Sarah Gerdes's Blog, page 6

Weekend books specials 9/27-9/29

Action adventure and money making; a strange but wonderful combination

Bargain booksie is offering a .99 promo to it’s 150K newsletter group for the Overlooked Expert for Apple, Kobo, Scribd, 24 Symbols, Amazon, Google, and a few others for THIS WEEKEND ONLY. I’m alerting you because it’s up and live now and ends Sunday.

10th Anniversary Edition, perfect timing as we anticipate another recesiion

Wanting to earn extra cash for what’s in your knowledge and know-how? TOE profiles 24 individuals from different industries and backgrounds who turned their knowledge into side or full-time businesses earning triple (on average) what they earned in their full-time job. It’s a fast, easy read with plenty of how-to’s and 100 vocation ideas. For faster notification of deals, follow my dedicated Facebook Author page.

In between learning how to make more money, turning your attention to historical fiction wrapped in action-adventure and martial arts with a bit of romance and martial arts. Chambers 1 is free to get you into the series available on 24 Symbols, Apple, B & N, Kobo Scribd and others. Chambers 2: The Spirit for $1.99. Apple, B & N, 24 Symbols, Kobo, and Scribd.

Book one is set in 14th Century China when it was ruled by a teenager and his Empress, while book two is the Indian wars in the United States. Good and evil, zombies and spirits, all come alive as the legend of the oldest civilization on record plays out. Get your set now before the weekend runs out. You can also follow more specials on the dedicated Chambers Facebook page.

It was fun imaging (my version) of the Emperor’s Palace in 14th century Nanjing. I took history and embellished it…just a bit:)

Insides Out

Tumors, faith and what’s meant to be

Three weeks ago today, I got cut hip to hip, and out popped
two fibroid
myomas (otherwise known as tumors), hence my online absence. With healing
comes pain, and pills address the majority of the discomfort, but not this big
stretch of skin now hanging between my hips. It’s a wonderfully hideous ledge
of flesh with a bubble-like quality, as if air has blown through the tube
ending at either hip.

It’s fun to describe someone else’s angst in fiction, but so
infinitely better when I turn the letters on myself. As my agent has often said
about my life, “You can’t write that. No one would believe it.”

I beg to differ. Lots of my less-than-finer moments have
found their way into my fiction.

A dream foretelling the demise of a marriage, and subsequently losing everything? That became a plotline for In a Moment, recounting a few of the gorier, but amazing moments of my life in San Francisco. Learning to break someone’s neck as a 5th section black belt. Yep, that’s the first chapter and scene in Global Deadline. But life as a writer became downright prophetic when I ended up in a hospital in a foreign land. All I got wrong was the country: in Made for Me, it was Switzerland. This was in Verona, Italy. And who can forget the intruder/robber that took place in A Convenient Date? The home described was the one I actually lived in, and the intruder? Yes, he actually did hack into the security through the remote heating/cooling. Terrifying, and resulted in us getting a dog, but I lived through it. And Meant to Be? It’s a philosophy I live by, so it was a fitting title for the final book in a romance series.

But I digress. This is really about “The Ledge,” as I now refer to it. This lip of excess skin was caused by the removal of Gary and Arnold, so named because my 9-year-old explained, “two growing things need a name.” Sure enough, by the time of extraction, one was a cantaloupe and the other a grapefruit. Today, I’m dealing with the after-effects of an abdominal surgery with complications, and I’m sharing both pics and details with the world because I don’t possess a lot of shame, or embarrassment, two qualities my mother, she-of-all-that-is-proper, believe are important. Me? Not so much. I’m all about information, which is what you should have.

This was the day we left for the hospital- two tumors about the size of avacados, along with what turned out to be a nasty infection



Complications

First off, two surgeons spent nearly three hours detaching my bladder and other major organs from my uterus before they could get to removing my uterus and tumors therein. Scar tissue and a rare form of endometriosis, had wreaked havoc on my insides, which required the cervix to remain (the bladder wasn’t letting go, and no one’s happy with a punctured bladder).

The upside, as my surgeon said, “The sex will be a lot
better with the cervix in.” Good news, assuming my body (and ledge) will at some
point, allow this activity again. The downside is my body is trying to figure
out who it’s going to be when it heals. Anything I eat or drink causes excruciating
pain. Is this due to the trauma of separating the major organs, my uterus missing
or what? No one knows, the opinions of the OBGYN, surgeon and my primary care
doctors are in disagreement, and the vault of all wisdom (the Internet) is void
of people with my experience. Here’s reality.

