Happy Monday… afternoon. Another crazy weekend and Monday scramble, but at least I’m getting this post up on Monday and not on Tuesday. Progress, folx.
It’s been a scramble in many ways and over many days, not just today – so I’ve got three books up here but only one finished: Three Lives to Live, a middle-grade time slip story that I loved as a child and just read aloud to Peanut last week. (It mostly held up, I’m glad to report – especially because Peanut immediately stole my copy so she could start re-reading it.) Other than that, reading time was sparse last week and over the weekend. I did get through some of The Small House at Allington, but not very far. More this week, I hope.
Over the weekend, reading time was even more scarce, but for the best reason – Peanut and I were out of town on a girls’ trip to my college reunion at Cornell University. In order to avoid lugging a 700+ page hardcover tome that I wasn’t expecting to read much at all, and because it’s always fun to read in situ, I brought along a different book for the weekend – The Widening Stain, a literary mystery classic set at a fictionalized version of Cornell. (The author was the official historian of Cornell for decades, and the “Wilmerding Library,” where the first murder of the book takes place, is clearly the A.D. White Library at Cornell.) I toted the book along on our traipsing about campus, because Peanut wanted to take reading breaks throughout the day (she had her own book that I was also carrying in my tote bag) and I even got to spend an hour reading the book in the White Library. Too fun!
This week – I’m hoping to finish up The Widening Stain over the next few days, and then turn back to The Small House at Allington. I doubt I’ll finish both in just a week, especially given how busy I’ve been and how long the Trollope is, but onward.
It was a beautiful weekend at Cornell! Reunion is a can’t miss event for me – I love diving back into campus life and revisiting all of my old favorite spaces, and it was such a joy to reconnect with old friends. I keep in touch with many of my college friends on Facebook, but it’s not the same as chatting in person. It was a heart-filling weekend of hugs and laughter – the best.
After our morning cruise through the Lemaire Channel, everyone on the ship was anxious to get our muck boots onto the ice. I think the expedition crew was, too, because they wasted no time at all in getting our anchor dropped and the zodiacs in the water at Port Charcot.
I was beyond giddy at the prospect of seeing my first penguin colony!
The island we were exploring was home to a good-sized colony of gentoo penguins. I learned a few things right away: first, you can smell a penguin colony before you see it. It’s an unmistakable odor (the word aroma is really too pleasant). Good thing they’re so darn cute!
Second, I learned that penguins are obsessive remodelers. The nest is never finished!
For instance, I watched this guy (or gal – you can’t tell) going back and forth with rocks to add to the nest, over and over and over and… over.
Ready for my close-up!
Penguins often establish their routes from the colony to the beach and back and continue to travel the same exact paths, wearing deep divots known as “penguin highways” into the ice. There weren’t really any of these highways on our first island visited, although we’d see some examples at future landings. Here, the penguins just waddled around a long expanse of snow, ice and slush.
If you’re wondering about the colors – no, it’s not dirty snow, and my camera wasn’t malfunctioning. The green and red colors in the ice are from snow algae. Early in the season, there’s almost none to be spotted, but by February – late summer, when we visited – the nutrients provided by penguin droppings over several months of trekking back and forth to the colonies, and the slightly warmer temperatures, result in weirdly colorful snow. Who knew?!
It’s even in the layers of ice cliffs!
Penguins weren’t the only critters at Port Charcot! We stopped and watched these Antarctic fur seals for awhile. They couldn’t have cared less about our presence.
Well – maybe this one did. He seemed to view us – and our cameras – as a good opportunity for striking a pose. Show-off.
Meanwhile, out in the harbor – another humpback! This whale attracted a big group of fans on shore, cameras and mittens pointed excitedly as it fluked and dove.
But back to the penguins, who were the undisputed stars of the landing. I found another small group of penguins nesting on their own rocky outcropping, a little ways from the main colony. And these had – chicks!
