Thursday

The Old Capitol - Antigua



   Antigua was all cobble stone and columns, steeples, church bells and raw weathered history. Juwels was going -Click-Click- crazy. We literally couldn't walk ten squares in the sidewalk, before I'd realize I lost her mid-sentence, like, "Where do you wanna to eat .. I read about this one place that-" And I'd turn around to find her frozen in front of a patch of exposed red brick or some giant set of wood doors.




   Keep in mind that this was also our first few steps on Guatemalan soil aside from stepping into the ragged airport shuttle and then up the stairs to our room in Guatemala City, so I was still a little jumpy and overcautious. (none of which was necessary, btw) On more than a few occasions, I was sure we were being followed. 

   "Are those the guys we saw back at the market?" I'd ask, noticing that they were coincidentally on the same foot path as us.

   Juwels would pretend not to know what I was talking about. "What guys?"

   I'd stop to "tie my shoes", and they'd pass by. Then I'd eye them for any physical signs of uncertainty or calculation. "Let's go into this shop," I'd say, quickly ducking into a random leathersmith's store or something.

   In fact, this same method landed me into the overly perfumed waiting room of a tiny salon while Juwels got her legs waxed. We'd just gone to the bank of all places, and when we walked back out onto the street, I felt like I was on a hidden camera show.

   As luck or irony would have it, the bank was in the town square, kitty-corner with the central park where hoards of people congregated. The shoe shine boys, the old blind man, the albino Guatemalan peddler with a baby tied to her back - all could be informants and co-conspirators ... (Friendly Note: Don't worry, I didn't spend the whole trip in a primal Fight/Flight complex. And I think in some strange and theatrical way, my subconscious loves these twisted amplifications on ordinary life.)




   "Let's go down this way." I said as we came off the bank steps.

   "But," Juwles tugged away, "I wanted to take some pictures of the fountain in the park."

   "Mmmmmm... too crowded." I said. "I want to see the city, let's go explore down this way," I pointed down an empty street which trailed off to nowhere in particular.

    Juwles took my arm and we strolled along at a more than leisurely pace. I'd turn and twist this way and that, discretely peeking over my shoulder until we were completely lost.




   "Oh, there's a salon," Juwels said. "Maybe I'll check them out after dinner and see what they offer..."

   "Might as well take a look now," I said, wanting to escape down the rabbit hole for a few.

   "This place is so cheap - look at the price on waxing." She said.

    It was marked in Guatemalan Quetzals, and my brain balked at the idea of doing the conversion. "Let's go in and see if they have an opening," I said.

    "Really?"

    "Yeah - we're here, right? Might as well before we go down to the lake."

   "What are you going to do?"

   "I'll just hang out and read the Lonely Planet .. I think I could use a refresher on the dangers and annoyances section for Antigua." I smiled.

    She looked down her nose at me.

    "I'm just kidding .." I lied.





   And before I knew it, there I was, on the other side of a colorful hand woven curtain, chatting with Juwels in between intervals of tearing sounds like Velcro, laughter, and hissed phrases in spanish that sounded strangely erotic to my untrained gringo ear. 

   It took me the better part of a half hour to muster up the courage to ask if they had a bathroom, and when they referred me to some back-alley location between the buildings that I'd need a key to enter, I quickly settled back into my telescoping salon chair and buried my nose in the book.




    We caught a chariot-style motorcycle taxi back to the hotel where I offloaded the rest of the 2000 Q (about $200) we'd withdrawn from the bank. I stuffed it into the box spring through a slit in the fabric which no doubt had been opened by another savvy traveler. 

   Afterwards, I negotiated the community showers down the hall .. which turned out like a game of musical chairs as I'd grab my Doctor Bronners soap and slink over to the next stall when mine went cold, or the shower head broke off onto the ground or my eye would spy a giant spider circling the drain. Luckily I was the only one in there, and like Goldilocks, I finally found the one that was "just right" ... well, for a while.

