francisco boots, jeans, a patchwork skirt, a couple layers of shirt beneath a puffy jacket, scarf, hat. Walking fast cuz it's cold and confident cuz I don't belong there, feeling like I can do anything because I am there.

Even though it seems pretty dark, looking at that picture makes me want to go back. Life is visually lighter here in the Indian summer of California, but a bit cluttered and clumsy too. I continue to struggle with whether we belong here. (Apparently, I still have some reckoning to do with this matter of belonging.)

For the moment I'm happy to remember that exhilarating feeling of living at the bottom of the world.
And to share it with you, whether we're looking at the photo or in the mirror every morning together. All the mirrors in the house are covered with your slobbery handprints. Yep, I'm a mom. I still turn the idea over in my hand, smooth as a river stone by now. I'm a home, and I'll be your home for a while yet. Wherever we are, that's where we belong.

I promise to do my best to help you feel like you belong, wherever you are. But don't ever move that far away from me. I might just follow you!

depending on the inversion.

Happy summer or winter to you, depending on the inversion. Summer hit us whole-heartedly yesterday, and our house smoldered like an oven. We don't have A/C, and up until yesterday, I didn't think we would need it. Today is back to cool 70s, so I guess we really don't need it. But after wearing shorts for a day or two, I'm wondering... when will I feel comfortable in my skin again?

{paso john gardner :: torres del paine}

Choosing summer clothes feels near impossible. For all intents and purposes, I've lost my pregnancy weight. There'd only be another 6-7 pounds to go, and this isn't the heaviest I've been in my non-pregnant life. Right now I need shirts with easy access for nursing Rowan. And preferably something that makes my soft belly somehow less wobbly. Nothing fits well. I know, I'm being shallow. (But while I'm at it, I have another confession: I don't like my lumpy scar--even though my sweet baby came out of it. Somehow it still feels numb or occasionally hurts dully, oddly.) Yeah, people who know me would say I am crazy.

So what? My clothes don't fit, or they're not right for the occasion. But clothes are just the surface. It's not only my wardrobe. Maybe I'm having culture shock. I recently moved back to the States, and we also moved to the oddest plot of city we could. After living here a couple of months I have to say it's not my cup of tea or coffee. I miss walking in pretty places. Honestly, give me a nice trail, and I'm a fairly happy camper. I wish we'd had the time and foresight to think of this back when we were moving. Our lease is up in September, so I guess that means an imminent something. 

{my trails don't even need to be well defined :: paso oggioni :: tdp}

I am finally starting to feel used to being a mom, and yet... I still wonder how others get used to this new role. Do they swim up into it at ease? How do you all manage to find balance in whatever you do? I have never been this inactive in my life. And I can't blame it on being a mom. There is time for me to start running again, to do yoga. Yet I don't.

{before I started working, I did manage to squeeze in
a couple of hikes with Rowan in the carrier :: coyote hills, fremont}

This keeps coming back to issues of physical health. It's not really that at all. Well, maybe a little. I think it's about balance and groping to get a grip on it again. In fact, after I started working, I struggle to even find time to blog, among other things. I'm not about to fall off the tightrope yet. But I don't think my pocketful of grace is quite ready for prime time yet either.

I would love to hear how you find balance in your life. 

This isn't only about motherhood, though I'm tagging it so... 

Cuz I'm also tagging the phantoms in my life, like running + yoga. 

a letter to husband.

After this little conversation between S + me, I remembered that I had written him a blog letter. I intended to post said letter after my dear soon to be mom post a while back. We didn't have internet back then though, and let's just say there was a lot going on. 

So here's a letter for you, S, back when we were still two, before we were three...

Dear Soon to Be Dad,

Three or four months pregnant is ages ago. We'd just bought a car in Patagonia and took it car camping to Laguna Azul right outside Torres del Paine. A bitter cold yet winter windless day with a glass clear lake reflecting the Towers and Paine Massif. You snapped my first belly shots there, the ones we've laughed about the past couple months, because it really didn’t count as a belly. 

{laguna azul, torres del paine :: patagonia, chile :: 17 weeks pregnant}

We built a fire to cook our food and warm ourselves. We sat huddled around it and each other. My shoes nearly melted in the flame. The Cruz del Sur, an upside-down Orion and impossible worlds of light reflected in our eyes. A bifocal of stars and fire; una estrella fugaz. When the fire died down, we snuggled in the tent and watched a movie on your computer. Such backpacker decadence.