I wasn’t expecting to see baby penguins – they’re usually spotted in December and January; February, when we traveled, is whale season, not penguin chick season. But the ornithologist on board our ship explained that this had been a strange nesting season: instead of all of the penguin eggs hatching within two or three days of each other, as is common, eggs were hatching at all different times for months. The result was that we got to see young penguins of all ages – from very new babies to roly-poly juveniles. Fun for us, but alarming for the penguins: the really young chicks we were seeing would probably not be molted in time to join their parents in the water at the end of the season, and would be abandoned and die before reaching adulthood. (Nature is brutal, fam.) That was a sobering thought – but they were still adorable. I was in love with the chick above (and really hope it’s old enough to make it through the Antarctic winter!). I stood for probably twenty minutes snapping picture after picture of this cuteness. SO FLUFFY.
As I clicked away, I started to see the adults exhibiting some different behavior: first one, then two penguins turned their beaks to the air and started honking loudly. Soon all of the adults were doing it. Weird, I thought – and then I saw.
A skua! Antarctic skua gulls will predate penguin eggs and chicks. This one clearly had its eye on one of the several fluffy grey balls of feathers in the rocky nests.
Oh no, you don’t! I watched with my heart in my throat as the skua got lower and lower – and closer and closer to those darling fluffy babies. Way too close for comfort.
Luckily for the penguins (and for me; I didn’t really want to see a predation event) a gust of wind came up just at the right time and blew the skua sideways and away from the nests.
What a relief!
It felt like no time had passed at all before the expedition guides were calling to us to make our way back to the zodiacs.
International law prohibits Antarctic tour operators from landing more than 100 people on the continent at once. That’s why you generally don’t see 3,000-guest behemoth cruises in Antarctica (although they’re starting to get more common, unfortunately): no one would get any meaningful amount of time on shore. Reputable Antarctic tour companies generally don’t run ships with more than 200 guests on board; our ship had the capacity for 188 guests but was a little under-sold this time, with just over 160 of us. Even so, we had to divide into two groups for shore landings: one group would land immediately and explore while the other group went “zodiac cruising” and then the groups would switch. Zodiac cruising is fun and fascinating in itself, so it’s definitely not the short end of the stick. Although we were sorry to leave the penguins and the seals behind, we were excited about our first zodiac cruise.
Our guide, Kim, promised some really spectacular icebergs – and she delivered.
Gorgeous! And those colors – incredible! I couldn’t get enough of the spectacular ice formations and infinite shades of blue.
However, the combination of wind and waves on this particular day meant that it was a bit of a wild ride – and it turned out I was sitting in “the wet seat.” At the bow of the zodiac, on the starboard side, is apparently where all of the water hits – and I mean all of the water. I spent the entire hour squinting at the icebergs while what felt like buckets of freezing water slammed me in the face over and over. (Since I like to look at the bright side, I noted two important things: one, my waterproof pants were definitely waterproof; and two, I was ready for the polar plunge, since it felt like I’d already done one!)
Don’t mind the buckets of ice cold water – have some more tropical blue icebergs!
What an awesome day! Getting feet on Antarctica and finally seeing penguins was the culmination of years of dreaming. And this was just the beginning – there was so much adventure to come…
Next week: we cross the Antarctic Circle and are visited by a gang of humpback whales!
Reading is my oldest and favorite hobby. I literally can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love to curl up with a good book. Here are my reads for May, 2023.
Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors (The Rajes #1), by Sonali Dev – I’m always on the lookout for a good Jane Austen adaptation and this was a fun one – gender-swapped. Trisha Raje is a brilliant surgeon but all her brains can’t help her relate to her wealthy family; DJ Caine is an up-and-coming chef hired to cater Trisha’s brother’s political fundraiser. When DJ and Trisha get off on the wrong foot, misunderstandings abound… and so does the romantic tension. Not great literature, but a fun read.
A Countryman’s Spring Notebook, by Adrian Bell – Ever since Slightly Foxed published its collection of Bell’s winter nature columns and hinted at plans for a series, I’ve been hoping for this book! It was every bit as good as its predecessor and a total joy from the first page to the last.