Inflammation is a real by-product of an abdominal hysterectomy. I don’t care (nor should you) that the Dr.’s say the Ibuprofen will reduce the swelling. If the internals are traumatized, your bladder (and routes) seal up line a drum; nothing can release. I experienced this when my sutures started to rip (internally) from an overfull bladder. Sexy, I know. But I was about screaming in pain, the on-call nurse performed a scan, called the doctor, they forcefully inserted a catheter (super fun!) and out drained nearly 1,300 ML of fluid. That’s a full bag and third of those IV drip bags of liquid. No wonder I was dying inside.Inflammation persists. I believed what I was told: “It will go down after a few days.” Nope. Not with me. It’s now day 21, and while I can relieve myself (yeah, I know, a lot of info but someone out there needs it), if I don’t take at least one prescription-grade Ibuprofen with codeine, it hurts.Migraines. These started about 2 years ago, and for a previously non-headache girl, I’d ignorantly subscribed to the notion that migraines were literally, in the head and nothing more than a bad headache. As Lindsey says, “We mock that which we don’t understand, and then we get to experience it ourselves.” Yep. That holds true. These eye-darkening, vomiting-producing, in-bed-for-two-days experiences finally led me to the doctor 12 months ago. All I can say is Sorry to all those I doubted and Thank Heaven for the Maxal generic, Rizatriptan made by Aurobindo Pharma USA. The reason I bring this up now is because a) spasms are triggering a migraine a day and b) not all Maxal generic- Rizatriptan brands are the same! With Aurobindo, it’s chewable, fast acting and powerful. Post surgery, I was prescribed Rizatriptan by Unichem Pharmaceutical and it can’t be chewed, hence is slower acting, and not as strong. E.g. I have to take 2 for every 1 made by Unichem. I told my pharmacist and he pointed me back to the original prescription. Yet another bit of learning all you migraine-fellow-sufferers must know!Spasms. Why didn’t anyone tell me. Imagine getting punched between your hips, then having the fingers dig and twist for about 90 seconds or more. That’s what I’ve been enduring about 6-8 times a day for two weeks. Right around the time my suture closed up, these spasms became pronounced. In hindsight, I’d gone off the major pain pills (around day 8) and day 10, had reduced the Ibuprofen to about 1 a day. Some amount of bowel transition is to be expected (e.g. constipation to diarrhea) as it’s figuring out what its own version of authentic self really is. Still. As my primary Dr. said yesterday, “This isn’t’ normal.”



But then, what is in my life?

When I was in the hospital in Verona, Italy, the physicians were quite sure I had cancer in several areas, and while curable, my life would be forever different. I’d have a poop bag attached to my hip, my life of activity and physical relations with my husband altered, and we weren’t sure our relationship would survive. (Imagine the stories I was considering. Real life, sure? But an interesting read? Not so much).

Growing, growing…I’m looking five-ish weeks pregnant, just one week later

Yet the second aspect of this scenario, talking to our daughters about the possibility of death was easier to have. It went like this: “I’ve had a good run, you will move beyond this and eventually, your dad will remarry. I hope he finds a good one.” If that sounds callous, trust me, it was anything but. What you might not know is that after facing major health issues with my daughter, and dealing with her potential mortality from age six to nine, death and dying conversations weren’t new, or horrifying to us as a family. (Thus proving that one truly has no idea what is going on behind closed doors).

Just three weeks later, when we’d arrived home. Can you believe how the stomach had exploded?







This is one week before the surgery–I had to wait 30 days after returning home. Left is after drinking 1/2 cup of water, and the right is in the morning–no food/water. The distension turned out to be caused by a rare form of endometriosis.



Attitude is everything

Do you hate reading that line when you are going through
hardships? My mother does, because, as a shrink, it’s all about validation with
her. Do you feel angry? Yes!! That’s empathy and compassion, sure, but with me,
I actually do believe that attitude is—well, everything.

You see, as I type, I’ve had to push my computer further away on my legs to get it away from The Ledge. It’s getting in the way of my palms, screwing up my writing groove. I could be annoyed, or I could contemplate The Ledge holding a sandwich on abad bay, making for an easy grab. I don’t wonder if it’s going to go away, I just work around it.

Four hours of surgery later, hip to hip, and I was fortunate another vertical cut wasn’t required. The tumors grew so rapidly in that last month–who would have known?

That brings me to another of my life-themes. When my close
family or friends talk to me about Present-day trials (spasms, always knowing
the nearest, public bathroom on any street, popping migraine pills like candy),
I’m the one saying life is great.

“I don’t have MS, cancer, diabetes, chronic back pain or a poop bag…” I always begin, before I end with “if the worst I have it is taking a pill a day and using the bathroom six times a day, I’m good!”

At present, pants hurt and skirts show this lovely, thick ledge ringing my midsection like a muffin top gone south, three inches lower than it should be. It’s rigid, too. My arms have flabbed out as I had to stop lifting back in July. Yep, my life’s sexy right now, but it’s real life, and I’m sure that even the batwings may find themselves in a book—well, at least a sentence and most likely on a beloved grandma.

A sting and a prayer

Lest I forget, the day I returned home must be shared. After ten, painful minutes, I’d finally descended into the chair. I lean back, carefully lifting a cup of fresh watermelon juice Rog has made. Immediately I scream, shooting the liquid straight out, a scene perfect for a B-movie. A wasp was on the edge of the cup, and I’d never seen it. My tongue started to swell, I’m laughing and crying, the kids run to get me ice as Rog gives me a Benadryl. I’ve had plenty of bee stings without an issue, but this time, not so. Within minutes, my arms are covered in red bumps, my tongue is expanding and I start speaking like the guy in the original Mummy, when Emotep extracts both tongue and eyes.

“My tongue!” I yelp, barely making out the words. Rog and the girls are laughing and worried. By the time, both ears had started to close in, and having had a burst eardrum, I knew the signs. My eyes were nearly shut, and my breathing was becoming short–the space for air narrowing. Rog calls the Dr at the ER, who asks how long it would take to get to in.

“Twenty-five minutes.”

