Bali Treetops

Bali Treetop Adventure Park is an amazing way to enjoy some family fun. Located in the Bali Botanical Garden, the park is ideal for a fun day trip up country from the beach.

Rain

Only two years ago,
wind whipped Stavanger,
west coast wet Norway-
was the norm.

Rain sideways,
rain always-
graveyard of inside out
umbrellas.

There was no bad weather
just bad clothing.
And really bad weather.

To dry out, we moved to
perpetual sun,
the Dubai heat-

glowing, baking in
dry heat summer madness,

basking in winter sunny perfection.

After 18 months of desert dry,
we arrived in tropical Singapore
to visit friends from Norway, Saudi Arabia,
Maui and college.

A timeline of our lives congregated in
Sing a pour.

Wet.
Rain.
Puddles and rivulets,
brown mud water
rolling down curbs, trenches and roads.

The rain floods my mind.

Gray skies seem familiar
and cozy,
wet feet in the tropics,
cooling-

perfect shaped umbrellas
deflect-
as we drift through temples,
float past noodles
and meander through Singapore decked halls of
blue Christmas lights,
twinkling down
Orchard Road in the drizzle
mist cloud.

Wash away the desert dust,
drum the soothing beat,
rain down big pearl necklace
drops-

In rain we remember
and in rain we wander
through the puddles
of our past.

 Terry with pulled pork sandwich.

 Terry has been making "the dip" since UB days in the late 80's!

 The Crew! Chris, Terry, Cindy, Jill, Doug, Maya, Crystal (behind couch)

Bella, Rosie, Alexa, Malcolm, Emily, Oscar (on couch)

 Hiking in the mist. Chris, Cindy and I pose at the summit.

 Singapore street decor hanging in EVERY tree.

 Jill, Crystal, Bella and Rosie "strike a pose" with some artsy "friends."

 Elephants, lights and my kids.

 Noodles and Tiger at the Hakka stands

Taoist Temple

Movember 2011

Movember is prostate cancer awareness. It is a reminder that if detected early, there is great chance this cancer can beaten. To raise awareness and often donations, men around the world grow mustaches for the month of November.

Here is a compilation of my 30 "mo" days. Not my best look but good fun for a good cause.

Happy Nines (Bell-ated Birthday)

Bella turned 9.

We danced in her room

and jumped on her bed-

we hugged and tickled

and kissed her on the head.

It was wake up time,

when Bella turned 9.

Choco-swirled batter

became sweet gooey brownies,

the normal morning squabbles

became upside down frownies-

And a turtle named Shelly arrived,

when Bella turned 9.

We talked and we looked

at all the birthdays past,

we searched through old photos

fun filled memories unsurpassed,

The party had a cooking theme

when Bella turned 9.

Aprons spread with color

plates done up right,

Visiting the fruit market,

The veggie towers were a sight,

We made pizzas while blind-

when Bella turned 9.

My little girl was hard to find

when Bella turned 9.

The day grew long-

a future story did unfold,

and I said goodbye

to my eight year-old,

when Bella turned 9.

My 42 Haiku

We celebrated 

our birthdays with overdue 

visits from old friends.

Teppanyaki fry

rice, chicken, beef mix of life

sizzle stain hot meal-

Abqaiq rolled back in.

Smoke fog hazed the entire scene

Candles were blown out.

Ring in the back pain

rejoice in the "I used to" 

on to 43.

Rosie Turns 11

The sand covered my world-
our patio turned into a cement desert.
Hose it- sweep it- clean it; but the sands
of time
return.

My table, an hourglass with years
marked in grains.
Radiohead blaring from 1997: "in an interstellar burst-
I am back to save the universe,"
my wrench in one hand
and my assembly directions spread across the
sandy table.

11 steps to trampoline assembly,
the perfect birthday gift.
11 years of Rosie.

Born into the sands of Saudi,
"an airbag saved my life!"

Jump high and free
and fly in perfect
kid body and mind-
a last celebration before
puberty.

My dearest Rosie has made 11 trips
around the sun and

my sand piles higher upon the table...

Ten Years On

Ten years ago, we lived in Saudi Arabia.
Ten years later, we are happily back on the Arabian Peninsula.


September 11, 2001

The bubble burst on Abqaiq's scene in the afternoon.
Satellite TV pumped CNN's horrifying images
into my living room
at the end of a normal school day.

Except normal was on fire and about to get worse.