Quidditch Through the Ages, by J.K. Rowling a.k.a. Kennilworthy Whisp – My little guy brought this home from the elementary school library and I took advantage of his early bedtime to read it for myself (bookish mom moment!). A quick read, but such fun.
Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, by Judy Blume – This was a re-read – my work book club selected it for our inaugural meeting. It was fun to re-visit Margaret; I hadn’t read the book since 2015, when I was in a newborn Nugget haze, and I had forgotten almost all of the details. And then I ended up unable to make the meeting.
Curtain (Hercule Poirot #44), by Agatha Christie – I had an episode of Shedunnit on detective swan songs, which contained major plot spoilers, and which I’d been saving until I finally got around to reading this – check, both the book and the podcast. It was a brilliant mystery and a fitting send-off for Hercule Poirot.
Sinister Spring, by Agatha Christie – Guess I was still in the mood for murder and mayhem, because next I picked up this collection of spring-themed mysteries. A fun romp! Lots of jewel heists in this one; classic.
The Three Musketeers, by Alexandre Dumas – Full review (for the Classics Club) to come, but I really enjoyed this swashbuckling, silly whopper of a book.
Letter from New York, by Helene Hanff – I don’t know how this one escaped my notice for so long – I loved 84, Charing Cross Road – but when Manderley Press announced that they were publishing this classic collection of Helene Hanff’s BBC Women’s Hour broadcasts in a gorgeous new edition, I grabbed it. It’s a love letter to Manhattan and a complete delight to read. I loved every word.
Coronation, by Paul Gallico – I bought this cute little hardback on a whim because of the Coronation and really enjoyed it. It follows a working class family who decide to sacrifice their summer holiday in order to travel to London for the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II – and of course, things don’t go to plan. A quick read and very sweet.
A Nature Poem for Every Spring Evening, ed. Jane McMorland Hunter – I have loved reading Jane McMorland Hunter’s daily selections of nature poetry for the past two seasons! This one covers March through May and includes a lovely poem – including some old favorites and introducing some new favorites – for each evening. So far there hasn’t been any announcement of a continuation of this series into summer, but I continue to hope.
Quite a month! May is always a big reading month for me – probably because it’s a long month. It was a good one, too; I enjoyed everything I read this month. There were definite highlights, though… Helene Hanff’s Letter from New York was one of the most delightful books I’ve read in a very long time – maybe ever. (And inspired me to order two of her lesser-known books, Apple of My Eye and Q’s Legacy, from AbeBooks – they’ve just arrived so I’m looking forward to more of her lovely writing in the coming days. A Countryman’s Spring Notebook was another highlight, and I really hope Slightly Foxed is able to continue the series and publish Bell’s nature columns for every season. And any month that includes Agatha Christie is a good month, too – Curtain was a fitting farewell to Poirot and Sinister Spring such a fun collection (with a pretty cover!). Goodness, I was busy in May.
Happy new week, and happy new month – how is it June already? It was a short week – last week I published my weekly reading recap on Tuesday because of Memorial Day, yet somehow I managed to finish up five books, and start a sixth, in six days. I guess my reading mojo is back, huh? Amazing what not having a real estate closing looming over you can do for the bookish attention span.
Although I have to say, in full disclosure, several of the books I finished this past week were already well underway by the start of the week. I was about a month behind in A Nature Poem for Every Spring Evening, but that means I was two-thirds of the way through the book when I picked it back up; it’s an anthology of one poem to read each night from March through May, and I was into early May when I fell off the wagon – so I only had to read about thirty poems to finish it up. My Garden World, I’d begun on Memorial Day and finished up by midweek (Monty Don is such a wonderful writer). And The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels, I’d been listening to on Audible for about a month, here and there on commutes and grocery runs, so I only had about two hours of listening left. (When we head back to the office three days per week I expect my audiobook total to creep up.)
