Two Bad Cats

Here’s a typical morning at Rosings Park: I get up at 5:30, spend a few minutes checking e-mail and blog comments, pull on my workout clothes, and then head out the door for the gym. At the gym, I strain and sweat, and then I drive home to take a shower. After the shower, I have a bite to eat.

And through it all, there are cats. Okay, there aren’t any cats at the gym or in the car, but the rest of the time, there are cats. Too many cats. And often the cats are being bad. Here, for example, are Toto and Max demonstrating their favorite badnesses:

Yes, Toto loves to be on Kris’ computer. Usually she just sits upright on it, in classic cat pose. Apparently she’s decided it makes a nice bed, too. And Max? Well, he loves to jump into the window box, stretch against the screen, and then stare at us as we work in the kitchen. What a meatball.

No wonder I leave home as soon as possible so I can go get some work done at the office.

Interspecies Friendship: An Elephant’s Best Friend

It’s been nearly two years since I posted something new at Animal Intelligence. One of my goals is to share that stuff here Foldedspace. I’ve done a pretty poor job of that, but I want to change that. I’ll try to make it a habit to share things as soon as I see them instead of putting them off.

Let’s start with the story Tarra and Bella, a dog and an elephant who are best friends:

For those who are new to my obsession with animal intelligence, I’ll summarize: I think animals are, on the whole, far more intelligent than we give them credit. I think they’re capable of a wide range of emotion, psychological, and, yes, intellectual activity. No, there are no dolphin cities (to quote Rush Limbaugh), but since when are cities a measure of intelligence? Anyone who believes that animals are only acting on instinct has never spent a lot of time with them.

Anyhow, one of my favorite aspects of animal intelligence is interspecies friendship. That is, stories like this one about Tarra and Bella, when two different kinds of animals work together or form close bonds. There are plenty of these stories to be found, and I think they’re great.

If you find a good story about animal intelligence, please send it my way. I promise to post it here in a timely manner instead of waiting to revive my animal intelligence blog…

Timbers Army

It’s been an intense couple of weeks around the Roth-Gates household. Kris and I don’t fight often, but we’ve had a couple of rows lately, which should give you some idea of the stress level at Rosings Park.

Why so tense? Well, Your Money: The Missing Manual is finally in bookstores, and the public-relations push as begun. Between the PR, writing my personal-finance blog, and trying to squeeze in Real Life, there just hasn’t been much time for anything resembling a normal life.

Fortunately, the worst is behind us. Last week, I was a guest on 17 radio stations around the country, and I gave a presentation at Powell’s Books. (About 50 people came out to hear me, which was awesome. Thanks, everyone.) There’s still a bit of work ahead of me, but for the first time since last September, there are days at a stretch with nothing scheduled. Woohoo!

So, Kris and I are now much more relaxed. We’re able to spend time together working in the yard — and watching The Amazing Race.

I’m happy, too, because I can start hanging out with friends again. I knew this day would come, so I planned ahead. Though I’ve never done anything like this before, I decided to purchase two season tickets for the Portland Timbers, Portland’s pro soccer team. (The team will move to the MLS, the top U.S. soccer league, next year.) I’m hoping that I can rope one friend per match to join me.

Last Saturday was the first match of the year as the Timbers faced the Rochester Rhinos. (Say what? Are there a lot of Rhinoceroses — Rhinocerii? — in New York?) For this first match, I was joined by Michael Hampton and his nine-year-old son, Ethan. We met early to dine on pastrami and root beer at Kenny and Zuke’s, and then walked about ten blocks to the stadium.

There, I briefly said hello to Rich M., who first took me to a Timbers match back in 2008. (We also used to play soccer together as part of the woeful FC Saints.) Then Michael, Ethan, and I met up with Sinan and Nadir, who had saved seats for us in the midst of the Timbers Army.

