Good Sh*!

I don’t use ‘dirty’ words often. Here I use sh*! very literally, not even as a swear word.  Picture this:  minus 8 degrees outside (OK, it is Celsius) , a foot of snow on the ground, and I decide to take the dogs for a romp in the woods. After all, there isn’t any mud, so there will be no need for bathes afterwards (for the dogs, anyway).

And I can start letting Tuca off lead a bit. She can’t get too far ahead in the snow, and we can follow her trail easily to find her if she doesn’t come back. By we, I mean our other dog Ute and I. Ute is very reliable, so I Know he’ll come back right away, or look for Tuca if I ask him to.

Of course, the woods don’t look the same in the snow. And I get a bit overconfident about being able to follow our trail or my shadow directions back… so we get a little lost. Not to worry, these woods are small and bordered on every side by civilization, so no real danger. But when Tuca flushes a deer and gives (very slow) chase, it adds a significant and interesting branch to our walk, which is now a trot. And I decide we need to head out of the woods at nearest edge, to travel home on the semi cleared sidewalks for more comfortable, and quicker, travel.

I did wear snow boots and snowboarding pants, but my gloves are fingerless and my hands are starting to get too cold for comfort. I can’t keep them in my pockets while the dogs are on leashes as we walk near the road full of cars, you see. (See where this is going yet?)

Despite our hour of wandering in the woods and leaving dog “posts” along the path (the dogs, not me), Ute still manages to leave a steamy pile in the snow near the sidewalk, so of course I have to pick this up (in a plastic bag, brought along or this purpose). Guess what? Nature’s hand warmer. The term “Good Shit” carries a whole new meaning for me now.

I suppose I could get all existential and ponder what this suggests for a philosophical attitude toward life, but I think I’ll stop here and just appreciate what a difference timing and attitude both make when shit goes down.

Healing and Hashing

This Pic is prior to my injury- but is from my first Hash run  :0

It was Very hot out- about 90 F (32 C), but there were a couple refreshment stops. And, even more refreshing, a stop to play with puppies.

The course was said to be 4 km.  It took us an hour and a half. I ran 5 miles. I still don’t know how long the actual course was.

I do know I accidently knocked someone’s (OK, my) beer off the 4^th floor balcony railing at the after run gathering. Oops.

There were at least 5 languages spoken by participants. I wish I was capable in more than one of them, but at least I recognize them. And I am learning new words in several languages- none of which will be repeated here. I love that I can run with a group and at my own pace, and we still stay together, despite the variety of paces. This could get addicting, but I have to figure out how to run a low alcohol version… I certainly don’t need anything to expand my silly factor.  Note to self: Bring non-alcohol beer to next Hash.

Thanks to the members of  Hash-House-Harriers of Bucharest for letting me play with you.

ooops

August 15, 2015

Advice (for anywhere)   -

1. avoid knife fights. The knife will win.

2. use that first aid training- clamp down on a bleeding wound and don’t let go until the dr. wants to see it.

Romania does however have excellent surgeons, and common practice is to do the surgery the same day you get to the emergency room, not three appts with specialists later. The hand surgeon (notice it was a specialist) was terrific, and does the follow up himself, accompanied by the second surgeon all the way through. She was also wonderful, and both spoke good English, which was comforting. Nerve reconnected and already feeling tingly, only 4 days later. Profound Flexor Tendon: damage done -70% through cut -- repaired and still moves (though splinted, and I am under serious orders to Not bend it).

Very little swelling, No pain.  Surgeons change the dressings each few days. Wow. And while I seem to have head of line privileges, as a guest of Romania I suppose, the other patients are getting the same high quality medical attention.

So many options

Riding the bus in Romania is probably like anywhere else, but I have little experience elsewhere on buses.  On the RATB  (Regia Autonomă de Transport Bucureşti) website, I can get a route planned for me. Using the Google browser, I can use Romanian websites and Google translates them for me. Holy Cow Batman! Right out of Star Trek!!  The RATB site does have its own English language version though, and it is easier to read.

Google is a literal translator, which can be amusing sometimes. For instance, it can change the numbers of prices, but then it changes the currency without doing an actual conversion. Something that is 1,3 Lei can show up as 1.3 Euros, which is about 4 times the actual cost. Oops.  I am glad I don’t depend on it to translate Klingon or Ferengi !

Of course, if the bus on which we are riding has a scrolling destination screen that does not update, we could miss our stop and go the whole circuit, back to where we started. Which we did. Now we know everywhere the 301 line stops, and doesn’t. And, Katherine and I had several interesting conversations. 

