Eat Dessert First and Fly into the Grand Canyon

Plenty of people create a "bucket list" of activities they want to do or achieve in their lifetime. I am not one of those people. During a recent vacation, however, I did remember a couple of things I thought would be fun to do. And I was delighted to be able to do them! 

Both happened because of the new man in my life, which also makes me happy to report.

Even more fun-loving and adventurous than I am, Marlowe acted quickly when I commented to him and some friends that I've always wanted to eat dessert first.

Although my friends thought it was a good idea and were game to try it, I chickened out when the server brought us menus at a restaurant in Oceanside, California. I felt like I should not force my whims onto everyone else at the table. But I should have remembered who I was with.

My friends and Marlowe are not people who are prone to backing away from a fun experiment. I am grateful that they can be silly like me.

The server was befuddled when our dessert requests came first, but we convinced him we were serious, and away he went to place our orders.

The chocolate mousse, mudpie, bananas foster, and crème brûlée were delicious!

I highly recommend eating dessert first. You end up ordering a lighter meal afterward while still getting the deliciousness of dessert into your tummy. Win-win! 

Thanks to Roy, Carla, and their daughter Alicia for playing with us!

A couple of weeks later, on this same vacation in the USA, a second item on my non-existent bucket list was fulfilled - my desire to go on a helicopter flight into the Grand Canyon.

When I mentioned this idea to Marlowe, he was also interested and made it happen! Yes, I am a fortunate woman.

During a trip to Las Vegas to see some shows, we booked a flight to the Grand Canyon with Maverick Helicopters. It was my first time flying in a helicopter, but I was assured that the flight would be smooth and safe, so the nerves were quickly gone as soon as we took off.

We were lucky enough to be seated beside the pilot on the first leg of the trip, so we had a fabulous view as we flew into the canyon. Wow!

We landed at the base of the canyon, beside the Colorado River, and had a small snack plus photo opportunities before taking off to head back to Vegas.

Such a wonderful, memorable experience. 

 

As widowers, both Marlowe and I know that each day should be treated as precious. We are committed to doing what we can, together, to enjoy each moment as best we can. I am grateful to Marlowe for coming into my life and for helping me live my life to the fullest.

I hope you can travel your road and check off items on your bucket list with a fun-loving someone too.

A woman on the plane and our talk about life after loss

My seatmate on the flight from Medicine Hat, AB to Calgary was a wonderful, gentle 85-year-old woman. She impressed me in many ways.

She only became a widow a few months ago, after 65 years of marriage, whereas I've been a widow for three and a half years after 40 years of marriage to my soulmate, Al.

This was her first flight without her husband. I've been on many trips since my loss, but I'm also younger and still working too.

She visited family on this trip and had some fascinating experiences, including being sent to an emergency shelter while the town of Irvine, AB  was evacuated due to a train derailment. And she went whitewater rafting with some of her children, grandchildren, and maybe even great-grandchildren.

Yes. Whitewater rafting at age 85. As a new widow. Talk about inspiring.

We chatted about our families and how grateful we are that they've been so helpful and supportive to us after the deaths of our main men. We spoke with gratitude that we had great husbands and how meaningful, funny, and wonderful their memorial services were. We were proud of ourselves and our families.

We talked about where we're living and what is different about our daily lives now. We are learning how to live alone after decades of being a couple. Eating alone all the time - not by choice - is not fun. I told her how I don't eat at the table. I eat in the living room most of the time. She thanked me for telling her. The newly bereaved need to hear that it is okay to change the routine to feel a little more comfortable in this new life. Once again, I was grateful for what I've learned in bereavement support groups.

We talked about what we do to keep ourselves busy and I mentioned my work as a writer and book publisher. She was curious about my work and took a pre-order card for the Flight book with her.

When it was time to leave each other at the airport, we hugged and wished each other well.

I will think of her fondly and aspire to - maybe - go whitewater rafting myself in another 20-some years.

Yes, I will remember this sweet little lady from British Columbia who also lost her husband Al.