A handful of months later we took our last road trip to Estancia Lazo on another glowing day. We were completely alone apart from a corral of horses. Me in my loosest hiking pants and a bellaband to hold up those unbuttoned trousers. I snapped photos of you cowboying it up on the gas canister toro for turistas. We made what you called baby's (third or fourth?) baby summit. We picnicked in the strong sun--warm enough to kick off our shoes and enjoy some naked feet time.

Winter wasn't easy. The first trimester emotions and end of the world solitude. That cold, dark house. Then the lightening of the second trimester hit and we moved to a better, insulated-at-least-for-Patagonia house. I wouldn’t change any of it.

Being able to spend all that time together would have driven most people crazy. Maybe it did drive us a little mad too. But then I think of how soon our life will quicken and how we'll probably miss our quiet time. I'm thankful for every minute we've spent together, for your come-to-the-rescue pep talks, how you remind me to breathe. That you're my best friend and birth partner, soon to be dad of our soon to be born baby.

If I have to live through a whole year of winters, thank goodness I get to live them with you. We've reached 40 weeks of pregnancy together. We'll hold those little feet that have been kicking us soon. To say that you will be an amazing father is just words. We'll fall in love again as a threesome. Reflected in this person that we've created together.

We made a person: Really, how crazy is that?

Love,

Soon to be mom

{and, yeah, you are an excellent papa}

date in the afternoon.

Our big plan on Monday was to fix our spare tire and head to Argentina, a mini three-day road trip to be somewhere different, eat good food, bid farewell. Our last hoorah here, so to speak. S is leaving on his last guiding trip in a couple days. When he returns, we'll only have four days to get everything in order for leaving, say our human good-byes to friends here.

{road trip postponed : via}

But on Sunday, I received a call from a friend that somebody wanted to buy our car. We were already pretty much giving up on selling it before we leave. Though this should have been happy news, I really wanted to go on that trip. Yesterday was dedicated to running around with the gringo who wants our car, while he figured out how he could get the money out of his accounts to make the purchase. The morning was warm and windless enough to sunbathe, though we were fully clothed. A friend let S & I into his still-closed cafe, where I could use the bathroom (my new hobby) and we could enjoy the sun in the garden out back, while we waited for the gringo to manage his banking.

In the end, it was a no go, and too late for us to leave. I'll spare you all the silly details. If you've ever done any long-term traveling, you know how difficult it can be to actually get access to your funds when you most need 'em. How often travelers get stuck, cards stolen, new cards sent, the limbo of overseas banking. It's never pretty. Add Chilean bureaucracy and the added difficulties of this remote region to the mix, and you get a days-long process. Which S is working on with the prospective buyer as I write this. We decided I didn't need to go on another 5-hour journey, running around the town this morning.

Since we still had the car yesterday afternoon, I really wanted to do something with it. (You know, something more constructive than whining about how we should be in Calafate, enjoying our road trip together.) Go somewhere we won't be able to without wheels. So we went on an afternoon date to the far end of the sound. To a tiny peninsula that caught the rev of wind. We shot my 30 week belly pics, and sat on dry slate protected from the wind by the sea. We watched a patch of sunlight ray over our perfect view of Torres del Paine. A white gull pair fought with a dark petrel over fishing territory. Terns squawked or screamed. With impeccable timing the seabirds ceased, so we could better listen to the garbage trucks barreling down the dirt road.

{ice cream condolences : photo by josh liba}

Back in Natales we were entered an eerie windlessness again, so we splurged on ice cream cones. There's something so touristy wonderful about walking around town licking ice cream. We sat on a bench beneath a random ventana cultural sign in one of the town's random plazuelas, watching the old ladies in the artesenia shops watch us.

Do you ever walk like a tourist at home?

friday present: randoms.

It's been a couple weeks, since I've written one of these posts. Busy on the home front of moving (obtaining immigration visa, deciding to move + then acting on that whirlwind decision), though that should just be a different post altogether. So let's organize the thoughts, scattered leaves: This week I'm grateful for...

sockets. 
So many sockets. Most houses here have one single-plug socket per room. (At its heart, Puerto Natales is still a poor fishing village, riding the wave of Torres del Paine tourism and trying to learn how to grow.) Most houses are boxes built from scrap wood and tin; the guts of the house an afterthought. The electrical wires run on the outside of the walls, making for eye level sockets--one per room, if you're lucky. (You pay the "electrician" per outlet, and why pay more?) Then comes the extender plug (usually a three-sided danger toy), maybe another extender, then all the appliances plugged in, Frankenstein fashion. Yeah, you can call it a fire hazard. 