Bringing me to the books I started and finished this week – there were two of them. My work book club has chosen Crying in H Mart for our June pick, and I had to read it quickly before my library deadline loomed, since there’s a wait list. Michelle Zauner’s memoir of growing up biracial and losing her mother to cancer at only 56 is heart-wrenching (and to be honest, probably too sad for me if it wasn’t a book club choice). I had to follow it with something much more cheerful, so I grabbed one of my Mother’s Day gifts – Poems for Happiness, an anthology of poetry that explores the themes of happiness, contentment and joy – just what the doctor ordered. I read most of it stretched out on a deck chair while Nugget ran around a water park with his friends yesterday, and finished the last bit after bedtime. And since I can’t go to sleep if I’m between books, I picked up The Small House at Allington, the penultimate book on my Classics Club list (and another doorstopper – it took me about seven short reads to work up the hype). I expect to spend the entire week over this, but I am planning to take a break over this coming weekend; Peanut and I are headed to Cornell Reunion for a girls’ weekend (the boys are staying home – it’s Little League playoffs) and I’m bringing along a murder mystery set in a library that was inspired by one of the libraries at Cornell. And then after that murdery interlude, it’ll be back to Trollope.
It’s the little feet sticking up for me! Nugget had a SEVEN HOUR birthday party to attend at a water park near our house on Sunday (although we were an hour late – but a six hour birthday party is still, as my friend Amanda put it, “some fine nonsense”). He had the best time, though. And I got some reading done and even made a few laps on the lazy river. High fives all around.
After two days on the Drake Passage, waiting with ever-increasing anticipation for the first glimpses of Antarctica (and distracting ourselves with spotting wandering albatrosses and looking out for whales in the distance – seeing none), we finally caught sight of the continent early in the morning on the third day. And our expedition staff went big for the first Antarctic adventure, with an early morning cruise through the Lemaire Channel.
The Lemaire Channel is an approximately seven mile long passage between mainland Antarctica and several close-in islands, in an area of the Peninsula that was largely explored by the French. It’s often called the “Kodak Channel” or the “Kodak Gap” because it’s just so darn photogenic.
I mean – look at that. Can you even?
Although it was only 7:00 a.m., the entire ship was out on the bow taking in these first views. The morning was a little foggy, but there was sunlight dancing over the craggy peaks on either side of the channel.
Steve spotted a penguin colony in the distance and tried to point it out to me, but I couldn’t see anything – it was okay, though. I was busy breathlessly taking in the mountains and glaciers, which were like nothing I’d ever seen before.
First sight of glaciers! I’d actually never seen a glacier, and now that I’ve been to Antarctica I’m spoiled for all other glaciers. There’s no way any other glacier could ever be as spectacular.
I’d read that one of the most surprising things about Antarctica is the many shades of blue in the ice – it’s not just white and grey. Even knowing that the ice would be blue, I was still bowled over by the stark beauty of it.
As I was looking out at the scenery, one of the expedition staff members – a veteran of many trips to the Arctic and Antarctic – appeared at my elbow and asked me if I saw the crabeater seals. “There are three of them hauled out on that sea ice over there,” he added, pointing to a small floating ice island just off the ship’s starboard side.
My first Antarctic wildlife sighting!
One of the seals was definitely a pup, and one of the adults I assume was the mother; there was another adult napping a few feet away.
As we slowly cruised by, I watched in awe and delight as the seals flopped around, lifted their heads, and checked out the ship.
The colors were amazing – not just the incredible tropical blue of the ice beneath the little berg, but also the gleaming silver of the crabeater seals’ sleek coats.
I could have watched these three all day, but they were stationary and we were not; eventually we passed their floating haven and continued through the channel.
I’d picked the right place to stand, because I had a perfect view of a slight disturbance in the water, and then… “Whale!” called out one of the other passengers.
Now this… this was what I’d traveled all that way to see. Our first Antarctic whale sighting!
The whale was casually surfacing and diving, enjoying a bonanza of krill in the chilly waters – this is buffet time for whales, and the reason we decided to go to Antarctica in February.
