Day 1 – Amsterdam

The 17th century is everywhere here.

Groetjes uit Nederland!

Greetings from the Netherlands, fiends! (Thanks Suzi, for checking my Dutch!)

This Odyssey started in all kinds of sketchy ways, but once I was actually over here, it’s been magic.

I won’t go into great detail, but I’ll give you this overview:

  1. I will never, ever, ever, ever again fly overseas in economy class. Never. Not ever. I may have to skip an Odyssey next year to save up for the fare, but…yeah.
  2. Rain when the plane left Cleveland, and rain upon landing in Toronto. Blah.
  3. The distance between the point at which I stepped off the plane in Toronto and onto my connecting flight to Amsterdam is equivalent to seven football fields. Maybe eight.
  4. Google says I walked (ran/hiked/shuffled/”excuse me, sorry, I’m gonna miss my plane!”) 5.3 miles. I believe it.
  5. Screaming, tantrum-throwing toddlers love to follow me around.

Fortunately, all of that fell into unimportance when I walked through the door at the terminal at Schiphol and saw Suzanne and Harold, holding a sign with my name on it. How fun!

After leaving their car at the train station, we took off for our hotel. The beautiful Mr. Jordaan is located in the oldest neighborhood in Amsterdam, and while I admit I booked it not knowing this at the time, it is a beautiful, quiet area, rich in history.

What I also didn’t know was that this would be the elevator to my room on the 5th floor. Fourteen steps between each floor — once again, Mama Fink got a workout (but a much-needed one, so no complaints here; at least I was carrying only my backpack and purse).

But what a view from my window. And unlike most hotels in cities overrun by tourism (and believe me, this one is), the only sound you hear at night is the occasional scooter going by, or muffled voices from a private canal boat on a late-night excursion. Simply heavenly to be here.

Yes, I’m a ridiculous tourist.

We walked the city, took a tour of the original Heineken brewery (did you know there are notes of banana in Heineken beer? I’m no beer connoisseur, but I smelled it. Fruity, man.), ate some great food, and finished the day with a canal boat tour. Soooo relaxing…I admit there were a few times when I thought I might drift off, as at that point, I’d been up for over 24 hours. (No, I didn’t sleep a single second on the plane; that’s all part of the long story I’m not telling. ;-) )

I especially enjoyed our boat ride, where I could gaze up at the architecture. Back in the 1600s, land was at a premium along the canal, so people built “up.” Tall, skinny buildings with ornate rooftops are everywhere here, including hooks embedded at the tops of the structures in order to lower large furniture and other items down to the pavement — things they still use today, 400 years later. Amazing to look at.

For a late dinner, we went to one of the many pancake houses in the city. I didn’t know this before, but pancakes are serious business to the Dutch. At Suzanne’s recommendation, I ordered  poffertjes — tiny, puffy pancakes in all kinds of decadent decorations and sauces. Harold had butter and whipped cream with his, Suzanne had butter pecan Brazilian cakes with ice cream, and I had the cherry. Unbelievable. I will make these at home, for my own bad self.

After schlepping back to the hotel, it was finally time for bed. Did you know it doesn’t get dark here in the summer till almost 10 p.m.? No matter — nothing was going to keep me from sleeping the sleep of the dead.

But I did so with great memories of my first day, in a beautiful place with great friends.

Until tomorrow — thank you for coming along!

 

Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3…

Little darlin’, it’s been a long, cold, lonely winter (and spring), but look how happy I am to be back with you again:

Y’know, it’s funny. You think you’ve done pretty well surviving one of the most harrowing tests of your life, and then what does the universe do? Tests you again. And again, and again. Such has been the case over this school year, which, I’m ashamed to say, is thankfully, finally, mercifully over.

Shew.

This year (mostly since my last letter to you back in January) I’ve dealt with suffering colleagues, troubled kids, absolutely rude and uncaring people, a raging narcissist, shady businesses, friends and family in pain, and 16 kinds of bad news. Holy cats — what gives? You’ve been there, too, though, I’m sure. Just keep zig-zagging, right? Dodge them ray gun particle beams so it looks like you’re just dancin’ the Watusi. That’s what I’m doing, because it’s never all testing, testing (even though it sometimes feels like it).