Part of the fun of a soccer match (at least in most places around the world) is the fervor of the crowd. The folks who crowd the north end of Portland’s Civic Stadium do an admirable job of recreating this fervor. They chant and cheer and curse and sing. They wave flags and blow horns and set off smoke bombs. It’s a hell of a lot of fun, actually. (Sinan, who is from Croatia, loves Timbers matches.)

This photo from Oregonian photographer Thomas Boyd captures some of the fun:

I’m fairly certain this photo was taken in the 85th minute, after the Timbers scored on a penalty kick. Portland won the match 1-0, which was a lucky result. Though neither side played exceptionally well, the Rhinos were the better team, especially in the second half. But during the last ten minutes, Portland mounted a series of attacks, and finally found the back of the net after a Rhino hand ball.

And if you look very carefully, you can actually see me in the midst of these 15,418 fans. I felt very conspicuous in my rust-orange sweater Saturday night (Timbers fans dress in green and white), but it sure makes it easy to spot myself in the upper-right corner of the photo:

Anyhow, this was a perfect end to a tense week. And now I’m looking forward to a summer of Timbers matches with various friends. If you’d like to join me, drop me a line. I’m booked through the end of May, I think, but open for the games in June, July, and August. The only caveat is that you have to be ready to stand for 90 minutes, and you can’t have any compunctions about singing rowdy songs.

The Amazing Race

If you wonder why I haven’t been writing much around here, it’s not because of my personal-finance blog, and it’s not because I’ve been spending time promoting my book. Yes, I’ve been doing these things — and I’ve even begun to exercise again — but the real time-suck in my life lately is The Amazing Race.

Kris and I aren’t really fans of reality shows. Yes, we watch The Biggest Loser, but that’s because it’s about fitness, and because the first season we watched featured Tara Costa, who, quite frankly, kicked ass. We loved watching her outcompete the other contestants every single week. The Biggest Loser is actually pretty lousy television, for the most part. It’s excruciating how the show repeats stuff over and over and over again. (And I hate how they always show contestants doing stuff while there’s a voice-over describing exactly what’s going on — as if we cannot see.)

Anyhow, around Christmas, I read a rave review of The Amazing Race in some mainstream publication like Newsweek or The New York Times. The article mentioned something that piqued my interest: Since the Emmy Award for reality show was instituted, no show other than The Amazing Race has ever won it.

Now, I concede that “best reality show” isn’t exactly high praise. Still, I decided to take a look. I found some clips on YouTube and was intrigued, so I bought a season from iTunes. I watched the first three episodes and thought, “Wow! I love this.”

When Kris got home from work that cold December day, I suggested that she watch the show with me. “I don’t want to watch it,” she said. “It’s going to be lame.”

Fine. I continued to watch the show myself. Eventually, she watched part of an episode with me. When the show was over, she asked sheepishly, “Can we watch the first episode of the season?” And so we did. And we haven’t stopped watching since.

Note: For those of you unfamiliar with the premise, here’s how The Amazing Race works. Around a dozen teams of two gather at the starting line in a major U.S. city. Each team is composed of members with an existing relationship: best friends, sisters, “dating long-distance”, and so on. (There are certain “stock” couples every season, such as the gay couple, the Christian couple, the geeky couple, the black couple, the models, and the loudmouths.) Teams are given clues to find their next destination, which could be anywhere in the world. They have to figure out where they’re going, booking their own travel. Along the way, teams have to stop to perform certain challenges, such as bungie jumping or building a bicycle or eating raw octopus. At the end of (nearly) every leg, the last-place team is eliminated. At the end of about a dozen legs, the final team wins a million dollars.

We watched the three seasons that we could buy from iTunes (seasons 13, 14, and 15) between Christmas and New Year. Then we used Netflix to get seasons 1 and 8 (the only seasons available on DVD).

“I want to watch more,” Kris said when we’d finished.

“There isn’t anymore,” I said. “Only those five seasons are available to purchase. If we want the rest, we’ll have to get them illegally.”