Eventually it did a deeper dive, flicking its fluke at us as a signal that it was gone for awhile. The dramatically slanted dorsal fin fooled me into thinking that this might be an Antarctic minke, but when I showed the pictures to the trip’s marine biologist he confirmed without a doubt that it was a humpback. My favorite whale? I’ll take it.
Eventually we cruised out of the channel and into wider waters, flanked by icebergs the size of city blocks – this was definitely terra incognita australis, the unknown southern land. And what a way to start our adventure!
The other day, Nugget and I were headed out the door to meet up with one of his buddies for a play date. As I always do, I threw together a bag with snacks and two full water bottles (because, to quote toddler Nugget, “it’th important to thtay hydwated.”). To carry it all, I reached for one of my favorite tote bags – a canvas bag with rainbow-striped woven straps, which I bought from the Shedunnitshow with a selection of used Ngaio Marsh novels. I love this bag. It’s the perfect size to carry those playdate essentials. And, to be honest, murder mysteries are my bag.
As we walked to the car, Nugget asked me what my bag said. I told him. He thought for a minute, then asked, “Why do you like books where people die?”
A valid question. I’m known for having the reading tastes of your granny (my co-workers like to poke gentle fun at me for it!) – no swears, please, and also no steamy scenes or gratuitous violence, thanks. As he buckled his seat belt, I explained that I like figuring out the clues and that mystery novels have a tidy resolution where everything is wrapped up in the end, and I started to elaborate on convalescent literature before I realized that my audience was now staring out the car window, not listening to me. But it got me thinking about the reasons why I really do like golden age (and modern cozy) mystery novels.
I like a good puzzle. I enjoy piecing together clues, forming a theory, and seeing if I’m right. The intellectual exercise of it is fun for me. (And often I do correctly figure out “whodunit” but I don’t pick up on all of the clues pointing me to the culprit – it’s a sense of “I don’t trust X” or “Why are we so sure that Y is telling the truth?” more than “Aha, the precise time of day that the candlestick went missing means that it must be Mrs. Peacock.”) Figuring out the answer to the puzzle is often the easy part, and it’s fitting all the clues into place that holds the surprises. This fascinates me.
Everything works out in the end. The old convalescent literature thing. When times are tough, it’s comforting to read a book where – no matter the terrible things that happen earlier in the narrative – you can be totally sure that in the end, it will all make sense. The puzzle pieces will fit together. No loose ends. Justice will be served. In real life, mysteries go unsolved all the time and justice is not always served. Things are unfair, people do unaccountable things, and it doesn’t always make sense. To pick up a book where you are guaranteed a tidy resolution is profound self-comfort – I’d argue it can even be self-care – especially in our current tumultuous and uncertain times.
The scary stuff happens off the page. I don’t read modern thrillers and there’s a reason – I really don’t like to read about violence. (See above: there’s plenty of that on the news.) That’s why I stick to golden age and vintage detective stories and cozy mysteries – usually novels and series set in past time periods, to take modern forensic investigation methods out of the detective’s toolbox and cell phones out of the hands of, well, everyone – yes, someone generally dies (it’s a murder mystery) but the real violence happens off page. And usually not to a character that the reader cares about – it’ll either be someone insufferable (not that even an insufferable person deserves to die, of course, but we’re talking about 1930s novels here) or a stranger. Not a character that I’ve grown to love. Dorothy L. Sayers isn’t going to have Lord Peter investigating Harriet’s death, or Bunter’s. Agatha Christie won’t kill off Ariadne Oliver. So the reader can focus on the puzzle and not have to worry about getting upset at the death of a beloved fictional friend.
They’re atmospheric. I’m living a prosaic suburban lawyer mom life in 2023. Books are the only way I’m going to get to enjoy a visit to an English country manor between the wars, or the Orient Express in the golden age of train travel, or a medieval Welsh monastery, or a glitzy nightclub in 1930s London. I’m in it for the settings, the descriptions of long-gone food and fashion trends, and the immersion into a bygone world just as much as I am for the puzzle or the red herrings or the denouement.