Of course, the bad stuff fades a bit when I think about Odyssey 2019! In nine short days, I’m off. So thankful for my sis Mavis, who will take great care of Remington while I’m gone, and for my sons, who will see to it that the house stays in running order.

Watch this space (or, if you haven’t already, subscribe in the box up there on the right) and I’ll ramble about all things Netherlands, Austria, Germany, Italy, and Slovenia, as well as post some pretty pictures. And I’m going to do my best to forget (or at least file away) the unpleasantness of this year, and concentrate on what’s important: today, and what I can make of it.

Hugs to all my fiends,
RF

Gain. Wait…Loss.

When I got to the end of 2018 (specifically, Christmas Eve), I thought, OK. I made it. One year without the Thriller. A year of grieving and learning, and learning to grieve. The day after Christmas, I woke up and took Remy out, stood on the back porch and breathed the cold air. It was a new day; a new era for me. Time to concentrate on being the best me I could be, because that’s what Michael would want.

Then, three days later, I heard that Lisa, my dear friend and partner in crimes against musical theater for the past 19 years, was having a bad week. So I texted her:

Doing the grad party circuit

New Year’s Eve was the Thriller’s and my wedding anniversary. I thought, rather than sit at home and feel sorry for myself, I’d go spend some quality time with my good friend Stoney, since she had no plans.

When I got there, her friend and caregiver answered the door — not Lisa herself. Red flags went up in my mind. She was in bed, unable and unwilling to get up. So I went upstairs, lay in her bed with her, and we laughed and had a nice conversation, although something looked strangely familiar. The only way I can describe it is that there was nothing behind her eyes. Michael had that look as well, when the disease started to overtake his brain as well as his liver and lungs. Dread crept into my heart; I knew, lying there next to her, looking at silly pictures on my phone and making her laugh, that this was the last time I would ever be with her in this world.

Theater dept. selling the basketball tickets

I was right.

On New Year’s Day, she worsened, and then was transported to the hospital, then to a Hospice facility. It all happened so fast. Yesterday morning, she died. She fought metastatic breast cancer for over 20 years, and just kept beating it back. I’m angry that most times, eventually, cancer wins.

Still…I have fantastic memories of a two-decade friendship that brought a ton of laughter, fun, learning and sweetness to my life. Not that we didn’t have struggles, especially in rehearsals. Oh my, the stories I could tell — one of the most famous being during (insert show here — I have no recollection) rehearsal one evening, when she’d had enough with lackluster acting efforts onstage.

Pondering a favorite activity we often shared

We each took turns, it seemed, ranting and raving at our casts to sing out/identify with their character/follow through/remember choreography/try harder/commune with their audience/give a dang, etc. Well, this was her night to go off the rails, and during the tirade, she threw the pencil she was holding — and it hit me right in the face. Ow!! The best part was watching the cast — silent onstage, taking their medicine — trying to decide whether or not to react. Priceless. (Of course, when Stoney laughed and apologized, the tension released and everyone had a laugh at my expense – including me.)

When it was my turn to lose my mind, she found it difficult to not laugh. So she’d look intently at her script and pretend (badly) to take notes or read while I ranted, with the cast totally seeing what was going on, but not daring to smile or react. God love ’em…I respect that. hahahaha

I could write all day about the times we sat in my room or hers, often with a small pizza to share before rehearsals, and talked about life and love and just stuff in general. We shared secrets, dished dirt, laughed (oh my, did we laugh), and talked musical theater for forever. Her love for it was as strong as mine has ever been. The reason it exists at our school traces back to early 2000, when she asked me if I might help her with the music part of a show she wanted to do (Bye Bye Birdie). I said sure, why not? From that day, we were pretty much inseparable.

We drove each other crazy on occasion, and had a couple verbal knock-down-drag-outs, but always hugged and apologized in the end. She was a sweet soul, so undeserving of the beating she took over the years with this hideous disease. I will love and miss her forever.