It's Potty Time in Europe

It's potty time in Europe! Yes, it's time to check out some of the places in which one can dispose of their ... er... waste while in France, Germany, and Switzerland.

On a recent vacation in Europe, my friend and fellow author Janice Howden and I saw amazing scenery, churches, canals, castles and more. But I was also intrigued by the variety of toilets we saw on our journey - because my weird mind works that way.

Jan (right) is the author of Rescued, her puppy dog's true story of finding a forever home. Jan and I were thrilled to see tulip fields for the first time.
No, there is no toilet in this photo. It's just a photo of us during one of the best moments of our trip. We loved the tulip fields in the Netherlands.

I found it interesting that European hotel rooms often have shoe shine cloths but no wash cloths or facial tissue, like those we are accustomed to using in North America. So you can clean your shoes but not use something to wash your face or wipe your nose.

We used this new-fangled, self-cleaning public toilet in Paris. It is on a sidewalk near the Notre Dame Cathedral. You press a button to enter. The door opens and closes behind you.

After you've done your business, you wash and blow-dry your hands. You press a button inside to exit the toilet. Then the door closes and locks so the toilet can clean itself with sanitizing water/spray before it allows the next person to enter. But you have to be done in 20 minutes or the toilet door opens! And you'd better not wait until the last minute to get in line because it takes a LONG time with the toilet cleaning after each person is done. You're better off using a pay toilet or going to a restaurant and buying something to use their toilet. The toilet room staff in those places help maintain cleanliness and ensure safety.  

This toilet in our hotel room in Basel, Switzerland gained my respect for its use of gravity. The tank is the highest placement above the toilet bowl than any I've ever seen. You even have to reach up a bit to use the flushing handle. Obviously not meant to be operated by children.

This fascinating trio of public toilets sits in Basel, Switzerland, beside a walking path along the Rhine River. I didn't go inside any of these street toilets, but I was very curious about the toilet on the left with the large, peeing man on it. His hat is probably a sleep hat, but I couldn't help thinking he was a jester from the old days. Stay tuned on that one...

Jan posed in front of this collection of self-cleaning toilets in downtown Basel. These toilets had better signage inside to explain the various functions.

The interior, although wet from the last sanitizing wash, was sparse and clean.

Toilet paper, anyone? It self-dispenses when you put your hand near it.

Water to wash. Dryer to dry.

At a public park in Switzerland, my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to see what this toilet was like inside. Big mistake. BIG! The image on the outside was the only funny thing about this toilet.
There are doors on both sides. Just standing near the entrance to one of the open doors was enough for me. Inside was a long trough on either side - one for Number One and one for Number Two. They were not cleaned out. If there was a flushing mechanism, it had not been used. I did not see anything for hand washing. I'm hoping I just missed these essential items because I left so quickly. Ewwwww! No wonder the doors were left open on both sides.
At least in the outhouse on the farm where I grew up in Western Canada, everything was down one hole dug into the ground, out of plain view, and the open air reduced the smell, especially in winter. Yuk.

Sorry about that. Moving on...

Now this I recognize! It's a Port-a-potty - European style - at a construction site in Switzerland.

In Koblenz, Germany we saw these portable potties at a downtown market square. I couldn't resist taking a photo of them with the fountain in the foreground. Maybe the water helps some people "go".

And now, we go back to the time before Christ, when the Romans had sewage systems, indoor plumbing and heated floors. These are the remains of a Roman sewer system in Cologne. Fascinating.

The Romans had running water, treated sewage, and other services that disappeared for generations after wars destroyed their innovations. So sad is the damage caused by war.

Ah, now, this is the toilet style I am used to - a flushing toilet, a clean bathroom, a sink to wash up - except the toilet paper is considerably lower down here than you'll see in North American bathrooms. I don't understand the thinking, but this was on a river cruise ship, so maybe space was a factor. It worked, though, except in the middle of the night once, when I had to search for the roll I had accidentally knocked off its low hanger. Oops.