   After a couple Papaya smoothies in the courtyard of our place .. and a wee cat nap, we were all charged up to take in the show : )




  The front yard was never invented in Antigua. It's interesting because I was just having a discussion with my brother saying that front yards (at least in his neighborhood) seemed like a waste of space, and if that same land was added to the backyard, you could do so much more with it. Well, Antigua is a prime example of what happens if the walls and gates are built out to the sidewalk. It can feel a bit claustrophobic and cold with all the bared up windows and latched doors with heavy iron knockers, but there's also an element of mystery, knowing that many of those doors open up to tropical courtyards, fountains, and hanging fruit.




   Here are a few little buddies we found in the courtyard of our hotel. This guy with his nose in the air, was not very fond of having his picture taken, and if the openings in the metal mesh were any larger, he would have eaten our zoom lens for breakfast. Oh he tried.









    This was a circus squirrel. He loved to do back flips for the camera ... but as you can see in the last photo, I think he expected some kind of gratuity .. whoops, sorry buddy.




   Love this new little camera we picked up (the Nikon Coolpix S9100). 

   This tiny car was actually moving through the shot, and it came out nice and clear! 




   The clay roof tiles on these buildings were little gardens in and of themselves .. after years of dust and dirt packed into the ridges where rain water flows, undigested seeds dropped by birds begat sprouting weeds, flowers and vines : )  





   They call these 'chicken buses' .. they're retired US school buses that somehow find their way down here and undergo super-bling makeovers with chrome and grills and shnazy paint jobs. They may look fun, and we even talked to a few travelers who'd taken them at length (they're cheaper than small shuttles, and many travelers find themselves obsessed with doing everything the cheapest way possible..) but we were warned to steer clear of these party wagons - for one, they get insanely crowed to the point where one might have to stand for six hours through the winding hillsides. They're also prone to breakdowns and frequently held up by roadside banditos with big guns .. so we chose the private shuttles for the extra 5 bucks ; ) Money well spent.    




Pure Norman Rockwell right here -
everyone's eating ice cream in the warmth of the day. 



Women carried these baskets on their heads all over the place, up and down stairs, through traffic, it was amazing to see the balance and strength they had.









   When we came back through Antigua on our way out to the airpot, the right side of the waterworks was clogged up, and Juwels said, "Glad I got my picture last time !!" This fountain was the centerpiece of the Central Park. Blackbirds bathed and drank in the top tier of this splash pad ; )   





   The exposed red brick in this facade was beautiful .. we'll have to start a Flicker page, so we can post these bigger to show all the fine details. 








   Looking at these last two buildings, it almost seems like they're before and after shots. This city has roots all the way back to the mid 1500's, and destructive uprising after earthquake after uprising, it's a wonder there's still anything left of the old world for us to look at.  






   Overall, it was a walk through a living museum. A bit of a sensory overload, like a visual all-you-can-eat buffet of color and texture and taste. Our next destination was tucked away in the verdant hills - a giant volcanic crater full of blue water and lined with tropical villages. We'd set our sights for San Marcos, the little meditation, yoga, raw food community where we'd kick off our shoes and let down our guard. 

   Just wait ; ) 

  Thanks for reading, love, 

 -p&j   

 ---- you can read the next installment {Here} 


Sunday

first night's journal - Guatemala City

   ** This is the first in a few posts that we're going to do about our recent travels to Guatemala - it's just an entry that I scribbled into my journal the first night we touched down in the big bad city. Once we reached our paradise locations, my drive to hide away in my notebook dwindled a bit for the cobble stone streets of the old capital or the gardens, hikes and swim spots of the lake.  



   We arrived in Guatemala City about 20 minutes ahead of schedule. Flying past the Arizona state line happened in a blink. We'd just frowned away the carted cups of Coke and bagged peanuts when the pilot came in with the BING-BONG announcement ping telling us that if we looked out the window, we'd see a sliver of New Mexico going by.

   On the next flight from Texas to Guatemala City, I noticed this sultry scent of dog's breath filling the plane, and then the dinner cart came squeaking along from the rear. Juwels was asleep (she never gets any sleep the night before a trip - filling the hours by checking off toiletries, swim suits, and all sorts of other things that I didn't even know we owned.)

  "Cheeseburger." the stewardess said. "Cheeseburger. Cheeseburger. Cheeseburger."