Not so where we live now. In a house with forethought: inset ceiling lights, closets, and more sockets than I've ever seen in all of South America. We have, for instance, five sockets in the living room. Three of which have three outlets each. We're only here another three weeks or so, but one of my fondest memories of this place will be the fact that I could plug my computer in anywhere--without unplugging something else, getting tangled up or tripping. 

{the moving night by luis argerich}

emptying.
Like I said, we won't be here much longer. We leave Puerto Natales on November 29. We're selling everything, so I have a good reason to make spreadsheets. I can sort by whichever column I like and filter the information as I please: Who bought what, who do I owe items to, who owes us pesos? It's overly organized, and I love it! Every day this week, someone has stopped by to take something away. It feels good to physically see less to-do items in our space. 

beach glass.
Even though I'm wringing out our home, I still want it to feel homey, livable. Right now I'm looking at a row of beach-combed glass jars. The amber one holds a duck's plume. I'll let the jars catch light on the windowsill another week or so before rolling them in newspaper and jeans. It's decided; they're coming with us to California's cold Pacific. 

{via happy mundane}

deep sleeping. 
Aside from the fact that last night I got to sleep with my guru again after six days, I'm happy that I'm still able to sleep deeply. Of course I wake up a million times in the beginning of the night to pee. Or maybe baby gets all wiggly right when I'm snuggling in and it takes me a bit to fall asleep. But for the most part when I'm there, I'm there. (I know this luxury will slacken soon, so I'll just enjoy it while it lasts!) 

Last night S had his arm draped over my belly, and baby kept swatting at his hand. Baby does this; when he feels pressure, he starts to nudge around in that area. I telepathically told baby to hit harder, but sleeping S still didn't feel a thing. This morning, on the other hand, while S was in full-on play mode with our kicking baby, I didn't even wake up. 

breakfast in bed. 

{via}

S is the morning bird, I'm the night owl and baby still gets to be both. Someday they'll share the early morning hours together preparing me great late breakfasts in bed. We'll eat feasts of yogurt and honey, fruit and Turkish toast in bed together, before going for a hike on a sunny, breezy afternoon.

What are you thankful for right now?

encyclopedic post : history meets mail.

{dancer with a bouquet of flowers : edgar degas}

About two years ago, I moved into a room of a hostel. Aside from sharing the kitchen and bathroom with backpackers and all the rampant earwigs brought by autumn, I didn't mind living there. It was a free place for me to be. (Plus I met my husband shortly afterward and spent most nights at his house.) When I moved in, though, during that dead dark of cold winter, the room was still being used as a storage closet. The hostel itself wasn't open yet.

What I remember most about moving junk loads into the room across the hall are the antique encyclopedias, burnt black at the edges and disintegrating. I flipped through their pages, their amazing pictures. Visions of framed word art and collage danced in my head. Alas, the owner of these books--whose previous house burnt down as the paper houses with shoddy electrical work are wont to do here--planned to restore the books. They belonged to her deceased father, who was a doctor on Tierra del Fuego. I handled her heavy heirlooms with care, and didn't nab any of the cool pictures I oh so wanted. I wrote about this ages ago here.

Fast forward... > hostel opens + the books are moved out to the weather, supine to Patagonia's beatings no joke > come end of summer, earwigs hatch; they invade everything, can't lift a sponge or touch a towel without shaking one or five out > the cleaning woman battles them every morning, crushes them underfoot, sweeps out their carcasses, cleans the now overgrown backyard + starts throwing away earwig-infested encyclopedias > I save as many as I can carry and stow them in multiple bags so the tijeretas don't crawl into bed with me at night. They really do that!

{another degas interlude (after the bath, woman drying her nape);
why? because the next package someone receives from me is from the degas page}

Now I use the pages to wrap presents. And every time I send a piece of mail wrapped in encyclopedia, I lament not mentioning (on the card already snug inside the package) where the paper came from. I imagine someone finding the book destruction offensive. Now I realize, the recipient might be scared to touch said package with all my tijereta rantings, but they're clean I promise!

And yet... there's some artful book maiming out there. Take Brian Dettmer's book sculptures for instance. Only a true logophile would create this masterpiece from Webster's Dictionary...

{i say it's synchronicity: webster two point oh}

Not that my ripping out pages and taping them to boxes is artful, but I do like doing it. And playing with the serendipity of the pages as they open themselves up to be torn. 

{anticipate the comfort : the new modern medical counselor : by brian dettmer}

OK, there's a lot of innuendo here, I hadn't anticipated. Not sure if you're catching it; the subconscious is a marvelous poetic thing. I think it's better to just end with some questions...

How do you feel about writing in your books? Or altering them in some way?

get calmer.