First up, we asked Chris G. if he could check for bootleg copies of the other seasons as he traveled through southeast Asia in February. He checked, but couldn’t find them. Meanwhile, Kris and I watched seasons 13, 14, and 15 again.

“I want to watch more,” Kris said when we’d finished.

I sighed. “You know, there’s a guy online selling all fifteen seasons on DVD, but it’s surely not legal,” I said.

“Is there a legal way to buy the other seasons?” Kris asked.

“No,” I said.

“Then we don’t have any other choice. Buy them.”

And so I paid $150 to get all fifteen seasons on DVD. For the past two weeks, our evenings and weekends have been spent watching our favorite teams (and less-than-favorite teams) race across the world. We’ve watched seasons 2, 3, 4, and 5, and are now on season 6. (Man, Jonathan needs to put a cork in it. We’re hoping he and Victoria get eliminated soon. He’s an ass.)

So, that my friends, is why there hasn’t been much to read about here during the month of March. It’s not because of the book. It’s not because of the other blogs. It’s because of The Amazing Race.

Side Effects

It seems like every year, my allergies get worse. They come on in mid-March, knock me on my ass for about a month, and then leave during the middle of April. This year is no different — except they came on earlier and stronger than ever before.

I first noticed problems just before we left for Belize. Because of Oregon’s very mild winter, certain trees and flowers were beginning to blossom just after Valentine’s Day. I had some sneezing and sniffing, but then we left for a tropical climate and things were fine.

It was when we returned from our trip, however, that my troubles began. Almost immediately my eyes began to burn, my throat itched, my sinuses clogged, and I was floored by sneezing fits. The first week of March was awful.

During the second week of March, I had a bit of a respite. Whether from the Zyrtec or from the rain, my allergies took a rest. But the third week was worst of all. Last Tuesday, I was basically non-functional. I scratched out a quick post for Get Rich Slowly, but then I retreated into the bathtub for five or six hours, where I found some measure of relief.

My days were miserable, but my nights were worse. Because I couldn’t seem to find any medication that would alleviate my symptoms, sleeping became nearly impossible. On a normal night, my sleep chart looks like this:

Light grey indicates that I’m lying down. Dark grey indicates I’m asleep.

As you can see, I normally get into bed at about 10pm, fall asleep within half an hour, and sleep the whole night through. When Kris gets up at 5:30, I’m not really aware of it, but my sleep pattern is disrupted and I toss and turn until I finally wake up at around 6:30am.

That’s normal.

Here’s what my sleep has been like lately:

Light grey indicates that I’m lying down. Dark grey indicates I’m asleep.

This is a total mess. First of all, I’m napping during the day because I’m so tired from not getting sleep the night before. Then I’m trying to go to sleep early. In reality, I’m not able to doze off until about 11pm, but even then I’m unable to sleep for more than one cycle. (One of my sleep cycles is about 90 minutes, almost like clockwork.) And for a couple of hours in the middle of the night, I’m either tossing and turning so much that my body bug thinks I’m awake, or I actually get up and go downstairs to read and write — like I am right now. (It’s 2:15am.)

And through all of this, I’m miserable from congestion and sneezing and sore eyes and a scratchy throat.

What I really need to do is see an allergist, of course. I need to get tested, and then start receiving shots to cope with whatever it is that’s setting me off. But I’m a Roth, and we Roths don’t like doctors, so I haven’t taken that step. I think I soon will.

By the end of last week, I thought I had things under control. I was pumping myself full of Allegra or Claritin or Zyrtec, depending on which seemed to be effective at the time. I was rinsing my sinuses with my neti pot. And I was trying to stay indoors.

On Friday afternoon, I met Craig for dinner in downtown Portland. After dinner, we walked over to see the Trailblazers game. My allergies were bothering me, but not too much. I’d prepared in advance. As we strolled toward the Steel Bridge, we passed beneath a bunch of flowering ornamental cherry trees. Almost immediately, my eyes began to burn, my throat began to itch, I was sneezing, and my sinsuses clogged. Ugh. During the game, I was miserable. I had trouble sleeping that night and, especially, the next night. (Which is the evening the above “bad night” graph is from.)