   She wasn't so much asking as she was just telling what it was. "Cheeseburger," she'd say, handing the microwaved bag of bun and beef into the hands of one passenger after the next. The burgers were all balancing on the top of the cart in a shaky pile, and beads of moisture stuck to the inside of the overinflated bags like the the fogged up windows of an old Chevy on Lovers Lane.

    The other passengers looked bemused as they accepted what could come to be their last meal.

    "Cheeseburger," she came to me, extending a bag in my direction but already fumbling around to reload with another. I may have been the only one on the plane that refused (thank God I ate on our layover..) I eyed deeper into the cart where the trays of fixn's were ... "Can I just get -"

    "You just want the salad?" She guessed, reaching for the clam shell container of iceberg lettuce, slice of onion and packet of ketchup.

    "Actually, the cookies," I said, pointing at the travel sized pouches of Millanos.

    "Anything for her?" She pointed at Juwels.

     I just smiled and shook my head.

    "Cheeseburger ...  Cheeseburger." She was gone.

    Juwels awoke just as I was finishing my cookies. "What's that smell?" She asked.

    "Cheeseburger." I said.

    "Did they bring the vegetarian meals out? They normally bring those out first."

     I laughed.

     "What?"
 
     "I don't think there's any vegetarian meals on this flight." I said.

     "I ordered the dairy-free vegetarian meal when I booked the tickets."

      She repeated this a couple times, and I don't know why, but in her newly awoken haze, with the imprint of her sweater on her right cheek and this air of disbelief about her, I just found it totally cute and entertaining.

      "Cheeseburger," I smiled.

      She huffed and snuggled back into my shoulder. "Welcome to Guatemala," I said.  

 

 ************************************


   We arrived in Guatemala City about 20 minutes ahead of schedule. Normally, this would be a good thing, but to someone who had stupidly read the US Crime Statistics Ledger on Guatemala the night before departing, my head was abuzz with less than tasteful scenarios of how our night might end up. During my light nightly reading about rape, murder, robbery and kidnapping, there seemed to be quite a few lines dedicated to problems near the airport, at night, to travelers ...

   "Don't become a target by milling around outside the airport. Know your destination, and arrange a pickup in advance."

    We'd booked a hostel online, and the person I was talking with assured us that they'd send someone to pick us up ... but as we walked through the empty airport towards the luggage pickup, I wondered if our driver would know we were early. We had decided before we left where we'd stash our money, but as the smell of diesel exhaust and musty carpet filled my lungs, I started to feel like the red letters A.T.M. were blinking across my forehead or like some kind of human easter egg hunt.

    "Should I stash some in my bra?" Juwels asked.

    I shrugged - the general implications of it made me even more uneasy. The combination of dirty money, fear and private places was unsettling at best.

    We hadn't checked any luggage, so I instinctively headed straight towards the customs checkpoint and the door, but then Juwels stopped me, "Shouldn't we hang out in here for a few minutes, so our driver can get here?"

    I nodded.

    Around the baggage roundabout, there was an odd collection of people waiting. Smiling westerners with grey hair, single women, and a large group of American students of maybe 16 or 17 years old, and I started to feel like my overcautious thoughts were unnecessary.

    Juwels struck up a conversation with one of the directors of the group of students. They were from Michigan and were in Guatemala volunteering for two weeks. As one of the bags came off of the belt, the woman sighed and said, "Okay - glad to see that this one's not lost! This bag has all the medication for the students. It could've made for a real interesting trip if we lost this..." I asked if she had any travel advice for first timers, and she said to keep our money in different places and said that she told the kids not to bring anything that they weren't okay losing.

   Out on the curb there was a lot less going on than I was used to seeing at airports. A couple of guards stood around, and a few feet away, behind steal gates, there were a bunch of cab drivers hooting and hollering and family members patiently waiting. I saw a guy with a handmade sign with the name of our hostel on it and pointed him out to Juwels. He waved us over, and we came around the gate. He introduced us to a very old German lady who he was bringing to the same place. He took her bags, and then we all followed him out into the covered parking. I don't know why I was envisioning a van or shuttle of some sort with the hotel logo on it, but I paused a half second when I saw him pop the trunk of a beat up old green four door with a cracked windshield and taped up tail light. His trunk was clean and empty, but I still felt a little odd placing our bags inside.