Don't get mad or grumpy or frazzled or fed up. Get calm.

S said this to me after I might have said something about him being my guru. I know that may sound funny, but he is the most present, patient and overall calm person I know. The fact that he sometimes has to deal with the flare-ups of this raging fireball phases him little. (Wish I could claim that those flare-ups never actually happen, but what can I say?: I'm a work in progress.)

{because everybody needs to be reminded to breathe sometimes}

The tourist season has started here, finally. It seems to start later and later every year. Not ideal if you work seasonally. But it also means that right now S is on one of his longer trips. This always requires adjustment, a wee transition to being suddenly sola. And after spending all winter almost inseparably together, it's easy to see how much I rely on him. It's bigger things, like sleeping with our baby's soft stuffed monkey instead of my husband. And littler things, like how S always asks if I have water. Or medium-sized things, like suddenly I can't remember how to put air in the tires.

Meanwhile, every day something else moves from the house. I clean out another cupboard. Set aside things to giveaway, find more items to put on the for-sale list. I shift the house around to keep it homey. A couple nights ago I created sound sleeping energy in our new bedroom. We sold our bed yesterday; and it does feel good to find less to get rid every day. While Serkan was still here, I imagined it would be impossible to move from our big bed to the little kid's bed that came with our mostly furnished house. That the room had been used too long for exercise and closet space. But it feels really good in there. It has the comfortable, safe feeling of a nook, because the bed space is pretty nook-like. It's where we slept the first month we moved into this house and where we (S+me or monkey+me) will sleep during this last month too.

In other festivities, some friends painted my belly for Halloween. While Halloween isn't near as festive as it is in California, I still like to try to dress up. We weren't even sure what we would do till the last minute. But it was fun getting ready anyway. I've always had a knack for convincing boys to wear skirts. Halloween night was no exception...

{impromptu dance party}

Eventually I was something akin to mama planet...

{circa 28 weeks}

We made Laura a mime and David was Heather aka me...

{happiness}

David's costume is really only funny if you live in this tiny town and see people wearing the same things all the time (like this puffy jacket + wool hat, sunglasses; the wraparound skirt on top of jeans works like a little extra blanket against the cold). Apparently this genius costume even fooled some people--immediately followed by their utter unnerving.

{scary halloween version of the movie: heathers}

 David's ultra smiley pose every time the camera shot in his direction completed the look.

signs of spring.

Yesterday the Navimag (backpacker-style "cruise" and cargo ship that sails 3 days through Patagonian fjords and connects Puerto Natales with Puerto Montt in the north) arrived with some travelers and lots of food cargo. Suddenly way-too-expensive blueberries, California red grapes, arugula and boxes of fruit + veggie delicacies crowded the aisles of our local market. It's only in the last year or so (and then, only during the impending summer months) some locals have even seen an blueberry. The clerk asked us what they were called: uvas?; no, they are arándanos.

This morning S halved grapes into our cereal bowls. We went for a walk along the coast, covered in litter (as it always is) and in the yellow beginnings of dandelions. In town, red and happy yellow tulips abound and show their black inner bellies. Occasional snapdragons sidle up to the fronts of houses, and leaves of lupine sprout from the brown ground. There are even daffodils, which I've never seen before here. Daffodils. These may be my favorite flower, and, yes, they are even more endearing to me for Wordsworth and having visited Tinturn Abbey way back in the olden golden days of a college semester abroad.

For everybody cruising into spring, I hope it's filled with flowering greens. If you're enjoying the fall foliage or already feeling an early frost, I send you images of daffodils--you know, for your mind's pretty eye.

{daffodils by harold.lloyd}

And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils. 

--Wordsworth

If you haven't already, enter my giveaway here!

{grape photo : unknown : please let me know if it's yours}

getting ready to move.

{untitled by picassoswoman}

We had our first taste of boredom yesterday. Even though I was pretty busy running about, every time I returned to our house, an uneasy wave of boring bore into me. This is coming from someone, who generally scolds people for saying they're bored. I mean, there are SO many things to do! I'm in the middle of about three "projects" now, not to mention the mail I mean to post, books to read, desserts to bake. But yesterday kissed us with a spell of... what was it exactly?... a combination of not wanting to do anything, restlessness, boredom. Are we that ready to leave?

As I write this, S is looking up what our internet speed will be in California. Currently we pay more than $80/month for a snaily 0.4 Mb, which cuts out intermittently (aka regularly). We just got back from our typically sad market of wilted greens and rotting fruits--for which we also pay too much. So S also searches how much groceries cost at Trader Joe's. It's a little crazy how much we love grocery shopping together. TJ's, among other markets, is me being a happy kid in a candy shop.