“You’re not going to make it,” he told Roger, and when I heard this, agreed. My throat would be closed. The Bendadryl was doing not-a-thing, and so I did what any girl of faith would do.

“I’m going to pray,” I told Rog and the girls. “If God wants me healed, he’ll stop this and take care of me. And if it’s my time, then so be it. Rog,” I paused, barely able to see him, “My insurance is current and you’ll find love and get married again. Just find a good one.” It was a variant of my words a month prior, as though the message needed to be said once again to get through.

I fully recognize these photos are horribly hilarious–but it’s real life. Check out that tongue–as it was swelling, I had to have Rog catalogue it–wasps-be-gone.

With that, I said a prayer that ended with “Thy will be done.” To be safe, Rog inserted a straw down my throat.

Within moments, the tightening around the straw ceased and the red bumps on my arms started to burn, but it was short-lived. Gradually, my ears unplugged, and my eyes, though still shut, stopped burning. My head, which had been fuzzy, started to clear. An hour later, I could see and think, and hear clearly. It took a full hours, and I looked like the female version of the Stay-puff-marshmellow-man, but I was going to be fine.

What I called an answer to prayer, my husband called mind-over-matter and Benadryl. I call it faith.

Five days post surgery and two post wasp sting.

Now, three weeks later, I’ve thought about the events: pain, blindness, collapsing in Italy, making it through three weeks on serious pain drugs as we finished our trip, then the home coming, surgery, sting and recovery. Layers of blessings accompanied each new challenge, and the way things have turned out, I know it’s all meant to be–for my learning. If I can help someone by sharing this, then it’s been worth it.

At home. At peace.

The Ugly Sweater

When what you’ve asked for doesn’t arrive as expected

It used to be that the morning after Thanksgiving, families across the country would get dressed up and go downtown to look at the store decorations. In the windows along the streets, works of art, mechanical and sometimes with real people or animals, the displays would draw thousands inside the store. There, the consumer would be wowed with an even bigger surprise. The purpose was for the store owners to express their gratitude for the support for the previous eleven months. Feeling appreciate, the consumers made even more purchases, the act an expression and receipt of gratitude.

This reciprocity between retailer and consumer was so successful, that the Friday after Thanksgiving became known as black Friday, because retail stores operated for eleven months of the year at a loss, or being “in the red,” then on one day, the store finally made a profit, or went into the black.

Sadly, this tradition of showing thanks has lessened, gratitude
replaced with expectation, the expression and receipt of gratitude gone.

Theologian Thomas S. Monson said that “feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.”

Ugly sweaters and gratitude

At times, it’s hard to feel gratitude if what we have sought through sincere prayer doesn’t match what the Lord has delivered. It’s like asking for a sweater you expect to be soft, beautiful and well-made. When the big day comes, the wrapping is wrinkled, the bow not tied properly, and within, is a sweater, yes, but it’s doesn’t fit, the material is coarse and doesn’t fit quiet right. It’s an ugly sweater.

Looking back on my life, I’ve had plenty of gifts I’ve hated, real
or figurative, but it wasn’t until the last ten years or so that I started to
look beyond the delivery method and my disappointment to focus on the positive
aspects of what I’d received. Roger, my husband of nearly 21 years, has often
coached me (scolded? demanded?) to be grateful for the gift, regardless of
whether or not we like it. Easy in principle, harder in application.

In a recent example of this, I’ll refer to my family. Over the
years, our strong personalities and life decisions were like a lake gone dry.
Without the replenishment of understand, the land grew cracked, then scorched, many
spots barren. My parents prayed for reconciliation, certainly without asking or
expecting additional heartache for each child, but that’s what occurred. Within
six months, challenging issues with a teenage or adult children arose of a
severe nature. The package of the sweater was awful and the garment inside
horrid.

But then the miracles occurred. Previously unresolvable issues with
siblings and in-laws were set aside, pride and ego associate submerged as the
parents came together and held a fast for these precious children. We were
united in heartache and strengthened in faith, ultimately incredibly grateful
for the hard circumstances that finally brought us together in the spirit of
Christ. The Lord, in His wisdom, knew that these challenges brought us together
when nothing else could.

We all learned that an ugly sweater can still keep you warm.

Over the years, I’ve found three principles are consistently associated with gratitude. The are trusting in the Lord, keeping perspective and practicing remembrance of our blessings.

Trust in the Lord

Dieter H Uchtorff said that: “True gratitude comes from
acknowledging that we do not always understand the trials of life, but trusting
that one day we will.”

Trust
was required when not long after I was married, my husband decided he didn’t
want children. He enjoyed the financial freedom we had, and didn’t want to be
tethered to the home for any reason, including a pet. Years passed, and when I
was thirty-two, I’d passed through periods of anger, hopeless, apathy, and then
resignation. I loved him, and not having children wasn’t going to change that.
One night, while I was praying, I recall turning it over to the Lord, asking
him to fill the void I was feeling. I distinctly thought the words: “Thy will
be done,” hoping to find contentment in my situation.

The nights were warm, and our home was without air conditioning.
Rog was awake and working but I was tired and went to the basement where it was
cooler, falling asleep quickly. I woke up to a figure at the end of my bed. Assuming
it was Rog, I mumbled something, turned over and went back to sleep. Sometime
later, I woke again, and this time, the person was very close, leaning over me,
wearing all black. I sat straight up, tried to scream but was voiceless with
fear. By the time I could yell, he was out the door. When the police sat with
us, they said intruders hate lights and dogs. The very next day, we got a dog, my
husband’s prior proclamation about no pets in the house long forgotten.

