haircuts all around

Leo and I are on the same haircutting cycle.  We generally get our 'dos done on the same day, once a month.  If I look at him and his hair looks long, I can assume mine does, too, and I schedule us appointments.

Because of the Paralympic schedule, Leo actually skipped a month and really looked like a shaggy pup.  Everybody in the house loved the long hair except for me.  And since I'm the only one who would think to get the dog's hair cut, I decided I could cut it when I wanted and as short as I wanted.

Leo normally has a groomer come to the house, but he really doesn't like the groomer.  Actually I don't know if it's the groomer who's the problem; I think Leo doesn't like that there's no hot water outside for the groomer to use for the bath. Leo is a warm-water kind of guy.

And I normally go to a salon near our old house. Although I could go back there, there's no easy parking and it would be a hassle.

So I decided we'd both go to the fancy mall that's close to our new house where they have a fancy people salon and a fancy pet boutique, both of which cut hair.  Both trips were successful enough.  Thankfully I got back to pick up Leo just before they sprayed him with dog perfume.  I kid you not.

Before:

After:

(We're still working on Leo's selfie-taking skills.  He surely will have mastered that by the time we've lived in Brazil for three years.)

Hello. Hello. Is anybody out there?

It's been a long time since my last post in March.

Even though a) I know I've lost all five of my loyal readers in the last 6 months, and b) you've seen everything I've been doing on Facebook anyway and haven't missed one iota of my life, I still feel like I want to write.

The Olympics and Paralympics were a great big blur of life that I cannot even begin to comprehend.  It was such a great time to live in this amazing city.  There was a pulse, a hum of activity and energy, a positivity here, and I loved every second of it.   (Blogger doesn't like "positivity and I'm getting that wavy red line underneath it.  Isn't that real word?  If it's not, it should be.)

And then about 40 minutes after the Paralympics closed, we moved house.  Literally.  Almost 40 minutes after the Paralympics closed.

We knew this move was going to happen, but a year from now, 6 months from now, after the Olympics seems like a long time away.  Until it's not.

So the Paralympics ended on Sunday night late, and we started the move on Monday and slept in the new house on Tuesday.  Almost 40 minutes exactly.

The new house is great in many, many ways.  It's the biggest house I've ever lived in and is lovely and open and airy.  It's surrounded by green and has an orchid garden inside the house.  (an orchid garden.  Inside the house.)  The landlord left his furniture which looks like it belongs in the most comfortable yet sophisticated beach house on a white sandy beach in Florida somewhere.  There is not much to dislike about this house.

But just to get it all out in the open, I'll name a couple things that I dislike.

1.  All that green means that we have some animals around these parts.  I routinely see monkeys in the front yard trees.  And that's okay if the monkeys stay in those trees.  My big fear is that the monkeys will somehow jump through the open windows, which we leave open a good bit. (Because there are wide overhangs on the roof, the rain that has fallen nearly every.single.blessed.day since we moved in doesn't blow inside).  I do not want monkeys in the house.

2.  We had a rogue hummingbird in the house on Friday.  I had a friend over for coffee and thought I saw a shadow pass behind her in another room.  And then the shadow came back.  There's a young caretaker couple who live on the property, so I immediately called the husband and asked him to "caretake" of this hummingbird.  He captured it only after the poor bird bonked itself on one of the big glass windows.

3.  We also had a possum in the house, so I'm becoming very conscientious about wild animal intrusion.  Mac was at a sleepover on Saturday, and Jimmy and I went out for dinner for friends.  We returned home around 11pm, and Jimmy went to the kitchen to get us water for our bedside tables.  I heard him say, "uh-oh" in a loud voice after which he told me there was a possum in the pantry.  I'm sorry, what?  The pantry is like a huge closet off on the side of the kitchen and the possum was hanging out.  He must not have been there too long because he hadn't gotten into anything yet.  I went to get one of the two guards who are always at our house and said they needed to come on inside and help us wrangle up a possum.  (Just kidding.  I don't know all those words in Portuguese. It was more my screaming in Portuguese that "we have a wild animal in the kitchen"  and then gesticulating what I think are the universal charades motions for possum.)  They got a cardboard box and headed upstairs while I got Leo and headed way upstairs.  By now, the possum was behind the water filter machine, playing dead.  That was probably sort of cute.  Thankfully it was also helpful because Jimmy could push the possum-playing possum from behind the water machine and into the box that the guard was holding.  The possum really liked that game because he stayed still while they closed the box and took him outside.