   Out of respect for our elders, we let the little old lady ride up front, but as we pulled out of the lot into the night, I wondered if that was such a great idea. The guy's tint was real dark in the back, so you couldn't really see who was inside, but up front it was a lighter tint, and the lady's grey hair and white skin seemed to glow like a luminescent target. We're gonna get plucked, I thought.

   The city was eerily quiet, and the street lamps, few and far between, cast a dim orange light. How far is 900 meters, I wondered. I know a meter is about 3 feet, but what does any of that feel like in a car? I was basically just trying to tick off the distance in my head, so I'd know roughly when we'd gone too far, and at what point I should whisper to Juwels that she should barrel roll out her door and I out mine ; )

   (Never too cautious ... Juwels loves to tell the story of when we were leaving Thailand, and I got what I thought was a cockeyed glance from our cab driver who had just showed up to take us to the airport. So as he picked up our bags from the hotel cafe, I loaded a napkin with a little pile of sea salt with the idea that I could reach around and hocus pocus a palm of salt in his eyes if he veered us down the figurative dark alley.  ** In my defense, I had just read something in Lonely Planet about "taxi mafias" and we had met this cabbie in a less than professional way (he was holding a cardboard sign on the edge of a crowded market that read "Taxi", and once I saw his car, it was clear that he wasn't a real cab driver ..)

   Winding through Guatemala City, my eyes darted ahead to a motorcycle abandoned by the side of the road with its headlight still aglow. As we got closer, I saw a well dressed man farther off on the dirt watering the plants with his salty nitrates. Another turn, another twist and bend, and street after street I scanned ahead for the hotel sign .. or any sign of life at all. And then we reached a blockade. It was guarded by just one man, but a sinister man he was. From my side of the car I could only see his dark pants, long sleeve cloaked arms and the black shot gun that hung from a strap and doubled as an armrest. Were we being driven into Scarface's compound, I wondered?

   Later Juwels told me that he was wearing a full coverage ski mask with only his eyes showing. The guard lifted the gate and let us through. After just two more streets, we headed down the long last street to our hotel ... of course I didn't know that was our street, but what I did immediately see was two men walking the empty blacktop in our direction. The driver started to roll his window down a sliver as we approached, and he stuck just the tips of his fingers out of the opening and waved as we passed them by.

   "There's our place!" Juwels said, somehow noticing the sign on the dark wall.

    The wall was decorated in the Guatemala-City-standard stretched bail of razor wire which also doubled as a trellis for beautiful sleeping orchids and vines. I stepped on a giant overripe avocado in the gutter as I exited the car, and seeing a few more of them scattered on the sidewalk beckoned my eyes skyward where I saw a wise old tree with many more round reptilian-like fruit hanging like bats in the moonlight. Remembering the men on the street, I spun around but found that they had vanished completely.

   The cab driver jumped out and opened the large steal door which let into the courtyard of the hostel. Inside there were lights and people, lush tropical plants and a loosely strung hammock. The car's trunk popped open, and the driver urged us into the hostel saying that he would get the bags. We smiled and nodded, but went back and got our bags out anyway. Rule number one: keep your eye on the prize.

   We spent the rest of the night cloistered away in our little private room. We hadn't seen each other in 4 days because I'd caught a ride down south to see the rest of my tribe before meeting Juwels at the airport. The brightly painted walls and soft bed were a welcome break from the dark, crude city and the cramped airplanes. Juwels unpacked a spare set of sheets that she'd brought from home, dressed the bed, and then she showed me all the nuts and berries and health food snacks that she'd smuggled into the country to keep her alive while I'd spoon beans and bread and huevos rancheros into my gully.