“Thou shalt thank the Lord thy God in all
things,” is a phrase often repeated.

All things means just that: good
things, difficult things—not just some things.

While I was unspeakably grateful for my safety (and to finally get
a dog), it took me a while to see that this event was the first step in many
the Lord had to orchestrate in our lives. The second step was more gradual in
nature, but far more devastating. At the time, I owned a business with a dozen
employees that had been thriving for a decade. For some inexplicable reason, our
projects were drying up, some naturally concluding while new ones were stalled
or cancelled. Having never been through an economic down cycle, I didn’t
realize we were on the leading edge of the 07/08 recession. My stress level
rose as one employee after another was recruited by clients who could offer
more long-term stability. One day, Rog looked at me with a bit of pity.

“You are trying to put out the deck chairs on the Titanic,” he
began. Seeing I wasn’t getting the reference, he continued. “You’re the
religious one, not me,” he pointed out. “But I don’t think God wants you to be
in business anymore.” Rog then joked something to the effect of: “We haven’t
killed the dog, and have to be home with her anyway, so maybe you should go to
the doctor to get checked out.”

Could it possibly be that through the ugly sweater of first, the intruder
and then the business winding down were to result in what I’d been wanting for…praying
for seven years would happen? No, the sweater wasn’t pretty, but it certainly
was warm.

Keep perspective

A Christian philosopher said: “The Lord’s hand in
our lives is often clearest in hindsight.”

Within the year of Rog telling me to “get checked out,” I was in
high risk pregnancy. Yet I still tried to conduct business with a few remaining
clients I could handle myself. One day, the doctor told me I was “A zebra in
the Serengeti, being chased by lions.” He said I was pushing my body to the
limits, even by working from home. He warned that if I did not stop all
activity, save going to the restroom, I would lose the baby.

Now, for those of you who know me, I’m not really the type to sit
still, let alone lay bone straight, in bed, for months. Yet, in hindsight, the
Lord knew I needed to have a long period of time alone and without distraction
as a transitionary period to prepare me for the life-altering situation of motherhood,
and to be grateful for the gift of staying at home.

Dieter Uchtdorf  said that: “Being grateful in times of distress does not mean that we are pleased with our circumstances. It does mean that through the eyes of faith we look beyond our present-day challenges.”

The rule of Threes

This was highlighted when I was nine months pregnant, and was finally
allowed to drive. It was a clear, blue and happy day in Seattle, which is a
rare and wonderful occasion. Although the recession was in full-swing, I felt
all the gratitude that eight years of praying to have a child and receiving an
answer could bring. In other words, I was now wearing
the warm sweater, but was I wearing it with pride? No, not yet. In fact, I was
going to get another ugly top.

Cruising along that sunny day, I received a call on my cell phone,
and the first words my husband said to me was that he was out of a job.

At that moment, I purposefully lifted my foot from the gas pedal.
It was not possible. The company he founded was profitable, employed many
employees and growing. The board however, decided they wanted an older, more
experienced person to take it to the next phase in its life. Rog was devastated
and I was worried sick.

In an April 2014 talk on gratitude, Uchtorff counseled us “To be
thankful in our circumstances…not to keep score by counting the number
of things to be grateful FOR.” He was talking about the overall spirit of
gratitude.

Practice remembrance

In an October 2007 talk, Henry B. Eyring said the key to gratitude
is remembrance and specifically, the hand of God in our lives. He related a
time in his life when he was discouraged. An associate counseled him to write a
recall and write few lines for those things he was grateful for—every day. Eyring
said he  specifically asked himself: “Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us or
our children or our family today?”

If we do this, “Gratitude will grow in your heart as
it did in mine,” Erying promised.

In that moment of driving on the freeway, knowing neither of us
had a source of income, telling myself to breath, I remembered the hard
experiences that had brought us to that point, for what I counted must have
been the fiftieth time.

The break-in of my home had led to a dog. My company had effectively
shut down, but I became pregnant. Bad had been followed by good; what had
occurred was orchestrated in the Lords way and in his timing. I had to
purposefully set aside temporary fear, the journey, have gratitude for all we
had and importantly, continue the faith. As Eyring has promised, remembrance of
the blessings truly grew the gratitude grew in my
heart.

Within a few months, Rog
started a new business, allowing our family to grow and prosper. He also had a
newfound empathy and compassion for others; that very hard trial evolved him
from a good man to a great one.

Still waiting for the
pretty sweater, and I got what…another ugly one that doesn’t fit!

If you’ve been following
my summer journeys, you know I landed in the ER in Verona, Italy, tumors were
discovered, an infection controlled and lots of pain was to be endured. Upon my
return, I’ve spent the days seeing different specialists; the tumors have grown,
I have a different (and yuckier) issue, the hysterectomy and tumors removed but
the “yuckier” issue will be with me perhaps permanently for-the-rest-of-my-life.
Really?? At times like this, denial is a good thing, but it’s temporary. As my
13-year-old daughter pointed out: “We were praying for change. Don’t you think
this is the Lord’s way of answering our prayers?”