Finally, I went to see a doctor on Sunday morning. I was at the “immediate care” clinic when it opened at nine.

The doctor listened to my symptoms sympathetically. “And what about a fever?” she asked as she examined me.

“I don’t have one,” I said.

“Actually, you do,” she said. “And it’s fairly high. This may have started as an allergy problem, but it’s grown worse. You have a sinus infection.” She prescribed an antibiotic and Claritin-D, which contains pseudo-ephedrine.

Now, when I was younger, I took pseudo-ephedrine all the time, primarily in the form of Sudafed. But this stuff is no longer available over the counter in Oregon. Because it’s the raw material for methamphetamine, it’s a controlled substance available by prescription only. I haven’t had pseudo-ephedrine in years. (Not in this house, anyway, which means nearly six years.)

The good news is: The stuff works. By Sunday afternoon, I could breathe again. My sinuses were clear. I felt almost human. Here’s what my sleep graph looked like last night:

Light grey indicates that I’m lying down. Dark grey indicates I’m asleep.

Note that from 9 to 10:30pm, I was laying down in bed watching The Amazing Race with Kris, so that doesn’t really count. And after about 7am, I was actually awake, but in bed reading. So, between 10:30 and 7, I got some sleep. It wasn’t perfect sleep, but it was much better than it has been. The main problem was I felt like my sleep was very very light. I didn’t feel well rested.

All day today, I felt great. My sinuses were mostly clear, I felt alert, and I worked hard. After a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast, I worked for ten hours straight. It was only when Kris got home at around 6pm that I realized I hadn’t eaten all day. That’s pretty odd, since normally I’m hungry all the time. I forced myself to eat a modest dinner.

But the real trouble began at bedtime. We watched an episode of The Amazing Race and then turned out the lights to go sleep. “That’s strange,” I said. “I’m not tired.” Still, I did my best to doze off. I slept fitfully for about three hours (or two full sleep cycles). Then, at about 1:30, I woke up, ready to go to work. I was startled to see that it was the middle of the night.

And so here I am, sitting at the kitchen table with two cats at my side. (The cats love it when I can’t sleep; they think it’s a game.) A quick check online shows that I’m suffering from typical side effects of pseudo-ephedrine: I’m not tired, I’m not hungry, but I’m not really altogether here, either. Sounds like a perfect state of mind for “busy work”, of which I have much to do. But I know I’m going to be in bad shape in the morning.

I guess I’d better make an appointment with the allergist. I don’t want to go through this again next year.

Spider-Man in Invasion of the Dragon Men

There are some things I treasure from my youth that kids today will just never get to experience. Film strips in school, for one. Buying your favorite song on a 45rpm vinyl record, for another. And, most of all, those book-and-record sets you could get from the local department store.

When Dave gave me his hi-fi record player recently, one of the first things I listened to was my book-and-record set of The Hobbit. I love it still after all these years.

While browsing at the Marvel Masterworks forum (where I’ve been mostly a lurker for over five years, though I visit it every night), I discovered a lost treasure. Apparently some enterprising folks have taken it upon themselves to actually record some of these old book-and-record sets and upload them to YouTube.

For example, here’s Spider-Man and the Invasion of the Dragon Men, a set I actually owned as a boy:

While listening/watching, I was grinning from ear to ear. I remember this distinctly, and have thought of it many times over the years. I never thought I’d have a chance to hear it again, though.

There are other book-and-record sets on YouTube, including:

If you’re a fan of these recordings, too, then hold onto your seat because I’m going to let you in on the mother lode: Check out The Power Records Pages, which has audio files and image files on separate pages. Wow!

The Lugubrious Life of Benjamin Button

I’m cleaning out some of my old text files, and I found this movie review, which I wrote last spring. Since tonight’s Oscar night (and this film was nominated for Best Picture last year), it seems like a good time to share it.