   This was our one and only night in the City, and the next day we headed to the old capital, Antigua, which was beautiful and romantic and full of life. I did a lot less journaling in the following days, but Juwels took magnificent pictures, so you'll have those to look forward to in the next couple of posts : )

 LOve, love,

 -p&j

  ----- Here's the next stop on the {Map} 

Wednesday

going skiing today

Haven't skied since I was about 11 ... Juwels will be snowboarding - and of course she's good at it ; )

  But I just watched this instructional video (below .. you'll have to click to the blog to see it ) so I think I should be good ; )


    ... yes, I'm serious : )

Wish me luck !!

  -p&j



********************************************************

 back at the Winnie now - all showered up with aches and pains from the day and just thought we'd do a little follow up : )

 enjoy !!




YoHoHo : )

  Just got back from the mountain .. Although Juwels kept babying around next to me on her snowboard like a jeering mother running alongside her little tike without the training wheels for the first time. "You're doing soOooo good baby! Wow! Look at you!!" I'd still have to say that I'm on par with Goofy .. but at least he got into some interesting terrain.

   First thing in the morning, in the parking lot at the top of the mountain Juwels was rebuilding her snowboard on the tailgate of the truck, and a young guy with diamond earrings and some of those brand new jeans with the fake fade walked over to us and said, "Hey - do you want to buy some tickets to the mountain?" He went though his story of how he got free vouchers the day before because he had taken a spill on his very first run, and the ski patrol had told him that they thought he might have broken his back. "I wouldn't have gone to the hospital .. but those guys had me so freaked out saying that I could go paralyzed if I tried to walk.." This wasn't exactly the story that I wanted nested into the folds of my brain at 9am my first day back on the snow since I was 11 years old. Then his friend chimed in from over by their car saying, "Yeah, remember I got a free pass last season when I dislocated my shoulder." I shuttered a little .. I have big problems with my shoulder. We checked to see that the vouchers were real and then bought them for a nice discount : ) And on the walk to the rental house, I saw a girl hobbling around on crutches outside a SUV .. If I was a war vet, now would be a great time to start having flashbacks and shell shock.

   I fell a minimum of 7 or 8 times within 40 feet of exiting the chair lift for the first time ... and on the lift itself I spaced out for a second too long and had to literally lunge off the seat in mid air and catch the exit ramp from about half way down. Then, as you might guess, I tangled up in a laughing pretzel. I will note that I'm sure it was good for Juwels to see me in this vulnerable and mostly helpless state. Nothing helps keep the old ego in check like being picked on by gravity : )

    Juwels was the Road Runner to my Bambi on ice, but I did eventually get the hang of it, well, if you just edited out the bloopers. I don't know how many times I dug my detached skies out of the deep snow (luckily they automatically come off when you fall or twist hard enough). I had snow packed in my ears, I lightly hit a tree (I blame Juwels for this one through), and the whole experience seemed to be a series of willingly carting myself to the top of a steep mountain and then desperately trying to slow. This wasn't easy on razor sharp feet that have magically grown to an unmanageable six feet long.  

   The highlight though, on one of the runs that I insisted Juwels spread her wings and fly down to the bottom without me dragging along, I spun out, flipped over and continued to slide down the hill like a turtle on its back. Somehow my skis were still on my feet, spinning around like the blades of a helicopter against the blue sky, and that's when I noticed a girl who had fallen on her snowboard sitting directly in my path. Bad, Kill-Bill-type thoughts partially went through my head along with possible first words and apologies that I might blurt as we connected. I tried to gauge how fast I was actually going while measuring the distance between us, but I'm no good at math, so I just gave a final back bend and lurch at the last minute. My skis went over the back of her head, and I dug into the snow right beside her in a cloud of white powder.

    "Are you okay?" she asked.

    "Yeah - I think I'm just a little too tired at this point. My body's like, '''we're -still- doing this??!!"'

     "I'm the same way..."

    On the labored rest of the run down, (which I surprisingly made without crashing) I decided that I better hang up the ol' hamstrings for the night.

    This might sound like a bad time to some, but we've been in the slow dance of candle making for so many hours since last April that I found some kind of sick pleasure in reminding my body that we're not out of the woods yet, and that one must find a balance or crash.

 night night,

 -p&j

Tuesday

valentines day candle giveaway


alOha Lovers of life 


Today we're doing a giveaway 


But you'll have to travel a bit to enter 


Jump on over to our dear friend's em & tim's blog @ Today's Letters 
and just comment for a chance to win : ) 


love, love,

 -p&j

Monday

siete años de amor

¡Hola amigos!