I thought I would be more nostalgic thinking of our last six weeks here. And I do feel so. When I talk to certain people, I know I will miss parts of being here. Some people. The mountains. My yoga teacher. The lazy relaxed lifestyle. (You can't live here if you want to get something done, fast--it'd drive you batty!) Living off the grid in our own little way + checking out of the bigger world... (I'm not political here, sometimes I barely know what's even happening in the world out there. And--here--I don't feel the slightest tinge of guilt about having checked out so thoroughly. I guess the things that concern me most these days have to do with third world recycling aka lack thereof and decrepit street dogs.)

{wondering what i was in for in 2007}

But I won't miss the horrid customer service, the hurricane winds + and inhospitable weather, the garbage the filth, the barking street dogs + poor diseased puppies (enough to make the hardest-hearted sniffle--so many of my foreign friends have taken in crazy numbers of strays), the propineros in the market who assault you with their plastic bags despite your protestations (and then you give them coins for this), the food and lack of food choices. I find myself saying way too many times a day: in California this... or in the States that... And yes, all this does make me shake my head at myself!

Don't get me wrong, there have been so many amazing moments and life changes that occurred here, living "at the end of the world." (Most notably we found each other. A beginning--not so much the end.)

{our happy beginning : torres del paine}

I'm sure our last days here will compel me to dive in and write about some of the heart's serpentine journey. For now, knowing that we are almost finished enduring everything we've chose to endure by living here... whew, it's incredibly freeing!

Do you have an ambiguous relationship with where you live?

who doesn't like flowers?

Here's a flower, yet unplucked, freshly for you.

{pinkness by wallace santiago}

May your days filled with flowers or pretty autumn leaves, shots of sunshine or the calm of snow (when your warm inside marveling at its silence).

Funny aside about our fresh cut flower situation: They're difficult to find here. Our local market has a little section for flowers in long slender buckets. And they fill them with crispy, fake flowers--the color of urine in various stages of dehydration. Sorry, that may be too much information. They are in the fresh fruit + veg section, right next to the stoney tomatoes, and they always make me laugh or at least crack a smile or let out a little groan.

What do you think about (fake) flowers?

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: from patriotism to pajamas.

Because Saturday is the new Friday (or so it seems to be for me). These are just a few of the things I'm feeling grateful for this week.

not getting caught with my flag down.

{photo by mervyn hector}

Today is Chilean Independence Day. We've been feeling the pressure building up for the last couple weeks or so, and today's the grand finale. I think joy compounds today, with a big spring welcome. The days are getting slightly longer, the weather slightly less cold (some might say warm, but not me). The other day we marveled at how many houses proudly wave their Chilean flag. We thought about how this would compare to the States or Turkey. Seriously, just about every homefront boasts a flag. The very next day I discovered that donning your flag is obligatory here. A law. Which makes all that patriotism power wane quite a bit, the flag all the more flaccid for it. But we don't have one, and nobody's come knocking on our door demanding why. Whew!

getting in touch with my inti zen. 

{photo}

I'm still obsessed with this tea. I snuck back into the market on Friday to buy more Inca Rose tea, but they were all out already. So I bought a variety pack containing two of my new favorite beauties. I couldn't have gotten away with this purchase had I gone to the market with hubby, since we have a drawer overflowing with tea at home already.

days + dreaming. 

{photo by anastasia volkova}

I loved reading all of your daydreams so much, I might want to take a daydream journey with you every week. You're all so funny and beautiful! Disclaimer: I do try to live in the present. So daydreaming about something that's not necessarily in our present moment may sound a little counterproductive. But can't we shine the light of our awareness onto our daydream routines too? I think it's pretty rejuvenating.

pajama parties. 

{photo}

Even if they are virtual... Diana at OneCraftyFox invited us all to a slumber party this weekend! How fun is that! I'm bringing lots of nail polish, pedicure supplies, Tarot cards, my new tea obsession + hot chocolate (with Irish Cream for my non-pregger friends) to go with her yummy chocolate chip cookies. Oh, and the wonderful Sunday brunch to be had! Fruit salad and champagne, anyone? Hope to see you there!

helping each other out. 

{photo by flabnbone}

Remember Thursday's sweet little deer? Well, Lyddie, the dear from Chic on the Cheap knew who took the photo and shared the info. I work hard to find the source of all images, but it can be a feat. And my über slow internet connection certainly doesn't help matters. So, yes, I treasure lovely info sharing moments like these. Thank you!

What are you thankful for today?

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!