Of course, she would tell me that hey, the show goes on, no matter what. So I will put on the tap shoes later on this afternoon and start choreographing the production number for the show in March that will be performed entirely in her honor.

Life — as sucky as it sometimes is — goes on, despite the crushing heartbreak of losing a loved one. I’m sure you’ve known that sadness. But, as the Thriller used to say: Onward through the fog! I can’t see what’s next, but one foot goes in front of the other, regardless. Stoney would want it that way, too. I see them both up in heaven, having a laugh at my silliness.

Much love…

HNY from RtB IX

Well, here we are.

Hello, fiends — I know it’s been a while. I’d imagine that many of us are in varying stages of rumination/reflection about the past year, and I’m no exception.

I’d be fibbing if I said my 2018 wasn’t a difficult one. It’s taken me a full year to acclimate myself to this new life I never asked for, and I guess I’ll always be in a state of adjustment, as new experiences bring new memories. But at least the memories are fond. :-) 

The new year is already presenting some difficulties, but I am resolved to handle them with all the grace and self-control I can scrape together. How about you?

I’ve generally found that new year’s resolutions put pressure on me I’d rather not self-inflict. So, I’ve generally stayed away from them (except maybe for here, and here, and oh, here). Truthfully, I can’t even think of one I’d like to make that would be “new,” and not a continuation of stuff I’ve already been working on (being kinder to myself, saving more money, losing weight, blah blah…).

So, what to do? Just continue to live as conscientiously and happily as we can, given our circumstances. Hmmm. New Year’s Continuing Resolutions? I like the sound of it. I now own it.

New Year’s Continuing Resolutions©

  1. Be kind.
  2. Forgive people — even those who neither ask for, nor think they need, forgiveness from you. (This one’s a tuffy.)
  3. Eat wisely, but well. Stop stressing over every calorie.
  4. Stop being so dang negative about everything, for cripesake. Look for the good.
  5. Realize that positive thought and sunny outlook are not gifts for the few; they’re habits worth developing.
  6. Pay stuff forward.
  7. Learn to say “no” without the obligatory accompanying personal identity crisis.
  8. Make plans (to travel!) and practice discipline in saving money to realize them.

Got any to add?

As always, thank you for reading and going on my silly journeys with me. I should write to you more often. It makes me happy!

Much love…

Odyssey 2019

Greetings, fiends — it’s been a while, hasn’t it. I’ve missed writing to you!

July, August, and September are a blur to me now. Some good things happened, and I also suffered some. It’s OK. All is well today, and I’m continuing my quest to plan and do things that stretch me as a human, and that I know would make the Thriller happy. I’m missing him bigtime right now. Blah. But he wouldn’t want me to pine or whine about it. So here we go — the big reveal.

Odyssey 2019:

Six fun places

My hope is that I’ll be able to do the Netherlands-Vienna-Salzburg leg with Suzanne. Even if she can’t get away for that, I’ll still enjoy hanging with her in Amsterdam, as she lives about 70 miles from there.

After two days in Vienna, it’s off to Salzburg, where the highlight will be the Sound of Music Movie Tour:-D And natch, I’ll need someone to video me doing the slow singing turn when I climb that mountain (kidding — the mountain is actually in Germany, and the land is privately owned, but the meadow is accessible…) and sing “I Have Confidence” walking down that lane, and “Do Re Mi” while balancing on that fountain. Roll tape.

And what would a trip to Vienna and Salzburg be without a Mozart walk? We’ll likely start there, as I know Suzi is a Mozart fan as well (she has a kitty named Mozart, and another named Brahms!). And don’t forget the sausages, the biergartens, the outdoor festivals, the castles and the Alps.

After saying goodbye to Suzanne, I’ll finish the trip with a visit to Bob and Kay’s home in Slovenia. They’ve been living there on and off regularly since who knows when, and I’ve never visited them there.

I wish it was today.

But hey, there’s Shrek work to be done, and groceries to buy, and bulbs to plant. We’ll just have to see how that auger drill bit I bought works for digging the holes. I hope you’re all doing great! Till next time…