You know, a lot of times when I see well-reviewed movies, I like them. And even if I don’t, I understand why other people might. But there are times when I see a critically-acclaimed movie that I just don’t get it. So it is with The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, a recent movie about a man who ages backward. He’s born old and dies as an infant. (This is just like Mork from Ork’s son, if you’ll remember.)

Benjamin Button is not a bad movie; it’s just a bland movie, with nothing in particular to recommend it. The filmmakers want for the plot to be heavy and laden with meaning. It’s not. It’s almost poignant — but not quite.

For me, one of the most bizarre aspects of this film was how clumsy some of the shots seemed to be. I don’t tend to think of cinematography or staging as “clumsy”. Most of the time when we see a Hollywood film, things are so polished that they’re orders of magnitude beyond clumsy. But in this movie, there were a couple of times that I thought to myself, “That was awkward.”

(And here I wish I’d noted an example, but it’s been two weeks since I drafted this, and I can’t remember a specific instance of what I mean.)

Still, the film has its moments. Here’s an excerpt from a letter Button writes to his daughter:

It’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.

That’s brilliant stuff. I buy into this mindset 100%.

And here’s a terrific bit of dialogue that’s wasted in this film. Benjamin and Daisy, the love of his life, are “meeting in the middle”. He’s growing younger and she’s growing older. At this point, he’s about 26 (though looks 50ish) and she’s about 20. They go out to dinner. She pulls out a cigarette:

Benjamin: I didn’t know you smoked.
Daisy: I’m old enough. [beat] I’m old enough for a lot of things…

In a different movie, that could have been great. In this movie, it’s just sort of flaccid, as is much of what happens here.

Though I didn’t hate this film, I liked very little of it. My favorite part is probably the five or ten minutes during which Benjamin lives in the Russian city of Murmansk. He strikes up an affair with the wife of an American spy. While everyone else is asleep in their hotel, Benjamin and this woman spend time downstairs in the lobby, in the kitchen. They stay up all night and then separate in the early morning hours. It’s as if they live in an empty world that belongs only to them.

There’s no emotional center in Benjamin Button — none that you can believe, anyhow. It all feels contrived.

Winter Vacation 2010, Day Seven: Homeward Bound

Black Rock Lodge
Black Rock Lodge from along the Macal River

Alas, Friday saw the end of our time in Belize. We spent a quiet morning reading and watching birds. We wrote in our journals. We ate breakfast and lunch, savoring our last meals from the lodge’s excellent kitchen.

The food at Black Rock Lodge deserves a special mention. It’s great stuff, though not great in the same way you might think of a great restaurant. Instead, it’s great in a home-cooked way.

Breakfasts and lunches are ordered from a limited menu. They include traditional American fare (yogurt, french toast, tuna sandwiches, hamburgers) as well as Central American stuff (fresh tropical fruit, nachos, quesadillas, burritos). I loved the fact that I could order a breakfast with one slice of french toast, two scrambled eggs, a slice of ham, and a dollop of refried black beans. Delicious! (And I learned that I love refried black beans, something I hadn’t had before. I’m hooked now.)

Jungle
The Belizean jungle as seen from Black Rock Lodge

As I mentioned before, dinners at Black Rock are served family style. Each cabana is assigned a seat ever night, usually next to somebody you haven’t dined with before. Everyone chats and gets to know the other guests. You only have two choices for dinner: meat or veg. Otherwise all guests (and staff) eat the same thing.

Dinner starts with fresh bread and soup — and what soups we ate! They were delicious! Even soups I might not care to try turned out to be fantastic: cream of celery, cucumber, pumpkin and coconut, potato dill. Following the soup, we’re served a salad (a different salad every night) and our entree. And then, at the end, comes a small dessert.