So, we've been out in the Guatemalan jungle for the past two weeks (still here now - writing from a tiny internet cafe) and although the idea of posting real-time blogs from the trip seemed exciting, I guess it fell distant second to actually being present and living every moment.  

Speaking of spending each splendid day in appreciation of what it is ... today is our SEVEN year anniversary!! Not our 7-7-07 tying of the knot, but the day our relationship began ... an even more special and serendipitous day in our minds ; )



(the San Pedro volcano .. one of a few on this beautiful lake ; )

We have some nice pics to share once we're back in the states and bundled up in our little snow castle, but for now ... we're off to the nature reserve on the edge of this jungle village to sun our hides on a dock they call the "trampolin" (pictured below) ... and yes, they intend for you to jump off it ... but not so much from the top of the railing - whoops ; )


adios, amor, amor,

-p&j





weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!



Tuesday

We're Flying !!



  .... by the time most of you read this, we'll already be in the clouds. We planned to post a few net-cafe blogs from the road, but first, we'll have to figure out all the buttons on this new camera ...

  wish us luck ; )

  love, LOve,

 -p&j

Thursday

Winnie in a Winter Wonderland !!

 
   Here's the Winnie in her brand new winter parking spot. After living in the forest for a while, the Winnie urged us to get her out of the trees right around the same time that dark clouds and buckets of rain were starting to muddy the exit road to the sinking point. We're now parked on the edge of a large ranch with full hookups, but the winter has kept us on our toes ..




   Seeing the changing of the seasons is exciting, but it's also ... really. Cold. When we got into town, it was warm and sunny - much like California. We rumbled down an old forest road lined with bright yellow flowers and enjoyed the warm nights and clear skies. 

   The chipmunks and squirrels were busy hustling for their harvest and securing their winter savings, and so were we. In fact, we were so busy setting up our new studio and pouring candles day and night that we forgot that we had some nest feathering of our own to do ... 



   Living in a motor home in the snow is possible ... but it does take some "winterizing". I remember waking up in bed and yawning out a thick foggy cloud. "I can see my breath." The first night it hit freezing, our copper pipes, which are supposed to be lined with electric heat tape and foam insulation, froze and burst ... We didn't realize this until returning home late from work and flipping on the water pump to take a shower ... and ... "Why is there water squirting out of the floor??!!"

   The freezing air affected all sorts of things - both tanks, the one that collects all the water from the sink and shower, and the other one right below the toilet, also froze solid. Charming, right : ) Without being able to dump the sewage, it was only a matter of time before we reached the brimming point, and then ...

   Hot showers are now heated on the gas stove, and since the drain pipes are frozen, the only way you can take another shower is to chip the icy sheet of last night's water out of the shower pan, throw it out the window, and boil up another : ) A good heater could have solved all of this, but we pulled our nonworking heater out of the Winnie long ago in CA ... "What would we need a heater for ??" Ha!

    Good times : )

   Out of curiosity, we brought our wax thermometer home because we were wondering what the temperature was under the covers. The thermometer is meant for cooking, so once it hits 32 degrees (the freezing point) it just malfunctions and says "Low". 



   We were most interested in how warm the two of us made it under there, but as a basis of comparison, we slid the metal probe under the sheets before we crawled up into bed.

   The digital screen plummeted through the 30's and then "Low". We both looked at each other. "It's below freezing under the covers??" I crawled up first .. Juwels was fiddling with something, such is the case most nights. I'm convinced she does this just to get me up there to cut the chill back before she nestles in. Which is funny because she always jumbles the sheets around so much that my little heat pocket floats out and crystallizes in mid air.