At the end of the day, too, you need some stakes or you won’t be able to keep a narrative going for long. Nugget, bless his little readerly heart, is just learning that. (We do have Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire on his bedside table, so if he doesn’t know what literary stakes are yet, he’s about to find out.)
Are you a mystery reader? Why do you like whodunits?
Good morning, and happy Tuesday! I hope you’re recovering well from your long weekend – we had a good one, and some people (coughKIDScough) had definite post-holiday blues when it was time to get ready for school this morning. It was a busy and full three days – including a trip to the pool (and first time on the diving board for the little guy), kayaking with friends, and a cookout with the same friends that lasted eight hours because everyone was having such a good time. Mix in some quality time with the Peloton and really the only thing missing was a lot of reading time, although you wouldn’t know it.
I finished up The Three Musketeers mid-week last week, and now I’m down to just two books left in my Classics Club challenge, before my deadline of July. Home stretch! Before picking up the next doorstopper I wanted to decompress with some shorter books and/or faster reads, so I blazed through Coronation (takes place in early June, so perhaps I should have waited, but I guess I read it in between the recent coronation and the month of the action, so there you are) and Letter from New York (which was one of the most charming books I’ve read in many, many months – loved every word) before turning to My Garden World, which is the last book remaining on my spring stack. In between, I sprinkled in poems here and there out of A Nature Poem for Every Spring Evening, which I’d like to finish up by the end of May. So – quite a bit of reading, but much of it taking place over the workweek and less so over the weekend. I do often see my reading pace slow down at this time of year, when there’s so much I want to be doing outdoors, so this isn’t unexpected.
I’m not sure what’s on deck next. My work team has started a book club and our June book is Crying in H Mart; I have it checked out from the library and may read that next, as there’s a waiting list and I won’t be able to renew it. But I also have a few other books I’d like to get to in June, so maybe one of them? We’ll see – it will be a game time decision.
It’s officially summer when the kayaks are in the water! We met up with friends (the canoeists in the pic above) at a small lake in Maryland for a paddle. The lake was tinier than expected so we mostly bobbed around looking at birds, but I don’t think anyone was mad about it.
How was your Memorial Day weekend? What are you reading these days?
Okay, not George Washington, but I couldn’t resist the Hamilton lyric. It me! I’m going home! And I’m not George Washington, probably.
So I’ve made a couple of vague mentions of a big, stressful family project and a major milestone. As you might have guessed, the big project was a home purchase. And the major milestone was closing. Just seven years after moving back home to northern Virginia, we are finally in possession of the keys to our forever house! Whew. I’ve been avoiding writing this blog post so as not to jinx anything (I’m very superstitious) but – with closing behind us, we are officially homeowners again and I’m feeling a weird mixture of relief, elation, excitement, and exhaustion. It’s been a roller coaster.
I’ve gotten a lot of questions from friends and family who’ve been following along with the house-hunting saga:
How is the market? Horrible. I mean, great if you want to sell your house. Absolutely miserable if you want to buy – at least, in our area it was. We feel very blessed that we got a place, and that it didn’t take a year.
Is the house what you were looking for? Yes! It helped that we were pretty open-minded. At the beginning of our house hunt – which we started in earnest when we got home from Antarctica, although we’d been casually watching the market for about a year before then – we sat down with our realtor and talked about our priorities. Steve and I were in agreement that we really only cared about two things: we wanted a house (1) on a quiet street, and (2) in our same high school pyramid. Bonus points for the same elementary school. Beyond that, we were open to anything – any style, any condition, any size – within our budget, of course. (Our realtor told us that our expectations were “not unreasonable” and after that our rallying cry became “Go Team Expectations Are Not Unreasonable!”) We ended up finding a house on a cul-de-sac off a no-outlet road, so about as quiet as it gets, and in the same elementary-middle-high school chain. We’re absolutely thrilled.