Here, for example, is a typical dinner menu:

  • Fresh-squeezed juice
  • Fresh-baked rolls
  • Cream of celery soup
  • Onion salad
  • Herbed snapper with linguini and peas (for meat-eaters) or curried lentils and chickpeas with peas (for vegetarians)
  • Coffee cake (literally coffee-flavored cake)

As I say, the food was great, but not in a restaurant-y sort of way. More in a “my mom is a great cook” sort of way. Some things that helped to set the food apart:

  • Most (all?) of the produce is fresh from the lodge’s own garden.
  • The poultry, eggs, and dairy products come from the local Mennonite population.
  • Dishes are tasty without being complex.
  • Portions are reasonable, not jumbo-sized American portions.
  • All the food is real food; there’s nothing artificial.

Before we left, I asked the kitchen staff if I could take their photo:

The Kitchen at Black Rock Lodge

As you can see, this looks more like your average church kitchen than a commercial kitchen. Very homey. Also before we left, a couple of the guests requested the recipes of their favorite soups. We didn’t get to try the tomato-lime soup below (it was served the day before we arrived), but we hear it’s fantastic:

Tomato-Lime Soup

2 pounds tomatoes
2 onions
2 tablespoons complete seasoning
1/4 cup lime juice
salt to taste

Wash and cut tomatoes and onions. Cook until soft. Blend. Put to boil for 10 minutes. Stir in lime juice. Serve hot.

Black Rock's Garden
The Black Rock garden

We did, however, get to try this celery soup, which is much much better than you could possible imagine:

Cream of Celery Soup

2 bunches of celery
1 big onion
1 stick of butter
1 tablespoon salt
2 tablespoons complete seasoning
3 tablespoons Italian seasoning
2 teaspoons black pepper
6 cups water
1 cup milk
1/4 cup lime juice

Wash and cut onion and celery. Sautee onion and celery with butter. Add seasoning. Add water and milk. Bring to boil until soft. When the mixture has cooled, blend. Stir in lime juice. Serve hot.

Rock Formation

On Friday afternoon, we joined Brian and Lauren and the couple from Saskatchewan (Leon and Pat) for the two-hour drive back to Belize City and the airport. Elvis (our guide for birdwatching and the nighthike) drove us to the airport.

As we started down the bumpy six-mile road to the Great Western Highway, Kris lamented that she hadn’t seen an iguana in Belize. It seemed like all of the other guests had seen one, but not us. And what did the seemingly-magical Elvis do? He slowed the van and pointed to a fence-post at the edge of the orange orchard. “There’s one,” he said.

Iguana

But he didn’t just show us one iguana. For the next six miles, he pointed them out all over the place along the side of the road: on fences, in trees, sunbathing on rocks. (And he pointed out an enormous iguana roosted in a tree above a gas station in San Ignacio.) Elvis didn’t just point out iguanas. He stopped and showed us a crocodile that lives in a pond near the Black Rock property. Plus, he and Kris spent the next two hours showing each other birds they spotted in the air and on the roadside.

As they shared their love of nature, Kris and Elvis chatted. She learned that he works 12 days at black rock, and then gets 3 days off. (Some of the other employees work 10 days on, 4 days off.) He commutes 1-1/2 hours by bus to get to work, then lives on site, then commutes home.

As we drove south of Belmopan, Elvis pointed out the brick house he built over six years next to his older wooden home. He has six children, the oldest of which is 17. He doesn’t like driving jobs (such as hauling us to the airport) as much as nature jobs (like birdwatching and nighthikes). Elvis — and all of the other folks at Black Rock — was fantastic, and we hope he gets to do plenty of nature-oriented stuff in the future. It’s in his blood.

Our flight home was uneventful but jarring. The layover in Houston seemed like we were in a foreign country. It’s amazing how in just a week you can forget the omnipresent American media (remember, I noticed the same thing after returning home from Europe in 2007), our egotism, and our obsession with fake food. (I’m very guilty with the fake food stuff, no question.)