“Yes,” I replied, “I do.”

That’s where the faith
and trust comes in to play. These two items create the cement of faith that
dries, and I rely upon it every day as I put one foot in front of the other, trusting
in the Lords plan . It’s what I lie upon when the tears come because I must decline
being active with my family due to pain. Downtimes come, I acknowledge the
emotions, take a break, then get right back up and get going. Time, health and
money are not entitlements; they are a privilege. That too, is another mantra.

I am grateful for my
challenges and wouldn’t take them back, because each one has led me and my
family to a better place. And in truth, if the only way I can better understand
the gospel of Jesus Christ and become more like Him is to get knocked around
mentally, physically or financially, then this will likely continue.

My newsletter comes out once a month (when life is normal) and you can sign up at the main page on my website, and comment on my Facebook page at sarahgerdes_author on Instagram.

Feature image: the Italian Alps, which seems appropriate when talkin about the cliffs of life; you are either staring up, scaling them or falling off.

August Reading Promos live!

Two beach going books: romance and dystopian, both ebooks free

Nothing’s better than arriving home to a sparkling pool, green grass and clean sheets. On the downside, one chicken died (out of 20), another turned cannibal (we caught her eating three eggs just after they’d been laid) , one bee hive (out of four) is infested with mites.

Welcome to my crazy, sexy, author life. In the midst of burying said dead hen, laying mite strips and figuring out if Hannibella-the-hen can be reformed, I realized today kicks off two end-of-summer promotions! Both are free, and each include books from several dozen authors as well as enter-to-win gift cards.

Your next boyfriend romance

Ratings are mild to adult (mybookcave rating system is much like the movie rating….swearing, sex, etc), and it’s listed on the page. The enter to win is on the right side, so don’t miss that. My title, A Convenient Date, is listed in this promotion. In case you missed it, this title follows a woman who’s husband died of a heart attack and she’s finally getting her life together when she’s hit with a lawsuit. Her husband has been living a secret life, which threatens to bring her company down–not to mention leaving her destitute. In the middle of it all, she meets a handsome transplant from San Francisco (the book is set in Seattle). They are both single, uninterested in dating but need companions for business events. That is the start of their Convenient Dates.

The backstory to this should surprise no one. I was single For-ev-er in San Francisco. I daydreamed about a hot, intelligent and purely platonic man who I could partner up with in order to avoid sitting by horribly boring people at the multiple events one must attend while in the corporate world. This daydream including the man being dark haired (although quite honestly, I wouldn’t have been very picky), wealthy and unattached. I mean, I was dreaming, right? Why not throw it all in the mix? Of course, nothing is perfect, and so Rick Santos has an unruly son from a previous marriage…which adds a challenging twist.

Post apocalyptic Dystopian

The second free group promo includes my latest book Incarnation. I always go with the reviews and the back of book copy. This is the latest review up on Amazon. Make sure to enter to win the $25.

The genesis of this story was all the plastic surgery going around–and this was years ago. Not that I haven’t succumbed to my share of botox (which I then had to stop because my husband told me I was looking like a freak and he was going to divorce me–as subtle as always)…I then thought about a future world where the occupants would look back and say… “Can you believe, there was a time when people changed their faces on purpose?” Lots of research later, this is the book, and I must say, I love it. Fast, unique in the take on DNA and realistic. It’s also clean, and the underlying romance is one I wish I’d had. Enjoy and write a review. Me and other readers will thank you.

Aquaworld Hungary: a unique waterpark you’ll want to go year round

When Rog told me we weren’t going to make it to Poland after all, due to changes in our schedule, the girls and I were seriously disappointed, so he wanted to cheer us up by offering Aquaworld. After three days walking all over Budapest, and having previously visited Legoland, Tripsdrill, and multiple water-oriented destinations in the last four weeks, my first reaction to Aquaworld was nope. Not interested, especially when my visual was me chasing the kids all over the park when relaxing was more on my agenda.

“Come in,” he encouraged. “It will be fun, and if you want, I’ll run around with the girls and you can relax.” Huh. Didn’t sound so bad after all.

Multiple pools indoor and out, for adults only and families. Lots of grass, umbrellas and bars so no one goes without.



Close and convenient

Aquaworld has several locations around Hungary, one just ten minutes outside Budapest central. Since we couldn’t extend our stay at the apartment downtown, Rog took advantage of the package for a stay in a suite, plus four passes to the waterpark, buffet breakfast included (not continental, but full breakfast) for 235 Euro, we were in.

Massive and amazing

Straight and a few rights took us to Aquaworld, the passes are magnetized wristbands that resemble a round Applewatch. It grants access to the areas- which include the full children’s playground and child care (you must register separately but no additional fee) the waterslides, multiple indoor and outdoor pools–in fact, Aquaworld planned for all seasons, because the designers replicated every feature indoor as available outdoor, including the jungle-like high walkways.

Dome covered indoor area guarantees you don’t get sunburned in the summer and stay toasty in the winter

Indoor waterball (we call them garble balls) are in the wave pool, the Aztec designed theme an interesting yet fun choice. Separate adult-only areas exist both indoor and out, and the full-service Spa, hair salon and gym are located one floor above, with a stairway connecting to the lower area for easy access. Towels, robes and slippers are provided for the whole family. To top it off, the bar opens promptly at 8 a.m., so for those early risers who just want to get going, the bar makes smoothies and sells pastries as well as adult concoctions.