So then began my worry about how this stupid animal got into the house.  As I mentioned, we leave windows (and doors) open, but on Saturday night, everything was closed up tight.  How did this animal get in?  The problem is that we don't have a back door on this house.  I know it's weird - and it's the one thing we said we'd change if this house were ours. The back steps go down into an area where the guards hang out and where this caretaker couple lives.  There's also a laundry room and a storage room and the area leads directly out into the garage.  The laundry room is basically open to the elements and we think the possum came in there, climbed over this little babygate thing that's we close at the bottom of the stairs to keep Leo outside when nobody is home, and moseyed on up to the kitchen to make himself at home.

All I can tell you is that if that possum or any of his friends come back when I'm home by myself, I will likely just close the door, walk away, and pretend I never saw it.  I cannot face a wild, feral animal in my house.

3.  There is no back door.  See item 2 above.  This is weird and I don't like it.

4.  Our new neighborhood is nice and is probably where Jimmy would choose to live if he could choose any neighborhood in Rio.  HOWEVER, the only places I can walk to here are the grocery store, a fancy pet store (that is soon going to open a coffee shop where you can sit and drink coffee with your pup, a bakery and a gas station. Oh, and the beach is a much easier and closer walk than at our last house. And it's a much prettier beach than our last beach.  Actually scratch this negative.  The grocery store and the beach are my favorite places on earth, so I'm all good on this one. (But I do miss walking down the hill to my pilates class, restaurants and shops.  Now I have to drive the car everywhere and I've already scratched the car.  It's amazing the damage that doesn't get done to a car when it just sits in the garage all day.)

5.  I think the house has a mildew issue because my very sensitive nose can smell that stuffy mildewy, moldy smell all the time here.  You know what I'm talking about, right?  Jimmy and Mac don't seem to mind it or even smell it, so I'm hoping once this interminable rain ends, I can really air things out and get the smell to go away.

With all that really negative-sounding complaining, the living is quite good and fairly easy here.  We still have our regular housekeeper and our chef so between them and this other live-in couple, we rarely lift a finger to do anything.  So I think I'll just pipe down and put my sorries in a sack, as Jimmy likes to say, and enjoy this nice spot for the 3-8 months we'll be living here.

Hope that all is well in your corner of the world.

Susan x

random musings since my last post

1. Jimmy and I went to see Lionel Richie in concert.  You can make fun if you want; it matters not to me.  All I'm saying is that if you lived your adolescence (or slightly later) in the 80s, Lionel Richie provided the soundtrack to the whole miserable existence and you know you love him for that reason alone.  What this means in practical terms is that we were on the youngish side of the audience.  To put it into perspective, the people sitting in front of us didn't take photos on their iPhone.  No, they used one of those old-school digital cameras that really nobody takes around anymore, except some old people.  It was that sort of crowd.  The sort of crowd that had to take frequent rest breaks after dancing through one song.  I have no great photos to share.  Suffice it to say that Lionel Richie is a fantastic performer who sings exactly what his audience wants to hear:  all the stuff from the Can't Slow Down album from 1983 (and yes, it was an album and not a CD) and even all the great Commodores hits.  A surprisingly fun night!

2.  Rio hosted a professional beach volleyball tournament, which I attended for several days.  There is something very cool about seeing these talented people play in what surely must be the cathedral of beach volleyball of Copacabana Beach.  Kerri Walsh Jennings and April Ross won the whole thing, which was super exciting to see.  Remember I watched them play back in September before Kerri had her shoulder surgery.  She was all taped up, serving underhand, blocking at a bare minimum, and not spiking at all.  She had surgery right after that tournament, has done rehab for months, and came out in beast mode. No tape until the end of the tournament, overhand serves, incredible blocking and spiking.... She is so inspiring to me - in her late-30s, 3 kids, and still dominating.  Uh-mazing!