And that concludes my look at some potties in some parts of Europe.

As our friend, the late Bob Hughes, former sports editor and managing editor of the Regina Leader-Post used to say, "Y'er welcome.”

Publishing Books in a “Widow” Way

“Marital Status:  WIDOW.” Just writing that word on a Canada Passport form startled me. It’s not that I don’t know that I’m a widow. My husband (and publishing business partner) Al Driver passed away on January 4^th after a four-month struggle with colon cancer (see blog post). So I know I am a widow. I just haven’t used the word very much yet.

And I’ve always found “widow” to be one of the saddest words in the English language.

“Widow” means that the person using it has lost someone very dear to them. Someone they most likely loved deeply. Someone who shared a large part of their everyday life – otherwise they would be writing “single”, “separated” or “divorced” on that form – although I imagine each of those words conjures up a whole set of emotions in the writer too.

What “widow” reminded me of was the 42 years I spent with this man – the love of my life. And how much I miss him and the times we shared.

Al and I met in college, taking journalism courses in Alberta. We have been together since I was 17 and he was 18.

In December, a couple of days after we found out that Al’s tumour was inoperable, I told him that what he said to me in November was right – we have had a wonderful run together. They have been great years – except for the times when he was a pain in the ass, I told him.

Al laughed and replied, “So what does that total then? Two good years?”

I laughed and said, “No. Forty. Counting the times I was a pain in the ass too.”

It was uncharacteristic of me to say “ass” because I don’t like that word, but you say words you detest when someone you love is dying. You freakin’ hate what is happening at that point and saying words that are harsher than your normal language somehow helps.

So here I am – a new widow. Trying to figure out a new, changed, daily life without the person I loved most in this world.

Filling out a form so I can travel is a good step. It means there is life after death – for my wounded soul.

It means I still have purpose on this earth. Being invited to go to Chicago to Book Expo America for my publishing company is part of that purpose.

One step at a time, one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time ... I’ll figure out this “widow” thing.

Maybe I’ll think of my now-adult children and my three little grandsons the next time I hear or have to write that word and I’ll remember how they used to pronounce the word “little” when they were young.

And I’ll think of myself as a “widow” publisher on the Prairies.

I would have smiled, but it's the passport office!
Smiling is not allowed here. Looking less than glum
is the best I could do in my out-of-focus selfie. Ha ha!

P.S. If you live in Canada, note that your passport may not be valid for international travel if it expires within six months of your travel date. The Canada Passport website says, "Your passport may have to be valid for up to six months after the date you enter the country you will be visiting. " Check details under the "Travel Advice and Passport Validity" section on this page. My sister told me of this change in rules for travel to the U.S. The Passport official told me about a man who arrived at their office with his plane ticket in hand after being turned away at the airport. So check your passport expiry date well before you plan a trip out of the country!

From Concentration Camp to German Castles - Blog Part 13

When my author/publisher Deana Driver and her husband (Publisher Al) planned their special vacation in Europe for this past summer, they knew that visiting a concentration camp was one of the stops they wanted to make on their journey. They took me - the Never Leave Your Wingman book - along on this day, and this is my report of what we saw at the camp memorial site in Dachau, Germany. (I've been blogging all fall about our trip. Here's my first blog in the series.)

Dachau Concentration Camp was the first of about 20 such camps in Germany set up by Adolf Hitler's regime during the Second World War. The camp was built for 12,000 prisoners but from 1933 to 1945, more than 200,000 prisoners went through the camp. About 40,000 of them died there. Prisoners were experimented on, starved, beaten, tortured, shot by firing squads, and horribly abused using methods that were later used in other concentration camps.

We spent about two hours walking through the memorial site, looking at the remaining and reconstructed buildings, and visiting the museum. It was all very sad.

This is the International Monument art installation to commemorate the prisoners of Dachau.

In the background are two reconstructed barracks buildings.

This monument says it all - Never Again.

Here`s my author in front of the barracks. A guard tower and section of the outer wall are behind her.