At the time, our normality meant teaching in a foreign land-
bedouins, camels, sand.
Arabic prayer calls, flat bread,
Irish golfing buddies
and the best teaching job I'll ever have.

Motivated multi-cultural students.
More computers than students.
Two parent families.
Third culture, empathetic kids.
Community, harmony- sun and sand.
Abqaiq, Saudi Mayberry Arabia.

All in flames.

Throughout August, Rosie's
10 month-old legs had worked
overtime.
She would circle the
coffee table.
Round and round she shuffled
while holding onto the
table.
She yearned for more:

To let
go.

As I arrived home,
Our teary eyed nanny, Linda, said:
"Sir. Please watch. Watch!"

Loud pictures.

My hometown was under attack.
Mesmerized and horrified,
we watched the second plane.

My mother went off in my head with one of her oft repeated lines:
"We all remember that moment when President Kennedy was shot.
Everyone who lived through it remembers exactly where they were that day."

Transfixed and crying,
I watched the World Trade Center
crumble (terrorists GET symbolism)

Tita Linda held my hand while
my mother dialed the phone half a
world away.

My mother "enlarges the circle greatly" but
she is unable to reach
her son in the
Kingdom.
The country's phone lines are unavailable
to the outside world.
"We're tapping phone lines,
I know that ain't allowed."

Why? How? What now?


Rosie walked

across
the living room floor
to her shattered Dad.


My mother was indeed right.
I'll always remember where I was the day
Rosie took her first steps.
The day our little girl
walked us out of the sand
and back
home.

I Amsterdam

Solo Trip to Amsterdam [shadows of self]

I walked through the canals

and journeyed between the row houses-

seeing myself at every turn.

As I walked around my city,

one long jaunt back through time,

I trekked

through past visits

and met

me.

I was the man with the baby
on the bicycle,
my wide-eyed grinning daughters-
with their handlebar clinging, manic laughter
ringing through my ears.

I snuck up on me at Vondelpark,

the couple in their 20's, before kids,

holding hands and strolling.

I saw my somber face emerging from the Anne Frank house,

forever changed by the empathy walk through 

the attic.

I was the drunken dancers at the concert-

my moves fluid and steady in my mind-

yet disjointed and flailing on the

dance floor. 

Wandering the ever widening spoke,

I saw me as

I priced the pharmacy-

Dads buying bandaids and

a young man with a pregnancy test in hand.

Pieces of my former lives

shined on corners like

shimmering hope reflecting

 back at me.

I studied the father explaining the art

at the Van Gogh museum,

hearing my own explanation

of brush strokes

and a tortured soul

poured onto the canvas.

On the way out of town,

training to Schiphol-

the family playing cards was

my unending Uno marathons with Rosie and Bella-

cleverly holding a last wild card,

plotting my win just before arrival.

I walked the canals

of my life-

drifting through time,

collecting the pictures

and memories.

I amsterdam

Lebanon Summer Trip, chapter 8: Tyre and Sidon

On our last day in Lebanon, we traveled south to the city of Sur (which in ancient times was Tyre) and to the city of Sidon. Both of these places have amazing artifacts and long histories, dating back over 6,000 years!

Lebanon Summer Trip, chapter 7: Faqra

Up the mountain, not far from where we stayed in Ballouneh, we journeyed to Faqra to see more Roman ruins and some Phoenician artifacts as well.

On the drive, we saw a natural bridge called Jisr al-Hajar

The arch of the natural bridge spans thirty eight meters!

The Roman ruins at Faqra

Like most of the ruins we encountered in Lebanon, the Roman ruins at Faqra were built atop a Greek temple which was built on the site of a Phoenician sacred place. The Greeks chose the site to keep the traditional location for the conquered Phoenicians, but built larger, more elaborate structures to show the Greek Gods' power. The Romans then restored and elaborated upon the Greek work at the site, leaving their architecture as the newest and best preserved.

Jill at the entrance

Some columns that supported the Roman pyramidal roof

Sun-soaked columns

The view from inside the temple

Some restoration keeps these columns from crumbling further

The size of the temple would have made it visible from all directions in ancient times

Standing tall as columns

Broken columns allow analysis into their construction

The site is on a peak overlooking a valley,

 so it is not surprising the site was regarded as sacred.

 In the temple

Standing on history

Jill at the entrance to a mausoleum

Burial site

On top of the mausoleum