So why now? Well, the short answer is that the lease on the house we’re currently renting is expiring and we did not want to extend it. We’re not thrilled with our current place and didn’t want to live here another year (although we could have, if it had come to that). We kind of hate our house and our street – love our actual neighbors, the people in our neighborhood are down-to-earth and delightful. But our biggest complaint for the past three years has been that we’ve been living on a street that is surprisingly busy: cars use our neighborhood as a cut-through, and we’re constantly seeing people fly up the street at 20 mph over the posted speed limit. These are drivers that don’t live in the neighborhood and neither know, nor care, that there are kids living in almost every house on the street, every single one of whom has almost been hit multiple times. Every time a car goes screaming by the house, I feel less safe. So we really, really wanted to go. We were just ready. And we couldn’t be happier to be moving to a much quieter street.
When will you move in? Towards the end of June – the house needs a lot of cosmetic updating, much of which will be easier to do before we have furniture in the space. We’ve been working on lining up contractors since we went under contract last month, and our first project has already started – YAY! We’re lucky in that the previous owner kept the boring/expensive stuff very up-to-date (the roof, windows, all the systems – all quite new and in excellent condition) but did nothing cosmetic. So we just get to make the fun decisions and enjoy a new roof that we don’t have to pay for. That’s the main reason we’re waiting about six weeks to move in – the other is that our movers were booked up until then anyway, heh.
Are you excited? We are! So excited. This has been quite a saga. We have actually been loving this house from afar and we tried to buy it off market back in March; we were shut down and then surprised when the house was listed for sale just a couple of weeks later. It was definitely meant to be. I’ve been running through the neighborhood for three years, wishing I lived on one of its quiet streets, and we couldn’t be happier to be moving into our dream neighborhood soon. And the fact that the kids will be safely enrolled in the high school pyramid that we carefully chose three years ago, with no disruption – not even a change in elementary schools – is amazing.
I’m not going to share many details about the move or the home renovation that we’re going to be doing – this isn’t a home reno or a DIY blog, for one thing, and I am notoriously private about my space, for another. (It’s a running joke with my colleagues that I hate it when people look into my house during zoom meetings.) But now you know why I’ve been too fried to read much lately – I’ve been reading real estate documents and lying awake gaming out doomsday scenarios in which the rug gets ripped out from under us and we have to scramble to find another rental. Glad to have that behind me, and now on to the fun stuff – picking paint colors!
Happy Monday… afternoon/evening, whoops! It’s been another long one, folks. I always mean to write this post first thing in the morning and it seems half the time I forget, and don’t think of it until late in the day… or Tuesday. This time, I have an excuse – I had an early morning meeting at our new house! So, for those who have noticed the vague references to a big/stressful family project and haven’t actually guessed (I always think I’m more mysterious than I actually am) – the big project is Adventures in Real Estate. We’re buying and renovating a house – last Thursday was the big closing day and it went off smoothly despite my many fears, and now we’re into the fun stuff. Today I was giving last minute instructions to the house painters and bathroom renovator as both started their work, and then I rushed home to jump into an all-day work meeting and only just came up for air. But this is a good development, we’re all very excited about it, and I’ll share (a few) more details on Wednesday.
So, as you can see, it was a slow reading week for good reason. Closing week is always stressful – I’ve been through it a few times – and I often lack the brain power for a book during those really anxious, busy weeks. And another reason: after finishing up Sinister Spring on Monday morning, I turned to The Three Musketeers, which is a doorstopper at 672 pages (my edition, anyway). As of press time, I’m about 425-ish pages in, so making good progress especially considering the hectic week, and I expect to be done with the book by the middle of this week or so. It’s good, swashbuckling, silly fun and I’m enjoying it – just finding it hard to carve out the time to sit down and get lost in d’Artagnan’s adventures with the Three Musketeers.
After this, I’m craving something shorter – a novella or some other quick read will be just what the doctor ordered. No specific book in mind, although my work book club is reading Crying in H Mart for our June meeting and I just got a notification that my library hold copy is on its way, so perhaps that? We’ll see.