The prisoners were packed so tightly in the barracks that they slept head to foot on these bunks.    

This is where the other 32 barracks buildings used to sit, behind the first two that have been reconstructed.

The crematorium building on the left is yet another testament to the terror. On the right, a photograph shows when it was in use.

There are 12 stops along a Path of Remembrance leading from the concentration camp memorial into the town of Dachau. We could only walk to the first seven before we were overwhelmed with sadness and had to head back to our vehicle.

 The town of Dachau itself is more than 1,000 years old. This article answers some of the questions we had about how the people of this town could live in a community with such a horrid history. Survivors, history buffs and members of the new generation are honouring the history while trying to move on from the past.

We left Dachau the following day and headed for the town of Füssen in the Bavaria region of Germany. Here, we expected to see hills, mountains and beautiful castles. We were not disappointed.

Oh, we saw several Ausfahrts, too.

Publisher Al is the one who drove us everywhere on our long European vacation - and he couldn't stop himself from laughing every time he saw one of these signs - Ausfahrt.

Fahrt is German means ride or drive. Ausfahrt is the exit. Einfahrt is entrance. But that didn't stop Al from smiling at each one of these signs. It’s a guy thing.

Sights near Füssen include the mountains...

...all variety of bird houses on the side of a large building....

a lovely river...

...and unique treats like these large cookie balls.

My author bought a couple to try them out. She didn't like them, but at least she tried.

It’s always fun when a local person takes an interest in me - in this case, a local statue.

Did you notice she even put aside her own book to check me out?

Ah yes. While she is reading me, her friends are having fun with the watering can.

What a fun idea for a statue.

“Prost!” says Publisher Al, as he hoists a glass of beer at our German hotel. 

“Yummmmm!” said Publisher Al and author Deana, when they enjoyed homemade apple strudel – complete with both whipped cream and ice cream – the only way to eat strudel in Germany! 

And now it`s off to the first of two amazing castles.

Here are my publishers on the grounds of the Hohenschwangau castle. It was the childhood home of King Ludwig II, who as an adult spent 18 years building the opulent Neuschwanstein castle you see in the background. I’ll tell you about that castle later.

Castle Hohenschwangau is a beautiful castle...

...overlooking the town and providing a breathtaking view.

We weren’t allowed to take photos of the inside of the castles, so you`ll have to either do a Google search or take my word for it - they were ridiculously plush and amazing.

These are some of the gorgeous flowers in its garden and, at the bottom of the hill...

...we were surprised to see this lonely swan swimming so close to the shore of Lake Alpsee.

Schloss Hohenschwangau means High Swan County Palace, and the castle walls are full of references to swans. So I wondered if this swan was raised there to be part of the local story or if the swans came first and continue to make this their home. Hmmm...

This is one side of the Neuschwanstein Castle. It’s amazing already and we haven't even gone inside!

  

The front of the Neuschwanstein Castle is only visible by air from the opposite mountain, or in this glimpse from a nearby viewing spot. Walt Disney based his Sleeping Beauty Castle on this incredible German palace. He sent artists to Neuschwanstein to take photographs and to make sketches of the castle. When they returned to the U.S., they created the famous Disneyland castle from those images.

Neuschwanstein as seen from below.

Paintings in the town’s shops offer idyllic views of this spectacular castle.

While inside Neuschwanstein Castle, we saw people walking on Mary`s Bridge - which provides a great view of the castle as well as the waterfall in the gorge below the bridge.

We did not walk across that bridge. I don’t like heights - or being on a bridge high above a waterfall. This pretty picture will have to do for a memory of that spot.

“What’s that, you say? This is a good book?”

Ah, yes. My story does make people – or in this case, horses - fall in love all over again and my story gives them hope. Isn't that nice?

So that pretty much finishes our adventures in Germany for the summer - except for catching our flight home from Frankfurt, but that will only be a stopover night. 

From here, it’s on to Switzerland and France for a couple of days - and  then home!

Stay tuned...