On the flight from Houston to Portland, we were seated in front of a pair of loud, annoying women. One of them owns a dessert place here in Portland, and she drove us nuts with her self-centered inane babble. Plus, she kept kicking Kris’s seat. I won’t say which place she owns, but let’s just say I won’t be having a piece of cake there ever again. (Which is fine since I didn’t like her stuff, anyhow.)

Even as we were driving home at one in the morning, I was already thinking about where I could travel next. Mac and I will spend a week in Alaska during May. I’ll be doing Cycle Oregon in September. And then Kris and I will spend three weeks in Europe later this year. But what about next year? And the year after? I like this travel stuff, and I want to do more. Who knows where the future will take me…

Winter Vacation 2010, Day Six: Birds of Belize

One of the great things about staying at Black Rock Lodge was there was so much to explore just on the grounds themselves.

The Grounds of Black Rock Lodge

We could have hiked up the hill to see the cave, gone further to the scenic view, or climbed all the way to the top. We could have floated further down the river. We could have biked along the 6-mile gravel road that leads toward San Ignacio, looking at the birds and iguanas and, yes, the crocodile. There’s so much we didn’t do.

On our last full day in Belize, we decided to take advantage of some of the lodge activities. I’ll quote from Kris’s journal:

Thursday. Early morning bird hike with Elvis. Absolutely the best. 1-1/2 hours not very far from the lodge. Saw about 30 different species including the keel-billed toucan, national bird of Belize. Elvis was amazing at spotting the birds and locating them from their calls.

Giovanni and Elvis
Giovanni (one of the managers) with the guard dogs, and Elvis with his spotting scope.

Then a quick breakfast and off to horseback ride with Louis. We rode Romeo and Mercedes. As usual, J.D. has the pokey horse, so we end up switching. 3-1/2 hours and I am so sore at the end! Right knee, especially, but a fun ride, very challenging, with trotting and cantering at the end. Saw a flock of ~20 montezuma oropendola flying up from the canopy.

Kris and Louis Saddle Up

Kris is right that I always seem to get the pokey horse. Worse, I’m the world’s worst horseman; I have no talent for it. Romeo and I were basically immobile. Kris was sad to have to give up Mercedes, and so was Mercedes. She and I didn’t really get along, though she did actually move for me.

It took me a long time to figure out how to trot properly. For an hour or more, I just sat in there and let my ass (and other parts) slam into the saddle. It was so painful! (I eventually had to cup my private parts with my hand when we trotted.) After some tips from our guide Louis, I managed to find a position that let me trot with a little less pain. (Thank goodness!)

We made our way along the road to town, then cut through the orange grove. As we took in the sweet scent of the blossoms (seriously, one of my favorite smells ever), Louis paused to pick an orange for each of us. Then we continued on our way up into the hills.

Eventually we came to Tipu, a small Mayan ruin. Leon (from Saskatchewan) and Louis chatted about the ruins (and about horses):

Leon and Louis at Tipu

I posed in front of the gorgeous valley view (which a photo cannot do justice):

J.D. Overlooking a Vista

On our return trip, Louis stopped to ask the orchard’s caretaker if we could have some coconuts, and he agreed. Louis cut them down with his machete, hacked open an end, and gave us each one to drink. Kris loved the milk, but Leon hated it. I was somewhere inbetween.

Back at the lodge, Kris spent the afternoon roaming the grounds with the camera, photographing the birds of Belize. We’ve been saving up these bird photos all week. Rather than space them out, we’re going to give them to you all right now. Some things to note:

  • We’re very amateur photographers, and we know that.
  • Photo quality varies. In some cases, the birds were moving. In others, lighting was poor (dawn or dusk). And in many instances, the animals were far away, so we’ve had to crop tightly to get a photo of reasonable size.
  • Also, we’re amateur birders. We’ve done our best to identify these, but in some cases, we’re sure to be wrong. (And in some cases, Kris and I disagree. That’s not a King Vulture, for example, no matter what Kris says.)