I also ate way too many pastries. Yes- I can consume wheat in this country without getting a migraine! Even if I eat two pastries, a soft pretzel, and have half a dark beer with lunch. I may never move away from here, but I don’t know if it will be because I love it or because I will have gotten too fat to move at all.

Bucharest is an interesting mix of old and new, traditional and imported, cheap and high quality. This mix applies to the merchandise as well as the people, but as you can see from the photo, some things are basically the same in all big cities. I keep finding more reasons to love it here. Oh, the waterfall is running in the pond in our backyard now. Perfect place to enjoy a beer.

good news- bad news

July 17, 2014

It’s a Good News- Bed News day.

Good News – My clothes and I are all clean now.

Bad News- Kitten frightened by dog (Ute) pooped all over my ‘Minions have the TARDIS’ shirt.

Good News- I didn’t set the kitchen on fire (traveling hint: Butane apparently burns hotter than natural gas).

Bed news- I had to do a bit more kitchen cleaning today than intended

Good News- New sod may be in on Saturday

Bed News- it has taken all day for the gardeners to dig up the yard by hand to prep for the sod, so Ute couldn't play in the yard today.

Good News – We went on multiple walks.

Bed news- There was this kitten…

Opportunistic education

Went walking with Ute, and taking pictures. I imagine some conversations I could get into as we walk, so I have an idea of how many words I don’t know and what to look up when I get home (Ok, I don’t make a list and I never remember later, but it’s still good practice). So, of course as my dog relieves himself, I wonder what would happen if someone came and got upset with me about my dog pooping on the grass outside their compound. I have a feeling that the word ‘shit’ is pretty universal. And because I learned the word for ‘sack’ as part of a tongue twister, I could show my plastic bag, say roughly, ‘my sack’ (mea sac) and ‘my dog shit’ (mea caine shit).  I don’t think I could do that with a straight face though. Luckily, this conversation is not likely to come up, as few people even make eye contact when we are walking, and I can always  blame the poo on the street dogs.

The construction around our house is on-going, although it seems contagious now. The workers have removed the neighbor’s fence and are repainting and rebuilding it. Then, this morning, the thunder started and it rained hard for a little while. I looked up the word for rain, but didn’t know how to pronounce it. The construction guys are on smoke break waiting for the rain to stop and dry a bit, so I look up the word for ‘read’ and ask one of them to read to me. They look amused and all three come to the porch where I have set up a table and my books. I show them one of the children’s books I have and explain I need help with pronouncing words. They are even more amused, and we read two pages, about 50 words, while they correct my pronunciation. Then my brain is full. I give them cookies, and they go back to work.

Around town

I was shopping for a purse yesterday. I haven’t carried a purse for years, but I seem to be the only one wearing a backpack here. I thought maybe I should adjust, in the interest of not looking completely and obviously foreign.

I wanted something appropriate for summer and walking around the town and city. Not a giant shopping bag, but big enough to carry a water bottle, or maybe the camera, if I decide to take it without its own bag. And one last thing, I don’t want one made in China. That was the hard part. The prices ranged from a low of about 100 leu, to over 800 leu. That’s roughly $35 to $260. Ouch. And these are synthetic, like vinyl and plastic. I think some of the more expensive ones might have been leather, but honestly, I didn’t look that close. I wasn’t going to spend that much. Patience paid off. Three trips to the mall, and comparison shopping, plus spring sales meant I got a nice tan and black canvas bag, made in Belgium, for under 50 leu. I celebrated by spending 10 Leu on a jar of caviar. Probably not sturgeon, but small, black, and delicious anyway.

Then I walked home, because I had spent my cab fare. 

One of many street dogs, though most are pretty skinny, not fat like this one at a busy commuter bus stop.

 Building under construction. There are a great many things here under construction, or at least that appear to be under construction. Some are incomplete, but have been that way for years.

The bus ticket window, where I bought bus passes. Which I didn't use yesterday when I walked home in the 90+ degree (Fahrenheit) weather. I have to learn which buses go where.  

Many people leave water buckets and scraps out for the street dogs. I have seen meat scraps, leftover sandwich parts, bread, thawed frozen vegetables, and cottage cheese. I leave kibble with some distilled water in it for one of my favorites. I think her teeth are bad, so the dry kibble is difficult for her to eat. And oh, the regular water is pretty high in heavy metals and sometimes germs, so we only drink distilled and bottled water here. We were advised not to feed street dogs, but the poor thing was sooo skinny. I don't hand feed her though.