At the tournament, I met the parents and husband of another American player.  The dedication of these athletes is well-documented, but let me tell you a little story about the dedication of the families behind these athletes.  The US will not announce its beach volleyball qualifiers for the Olympics until June 13.  Until then these players are playing in every tournament they can get to.  If I understood correctly, in non-Olympic years, the players play tournaments more selectively because they get points for winning and lose points for losing.  In Olympic years, however, they don't lose points for losing so they play as many tournaments as they can because they have nothing to lose but they have everything to gain if they win.  In June, the top two female teams and top two male teams (top meaning whichever teams have the most points from these qualifying tournaments) will know they're going to the Olympics, which start in early August.

Now, the families of these teams certainly can't wait until June 13 to try and secure lodging, airline tickets and tickets to the events themselves.  So this particular athlete's family, without knowing whether their daughter/wife/sister will even make the Olympics, has had to spend money as if she will make the team (and she does stand a good chance of doing so).  And when I say they've spent money, I'm not talking about a couple thousand dollars here and there.  They have rented an apartment for the entire Olympic period because they couldn't just rent for the time period during which beach volleyball will take place. That little apartment, which is neither fancy nor super convenient to where the beach volleyball will take place, set them back $27,000.  Then they had to buy beach volleyball tickets.  Now the problem with buying any tickets this far out is that you have no idea who's playing when or on what court.  So they just bought up as many beach volleyball tickets (plus Opening Ceremony tickets so they can see their daughter march in and watch me dance!).  It's all a gamble as to whether they even have tickets that will be at the right time or court to watch their daughter play.  Those tickets were a whopping $33,000.  So before airline tickets, before food and incidental expenses while in Rio for a couple weeks, before taking leave from work, they are out of pocket $60,000.  And they don't even know for sure if their daughter will be in the Olympics.  Talk about love and devotion and commitment to your nearly 30 year-old kid.

3.  I attended the "inspiring women" International Women's Day reception at the UK Consulate.  Here's me with two other "inspiring women":

Excuse the weird smile. I'd just been gobbling down this delicious cake covered with fresh fruit and was convinced I had seeds stuck in my teeth.  Happy to report I could have smiled normally. 

4. I have recently returned from a week in Maui with my mom to celebrate her upcoming 70th birthday.  I had never been to Maui before so it was wonderful to explore a new island.  Maui is much more developed than my ideal, but Hawaii never disappoints.  We had great weather (cool and a little rainy the first two days but then it was gorgeous), and we were able to enjoy a trip to Hana, a fantastic luau, whale watching, fabulous beaches, and great food.  PLUS they have a Target and outlet shops on Maui so I got to shop for some "necessities".  It was fabulous week.

Our sweet ride for the week.  Why?  Because #yolo and #gigiturns70 only once

a little hibiscus aloha love from me to you

On the road to Hana

On the road to Hana

On the road to Hana

Hula Girls

Some other Hula Girls

On the road back from Hana

 

A few hours spent at Ka'anapali Beach are a few hours well spent

Our daily afternoon rainbow out the back side of the condo

The seawall view in front of our group of condos 

a beach in the Wailea area (I think)

Mom and me overlooking Honolua Bay

Sunset direct from our condo's lanai

5.  While in Maui, I got official notification that I'm a dancer in the Opening Ceremony of the Olympics. Actually they call us Cast Members, like we work at Disney World.  Our first practice is in late May.  I've taken an oath of secrecy so I won't be able to share any details with you, but before the Ceremony, I'll let you know in which quadrant of your tv you can look for me.  I hope you have a really big-screen tv.

6.  I've started a new workout routine.  And it very likely could kill me.  Have you heard of this Instagram sensation young woman, Kayla Itsines?  She has something like 27 quadrillion followers because she posts all these "before and after" photos of people who have incredible bodies in bikinis after doing her workout.  So I have paid $54.99 (I think) for a month of the workout.  I am on day 4.  Did I mention that it could kill me?  I did legs on Sunday and still can barely walk on Wednesday.  It takes me minutes to descend our stairs.  Arms were Monday, and that workout made my abs hurt.  Cardio was yesterday and I only got to abs today, which means that if my abs were hurting from the arms workout, imagine how they're going to feel after the real abs workout.  I am going to stick with this for a month and see what my before and after photos look like.  Assuming, of course, the routine doesn't kill me first.