Fantastic Buffet

My pictures don’t do the food service justice. I missed taking the shot of the bread bar, where baskets or stacked chest high, to encourage families to load up and take as many as required! Where does that happen in the US? Another full bar was all for pastries, yet another for eggs, another for meats–about twenty different kinds. Hungarians love their pork, and I’m pretty sure an unwritten rule exists about how many must be offered to be considered legit.

Regardless, I couldn’t eat anything except liquid on this particular day, so I can only say the hot chocolate was thick and divine.

What I liked best and least

This was one easy. I liked it all. Nothing to “not like.” I even found a superior bathing suit at the gift shop–designer quality, fabric and style for 40 Euro. What more could I have asked for?

Feature photo: from within the Dome

A walk through Budapest to Parliament

Starting from our apartment, it’s five minutes to the main square. Instead of giving you the blow by blow, this is my blog through pics.

Historical buildings surround a block-wide park with Ferris wheel- a bit hot during the middle of the day because they are enclosed, but fun and a great way to see the center of town.







Past the Cathedral, the Four Seasons, Sofitel and right in front of the Intercontinental where Rog first stayed 20 yrs ago. He reunited with his best friend–this is right on the waterfront, the railroad right in front of all the waterboards below.







Two views of the bridge- to the left is looking back into the city and the right is up at the Parliament building.







The bridge is a five minute walk max, a center turnabout and then the tram which one can take you straight up to the Parliament. We walked (of course) but the switch back is easy–another 10 minutes. The steps to the main landing (UR), and a quick turn around to look at the bridge.







The prominent statue in front of Parliament, a big part of which is not a gallery open to the public. Behind the building (which is open but deserted) shows a different face–one that’s deteriorated, not painted, but where the government workers have offices. The view to the city this time of day is glorious.







Beautiful from every angle–no wonder we saw three different wedding couples taking pictures on the grounds.







While most visitors stay up top in the newer part of the Hungarian Parliament building, we explored the back, original parts which were far more interesting, and offer views to the hills and “other” side of the city. The herb gardens had thyme pushes my height, along with lavender and rosemary spread to the size of cars.







This is the back part of Parliament. It’s not closed off, nor do they hide the wires strung outside, haven’t cleaned/washed the walls in decades, lawns aren’t cared for, plants are overgrown, but it’s majestic, authentic and interesting. In fact, a stone deck stretches around the entire backside, and you can walk it!







An original tower and entrance that’s not even visible from the town, river or current front entrance.







From the Parliament building is this stone castle, the next rise over (about 1 mile between the two hilltops)







One of several panoramic views from the top of Parliament in Budapest, Hungary



Feature photo: of the city taken from Parliament.

Apartment living in Budapest, Hungary

Well, Rog spoiled me on this one. Yeah, I liked the villa in Verona, as much as I hated the cramped, awful place in Bellagio, but one was country living, the other was city, which were polar opposites, good and bad. With the apartment he found in Hungary, I have the best of both: space and convenience! Not an easy balance to strike when you are also wanting a reasonable deal.

View from our corner apartment down to the restaurant-filled lane below



Let’s talk numbers

Four days, three nights in this three-bedroom, two bath top floor in Budapest, one block for atelier shopping and seven minutes tops (about four blocks) from the central square in Old Town was roughly five hundred Euros. What a steal. Parking wasn’t included, and that was another 60 Euro, so all in, less than 600. Holy cow. Love Budapest! We had one of the best brunch restaurants twenty feet from our doorstep, on the corner of a pedestrian-only lane, which also has two eateries for gluten and vegetarian diners, but also a pub with billiards. Around the corner is Robert Maar boutique, and we met him, had clothes custom made for Rog, and I even picked up two handmade designs by Robert as well.

I’m going to cover the downtown, riverboats, parliament and other subjects separately, since this focus of this blog is to 1) demystify Budapest as a scary, big down for those of you who have shied away from going to the country and 2) show you what can be had for really affordable prices.

View to the pedestrian-only lane (UL), the sitting room (two couches on either side not pictured) (UR) the dining room.







Three bedrooms, one came with girls, too pooped to get out of bed



The building and atrium

Like all structures downtown, zero space exists between buildings.
Just two down from us was another undergoing complete reconstruction, the new apartments
Euro-modern, not old town. Aside from that is a graffiti-lace building that has
yet to undergo a transformation. The units are designated by simple numbers
(10-12) per block, so you just locate the number and you are set. Each has
electronic pads for entry, then the 12’ high doors open wide. Marble floors, a
lift (or elevator as we call it in the States) or the flight up. Being on the
sixth floor, what do you think we did once our bags were inside? Walk, of
course. Rog just doesn’t feel good about our massive caloric intake unless we get
in our stairs.

It’s a beautiful hike though. A wide, 40×40 (at least) bottom floor, open garden is in the middle, and every floor landing has baskets with fresh flowers around the perimeter. The glass elevator is lovely, and we used it when hauling our bags, or when I was simply too pooped to party up those stairs.

Street view in the other direction. See the dome beyond? That’s the magistrate building in Old Town, where the carousel, main Piazza and grand Cathedral are located.