Exciting stuff! Just seven years after selling our house in western New York and moving back to Virginia, we’re finally homeowners again! We couldn’t be happier with our new house – it’s in the neighborhood we wanted, on a nice quiet street, with great bones and lots of scope for us to personalize it and make it exactly what we want. We’ve already met a few of our soon-to-be new neighbors and they have all been so friendly and welcoming. Moving day can’t come soon enough!
After literally years of waiting for this moment – dreaming, planning, having the rug pulled out from under me, planning some more – the Ocean Diamond was docked in the Port of Ushuaia, the gangway was down and it was time to GO TO ANTARCTICA! To be perfectly honest, I was almost afraid to believe it until the moment my feet were both on the gangway. (And even then, until we actually lifted anchor I was half afraid someone would appear at my elbow and say, “Excuse me, ma’am, there seems to be some mistake.”) But that didn’t happen – of course it didn’t – and Steve and I found ourselves on board, giddily exploring the ship as we waited to leave the harbor and strike out on our adventure.
First on the agenda was finding our cabin. We’d booked a twin window cabin and were up on the sixth deck, right by the lifeboats.
In retrospect, if I had it to do over again knowing everything I know now, I probably would have saved some money and gotten a porthole instead of a window. I figured we would want to have the window so we could keep a constant watch for whale tails, but we spent less time in our cabin than I expected. (That said, I did spot several spouts and whale tails out of this window so…)
I’ve never been on a cruise ship before (and an Antarctica cruise isn’t really like anything else…) so I found it fascinating that everything, literally everything, was bolted down. Not a surprise, just fascinating. And the expedition staff were very clear that we should secure all of our possessions in closets and drawers before going to bed at night, or things would fly around the cabin – especially while we were crossing the Drake Passage. I was very diligent about stowing everything, and even so, I had to get up in the middle of the night to reorient my suitcase, which was rolling around and smashing into the closet doors the first night. (I learned my lesson quickly – that was the first and last time I stowed my suitcase upright.)
After finding our room, we stopped by the lounge to pick up afternoon tea snacks to share, and then sat through our embarkation briefing – the first of many briefings we would attend over the next two weeks. All of the food was delicious, but the little slices of coconut cake were the star of the show.
Briefing done, we wandered around the ship some more. I really wanted to be on the stern to wave goodbye to Ushuaia. We found a spot to stand up on the seventh deck – the observation level – and checked out all the fun toys stacked up on deck six: about a dozen zodiacs and – exciting stuff here, people – the sea kayaks we’d be paddling in Antarctica!
As we stood looking out over the exciting adventure apparatus, the ship started moving almost imperceptibly at first, then picking up a little bit – the Port of Ushuaia started to recede, and we were officially underway!
Two adventurers ready to go!
The evening was devoted to exiting the Beagle Channel. We sailed past Puerto Williams, Chile (barely visible in the picture above, snuggled just below the saddle of two mountains) and passed another ship also headed south out of the Beagle. The first hours were smooth and uneventful – the Beagle Channel has its moments, but it’s nothing compared to the Drake and we lucked into quiet waters. We took advantage of the opportunity to wander around the decks some more, looking out for whales (hey, you never know) and other wildlife (someone saw a Magellanic penguin, but it wasn’t us!).
In fact, that’s largely what we did for the next two days. We lucked out with a decent crossing of the Drake – the waves were 14-18 feet at times and rolling, but I am not prone to motion sickness; Steve is but he wore Relief Bands and was fine. While I discovered that I don’t sleep much on boats, neither one of us got sick, which was fortunate because our sea days were packed with briefings – zodiac safety; gear checks with our kayak group; parka and muck boot fittings; wildlife lectures. We did find some time to test out our new Quark Expeditions parkas on the decks as we watched albatrosses and petrels swoop behind the ship.
These are two people who are ready for a big adventure!
covered in flour 