That is all my news at the moment.  If you don't hear from me within a month less 4 days, send someone to look for me.  I'll be on the back patio, encrusted in the salt left by my sweat, curled up in the fetal position on my yoga mat, likely with my tongue hanging out.  Cheers!

  

P.P.S. Marshmallows

I don't want to brag, but I believe I made a superior marshmallow. I don't even like marshmallows, but I can't stop eating my homemade marshmallows. I'm not sure how I'll ever go back to the jet-puffed kind. 

Using my superior product, we made the most delicious s'mores in the history of s'moredom. Our BBQ coals were nearly nonexistent, but there was enough heat to warm the marshmallows even though they never got truly toasted. All of us, except the vegetarian, enjoyed the yummy goodness of the gelatin-based marshmallows. 

(Roasting on skewers because I couldn't find my fancy extendable marshmallow roaster.)

(Mac on about his 5th s'more)

(The Leaning Tower of S'moredom - even though the marshmallow doesn't appear toasted, it was hot enough to melt the chocolate and destabilize the entire construction)

P.S. Marshmallows

One of the sleepover friends is vegetarian (which I knew and have planned meals around).

I have been informed that unless the marshmallows were made with pectin and not gelatin, he is unable to eat the marshmallows. 

More for me. 

Marshmallows

I'm not sure if they're right and they're definitely not cut uniformly, but they taste like really fresh, sweet marshmallows.  They're pretty good if I do say so myself. 

Mac has three friends sleeping over tonight so we will test out the roasting ability of these homemade marshmallows  after our BBQ tonight when we make s'mores for dessert. 

Stay tuned. 

Today

This morning I woke up refreshed at 5:40am, a full 20 minutes before Jimmy's alarm went off and a whopping 35 minutes before I actually had to get out of bed myself. 

Today was very productive. 

* I put in more than my 5 required hours of paid work.  

* I walked down the mountain (instead of taking the bus) to the grocery store and the fruit and veggie store. (I did take the bus back, but can you blame me?  It's all uphill.) 

*I got a lovely invitation to a happy hour next week to celebrate International Women's Day. Each person who attends must bring a woman who inspires her. My friend invited me because "you are an incredible consort/consulesa for the US Consulate. You have your own profession that you are fulfilling remotely from Rio, represent the US government at a vast number of events with so much enthusiasm, ease and humour, and on top of all that you are a wonderful Mum!" That little gift right there makes me want to try to be a better person. 

* Appropos of nothing, I made homemade marshmallows. It's about 90 degrees in Rio so it's not like I'm drinking hot chocolate or making s'mores at the firepit on a cold winter's night. There's no holiday coming up that requires sweet potatoes with a marshmallow topping. I don't even really like marshmallows. It just seemed a challenge to make them because who really makes homemade marshmallows? Except the Barefoot Contessa, that lady from Smitten Kitchen, the chef at my beloved Liberty Tavern in Arlington for their Thanksgiving sweet potatoes, and my sister-in-law Charlotte, who, after eating the sweet potatoes at Liberty Tavern on Thanksgiving a couple years ago, started making her own marshmallows. But other than that, who makes homemade marshmallows when you can buy the jet-puffed ones at the Harris Teeter. 

I rose to the challenge today. The marshmallows are in the drying phase, which takes hours. Truth be told, I think I may have made marshmallow fluff and not exactly a product that will firm up and dry out to be cut into a legitimate marshmallow. There was the little issue of the sugar syrup boiling over while I waited for the candy thermometer to register 240 degrees. Then as I moved the pot off the burner while the sticky mess (that never made it to 240 degrees) was oozing all over the stovetop, a minor fire broke out on the burner cover. No biggie - I was able to blow it out like a big birthday candle - but then I was distracted watching to see if it would catch again. I lost some liquid from the spillage that should've gone in the mixer to make the marshmallows. Whatevs. 

We'll see how it all comes out later. The finished product itself tasted excellent and it was super glossy and gorgeous. I'm just not 100% sure that the marshmallow "batter" was supposed to be super glossy.  Here's my pan of marshmallows, in the drying phase, and dusted with powdered sugar as instructed by the Barefoot Contessa:

If you have good recipes that call for marshmallow fluff, send them my way. I have a Pyrex pan full of fluff just waiting to be consumed.