   I am happy to report, though, that once we were all settled in under the covers, the thermometer spiked drastically. Within seconds we were climbing through the 30's, 40's, and before a minute or so went by ... we were back in California, in the toasty 70's ... well, from the neck down that is : ) 

   Since the holidays, our workload has slowed a tad, and we've been able to pay a little attention to Miss Winnie. Recently, we spent a night padding all the windows with some classy silver insulation and running the oven packed with chestnuts and squash : ) 

   Juwels likes to spark an inferno of candles on the counter and up on the ledge next to the bed. "These little guys put off some heat !!" After spending many frigid nights putting work before comfort, we finally started experimenting with different kinds of heaters - gas heaters burn up oxygen and emit toxins, (not good in such a tight space .. getting sleeepy .. ) and electric heaters cost a fortune to run and don't do that good of a job ... and even though we've been over and over the romantic idea of installing a little potbelly wood burning stove .. Juwels still whimpers at the conclusion that it's probably not the best idea in our little foam box. "But it would smell soOOooo heavenly! "   

   We have a good sense of humor about the challenges of the cold multiplied by the lack of time that we've had to prepare, but we're excited to soon bee spending more time away from the studio (which, by the way, has also had a broken heater for the last few months) and warming up our little Winnie in her winter wonderland : )

   Warm tea, cold feet, and .. 

  -p&j


Monday

Hunt for the Golden Egg


Over the river and through the woods ... ah mushroom hunting we go!! 


Now I've never been a big lover of mushrooms - spongey, spunky, little things that they are, but I must admit, the way Juwels cooks them up with an orchestra of texture and spice .. who can resist : ) 



We paper, rock, scissored to see who'd have to carry the baskets up the mountain - I lost ... so, I made hats of them until we started plucking.  


Seeing as though none of us are Mycologists, or woodland creatures with stomachs adapted to eating poisonous fungus, we brought along a good edible mushroom guide book. It was a strange yet beautiful place to study : )  


   This little jelly tube told us a secret. He said that one side would make us grow taller ... and the other side would make us grow shorter. Juwels asked him what he was speaking about, and guess what he said? (the first three people to guess (comment) right will get a free candle : ) If you can't figure it out .. go ask Alice... 



Most of Flagstaff is mainly covered in Ponderosa Pines, but after climbing 3000 feet above the town (a total of 10,000 feet above sea level), we felt like we were walking through the Christmas tree farm that time forgot. There were so many different types of pines and aspens and ferns. Like an enchanted forest from a dream, this was the perfect setting for our Easter egg hunt through Narnia. 


   This one's called an Earth Star mushroom. Not for the frying pan, but it's a pretty little pastry isn't it ;)


   White Chanterelle anyone ?? These babies aren't cheap - but we were given a pick-one-get-one-free special from a dear with a bright red nose.


Not sure what this one's called, but it looks like the tree stump was chewing hot pink Bubble Yum ... 



   Chicken fingers ?? 


I'll spare you the analogy on what I think this one looks like ; )  


   Looks nice, but after reading an obscure passage about something called "White Death" we respectively shied away from these great big wedding bells.


Slimy Jims : ) I found these way off the beaten path. "Look," Juwels said, "they're like me and you!"





   This was the momma we were all looking for, the King Bolete. This is the Golden Egg, and after cooking it up that night, we all knew why. Rich and nutty meaty goodness!


   I thought these looked like little wagging tongues (neener neener neeeener) or pig ears ... but I was wrong, they're actually called Witch's Butter. MmmMmmmmm .. Goes great with eye of Newt ; )



   Juwels and I only took home the ones we knew for sure were safe, but some of the more adventurous hunters (Juwels' little sis, Rosie, and her roommate) took the rest of them home and did the nibble-and-wait test on everything else. It's a long process of nibbling off a tiny piece, holding it in your mouth for a second and then quickly spitting it out. No blue lips of swollen tongue? Repeat with a larger piece and and masticate longer. After courting a foreign mushroom for long enough without turning into a giant .. or an ant, you are safe to toss it in the olive oil and sprinkle a little salt. Better them than me ... 


   Here's our smorgasbord - creeping off the trail amongst the soggy tree stumps and shady ferns brought on a mixed feeling of being 7 years old and hunting for Easter eggs combined with the urge to crawl around on all fours and scratch at the soil ... is that weird? ??