So, here you are. The birds of Belize…

Let’s start by looking at this handsome fellow, the keel-billed toucan, the national bird of Belize:

Keel-billed toucan

There were tons of cattle egrets all over the place. They particularly like to hang out with the dozen horses as they roamed the grounds of the lodge:

Cattle egrets

On our early morning bird hike, another guest (Andy) loved these violaceous trogans:

Violaceous trogan  Violaceous trogan

This little gray catbird is a cutie. She gets her name because she purportedly makes a noise like a cat, though it’s not like any cat I’ve ever heard:

Gray catbird

Here are two birds with American names, the Baltimore oriole and the Kentucky warbler:

Baltimore oriole  Kentucky warbler

And here are two woodcreepers, the ivory-billed woodcreeper and the olivaceous woodcreeper (which is small, and photographed from a distance in dim light):

Ivory-billed woodcreeper  Olivaceous woodcreeper

From woodcreepers to woodpeckers — here are the black-cheeked woodpecker and the pale-billed woodpecker:

black-cheeked woodpecker  pale-billed woodpecker

There were so many hummingbirds around the lodge. We photographed tons, but most of the photos didn’t turn out, as you can imagine. This white-necked jacobin is quite nice, though:

white-necked jacobin

Kris likes hawks, so was quite pleased to see this juvenile black hawk hanging around the lodge:

juvenile black hawk  juvenile black hawk

On our early morning bird-watching expedition, Elvis spotted this white-crowned parrot peeking out of his nest. We’re not sure how he saw it since it looks like just a nub on a tree. (Actually, Elvis has done this so often, that he knows where the birds live, so he probably knew to look here.) Eventually, this little guy came out for a snack.

white-crowned parrot in nest  white-crowned parrot

Here’s a blue-crowned motmot and a cinnamon becard (no relation to the jean-luc picard):

blue-crowned motmot  cinnamon becard

Here’s a bird we could not identify:

Unidentified bird of Belize

There were lots of yellow birds in the jungle, including the kiskadee and the white-collared manakin:

Kiskadee  white-collared manakin

At Tikal (in Guatemala), we saw a couple of birds we didn’t see in Belize, including the ocellated turkey (which is sort of iridescent blue and green) and the unidentified bird on the right:

Ocellated Turkey  unidentified bird at Tikal

Also at Tikal, we saw Kris’s favorite bird: the montezuma oropendola. While riding horses, we saw an entire flock of them moving through the jungle canopy. They’re beautiful. So beautiful that I’m including two photos (neither of which do them justice):

montezuma oropendula

montezuma oropendula

Here are two vultures: The common turkey vulture we see in Oregon, and another one that Kris is calling a King Vulture, but which I think is something else:

Turkey Vulture  Vulture

Here are two tanagers. The first is a yellow-winged tanager hanging out at the lodge’s compost pile. The second is a beautiful crimson-collared tanager.

yellow-winged tanager  crimson-collared tanager

And, finally, my favorites: The collared aracari from the lodge. They flew in every morning and afternoon to have a snack at the banana trees. They’re beautiful:

Collared Aracari

Collared Aracari

We saw lots more birds than just these, and took more photos than I’ve shared. Kris is sure to be cranky that these are the only birds I’ve posted, but not everyone is as into birds as she is. (As she left for work today, she paused at the doorway. She was doing something with the jays — I’m not sure what. “I’m trying to train them,” she said. I didn’t ask in what way, but don’t be surprised if the next time you see her, Kris is followed by a flock of scrub jays.)

“Was it worth it?” Kris asked at the end of our trip.

“What do you mean?” I said.

“The five months of writing? The book? Was all of that a fair trade for one week in Belize?” We used my advance on royalties to fund this trip.

“No,” I said. “It’s not a trade I’d make again. But if the book earns back the advance, it might be worth it. Besides, that’s not how I look at it. The book is one thing, and Belize is another. They both have their goods and their bads. I’m glad I did both.”

Kris and J.D. on Horseback

Tune in tomorrow for one last look at Belize, including a look at the lodge’s kitchen (and a couple of soup recipes)!