Gates, bars and three locks

Quite a few of the front doors are elegantly designed, and
lack a single piece of metal for security purposes. Ours, however, is double
doors, the first entry point all metal (in white, matching the door). This was
one lock. Then to the door itself, which had two. Nothing is getting past this
fortress. Once inside the top-floor, corner unit, we understood why. It’s
straight out of the pre-soviet era, when structures were tall and grand.
Actually, perhaps they are still that way—we wouldn’t know, but to our new-to-Budapest-eye,
it was better than the pictures on Expedia (I think this was on both VRBO and
Expedia, but we got a better deal on the Expedia).

As you can see from the pictures, inlaid wood floors, chandeliers which we learned were custom made for this apartment – I should have taken a close up—lilies in different colors accent the lighting in each room save the living room, a nice detail. Care is taken for the floor-to-ceiling drapes, the silk pattern in the living heavy and rich, whereas those in the large kitchen is yellows with a floral print. Yeah, I know this is a lot of info, but it’s worth noting. When you’re on the road for a while, or if it’s your one trip a year, you want the experience to be memorable. Would you rather pay four grand a night at the Four Seasons, or go for two weeks on that same amount of money and have this type of authentic, Hungarian experience? The good news is you have the option and know it’s attainable if you want it.

Best brunch we had–three days out of the four!



What I liked best

The convenience, cost, elegance, safety and vibe of the area. Oh! I can’t forget Café Brunch Budapest. It has several locations, one just below our apartment on the corner. We literally came back from Austria one day (about an hour drive) to get more blueberry muffins for Porsche, they were that good. (we got six).

The café (UL), how fried eggs are made in Hungary (meat added) and the mother-of-muffins which we crossed country lines to get.



What I liked least

This building has a few rentals like ours, but most units are privately owned. Our internet was the worst we’ve had in a month of travel—so bad I couldn’t load a single thing—not a picture or a document at all. We learned from the management that the owner is paying 300 Euro a month for service: Rog told him he was getting raked. Television reception was also horrid, which was too bad since the flat screens were monstrous and deserved to be used. But both were ok; I took a break from doing anything productive, and the lack of tv ensured we got out early and went to bed when we got home.

Feature photo: the Danube taken from the bridge

Listening to the Spirit

Preparing and receiving spiritual guidance

Some people go to the mountains or lakes to receive heavenly help. Others kneel in prayer, go on long-term juice fasts, while others do nothing at all, believing nothing exists but our own world, and even if God lives, us humans are too insignificant to warrant a thought.

In his talk on The Windows of Light and Truth, Joseph B. Wirthlin said that: “We must become skilled in using the spiritual windows to receive personal revelation for ourselves and our families.” Sometimes, family members and caring leaders provide guidance, yet this can be colored with personal motivations, self-interest or misunderstanding of the situation details.

Personal revelation is not an entitlement,
and it is not passive. It is an active state of mind and demands faith. Each
phase of the process requires something of us: 1) a desire to ask, 2) a
willingness and open heart to listen, and 3) the obedience and courage to obey.

The scriptures of many faiths indicate that manifestations of the Spirit come to the mind in a variety of ways. They come in impressions and promptings, dreams, visions, visitations, by way of counsel from leaders and as what has been described as enlightenment and pure intelligence.

Consider the concept of enlightenment

Steve Jobs is a great example of this: he
considered a problem, and credited bursts of enlightenment as the source of his
ideas. That led to great innovations which have impacted the world over. Contrast
that temporal example with that of the Prophet Joseph Smith, who often talked
about pure intelligence flowing within, giving him sudden strokes of ideas.

When I was fourteen, my father asked me to accompany
him on a ward visit. I wrote and rewrote my talk, the tension and worry
increasing for the two weeks prior. The night before, I was crying with
frustration that all my preparation had yielded only fractured thoughts. I said
a fervent prayer, asking the Lord for help. Within moments of closing the
prayer, my mind cleared, and I wrote an entirely new and different talk in a single
session. The next day, following the talk, my father remarked he knew he’d been
inspired to ask me. I honestly don’t recall what I said, because those weren’t
my words. That experience cemented my testimony of personal revelation, the
role of the Lord and the concept of enlightenment of the spirit.

Bruce R. McConkie said that we have the responsibility to seek solutions first for our own problems. It will always involve effort on our part. Elder McConkie expressed it this way: “We are to solve our own problems and then to counsel with the Lord in prayer and receive a spiritual confirmation that our decisions are correct.”

Receiving an answer from the Lord requires a
few key elements:

Obedience. President John Taylor said it is the first
rule in heaven, and Elder Wirthlin said “nothing closes the door of personal
revelation faster than disobedience.”Receptiveness of mind and submissiveness to the will of the Lord is also required for personal revelation, because as it states In D
& C 63:64, the Lord requests “the heart and a willing mind.”

In my 20’s, I was a divorced, single mother, working in the technology industry. My life was just getting settled and financially stable. The company I worked for had sold and I fulfilled a lifelong dream of starting a magazine.  Yet I was feeling unsettled and didn’t know why. I kept asking the Lord to give me direction to ease the discomfort I felt.  Months went by until one night, I made a conscious decision to change my prayer. I added the words…’According to thy will’, and that I’d do whatever was asked. The following morning at 8:15 a.m., I received a call from a recruiter offering me a position at a start-up firm in Silicon Valley. I knew immediately that the call was direction from the Lord. I’d asked, he’d answered, and now I had to Act.

Conform to God’s will. Alma
exhorted us to “be humble and submissive at all times.” 

Pioneer Brigham Young said that most people fail during the final 10% of the journey. In other words, they inquire of the Lord, receive the answer, but can’t do what the Lord has asked. In my case, The Lord answered my prayer by asking me to sell my home, close down my new business, leave my support system and move—all in two weeks. In his wisdom, he let me reach a mental, emotional and spiritual state where I could both hear the answer but act on it.

Stand in Holy Places: This is
critical in times of need. Are we in a place at all times to be hear the quiet
whisperings of the Lord?  Men in particular have a solemn
responsibility to stand in Holy Places in order to call upon the powers of
the priesthood when needed.

Fast forward seven years. I’d met and married the man who has now been my husband or 20 years. He joined and left the gospel within the first twenty-four months of our marriage. I knew he was the reason I’d been moved to San Francisco, but at I was at the point of giving up on the marriage.  I simply could not understand why the Lord would bless me with success but give me such absolute personal heartache. Again, for months, I received no direction or solace, despite fervent prayers. I was at my end.

One weekend, I attended a conference of financial executives. As I sat listening to the keynote speaker, I read his background. Below his list of accomplishments, and a Harvard MBA, was an undergraduate degree from BYU. I had the immediate impression to seek him out for a blessing. Now, imagine going up to someone, giving an introduction and asking for a special prayer on my behalf, but that’s exactly what I did. Waiting for a few minutes after the session was over, I touched his arm, and asked if he was a priesthood holder in good standing. He was surprised, but said yes. It took a few minutes to find a room, and he asked me few basic questions, then gave me a blessing with specific direction and details of my life known only by the Lord, It gave me the strength to see me through the following tumultuous years of my life, which included cancer and being told I’d never have children. But all the while, I knew that I was where I needed to be, with the man who needed to be by my side, and it was directly from the Lord. That knowledge sustained me through very rough times. Men, please honor the gift of the priesthood. You never know when you will be called upon to be the answer to someone else’s prayer.

Pray with faith, humility, sincerity and intensity.

Years later, I was able to conceive and keep
my oldest daughter. One afternoon, at about six-months, I lifted her out of the
crib and as I walked down the stairs, noticed she wasn’t sleeping but motionless
and not breathing. By the time I reached the bottom, I was near hysteria. I
thought through my options. As I lived outside the city limits, an ambulance
wouldn’t arrive in time. My doctor couldn’t help over the phone and I had no
idea what to do. As I cried, begged and pleaded with the Lord for guidance, a visual
and specific words came to my mind. “Turn her on her side and hit her back,
hard.” I laid her on the kitchen counter in the exact manner I had visualized,
and hit her back with strength, all the while crying and praying. It took many
seconds, but she started breathing again.

Richard G. Scott said that personal revelation, or answers to prayers, comes with different forms.

When He answers yes, it is to give us confidence.

When He answers no, it is to prevent error.

When he withholds an answer, it is to have us grow through faith
in Him, obedience to His commandments, and a willingness to act on truth.

I’ll share one last example on this point. After living in the Bay Area, we moved to Seattle. After a dozen years, Roger and I started to feel as though we should move. It was the same unsettled feeling that I’d had nearly two decades prior. We began looking for homes in and around the area, then extended this to five states. We made offers that were turned down for no reason, or homes failed inspection. After four years, we gave up, reconciled to feeling unsettled. We put all our energy and time into making our property our dream environment. No sooner had we completed the last bathroom, that I was sitting on a rock by the pond, admiring all that we had created, and I had this distinct feeling come over me that I would soon be leaving. I’ll admit, I cried for an hour. Why was it, I wondered, that the Lord didn’t tell us before we spent the time, effort and money to make it our dream home?

A thought came to me. “And he dwelt in a tent.” If the Lord asked Prophet Lehi, and those called before him, to give it all up all he had and live in a tent, then who am I to refuse the direction of the Lord, especially after we’d been asking for years?

While I don’t know all the reasons why CDA
was chosen, I know the Lord will reveal it in time, and I must be patient.

As you can see, personal revelation has been
at pivotal at key points of my life, guiding, directing and supporting my
journey, and these are just a few. The Lord’s direction and love is available
for all of us, at any time.

It is my testimony that direct answers to prayers and personal revelation is the key to us enduring our challenges, providing us direction, and helping us focus our talents and energies in the way our Heavenly Father wants for the benefit of ourselves and our loved ones around us.

I hope sharing this with you, my readers,
has turned you closer to feeling, hearing and acting upon the promptings of the
Spirit that is within you.

Christ and Devin Castle, Slovakia: a historical significance like no other

When doing a search for old ruins and castles, Slovakia came up as the number one spot. By number one, I mean oldest. Devin Castle, on the corner of Slovakia within the township of Devin. The castle is widely considered to have predated any other structures still standing. Overlooking the might Danube on a jutting piece of rock, Devin Castle is also thought to have been visited by Christ during his ministry, but some ruins have been traced back to the 5th century BC, 400 year before the celts arrived. We visited it several years ago, and wanted to take another look, as well as eat at the same restaurant at the base of the entrance.

Slovakia itself is a shocker to the system if you’ve been used to seeing the colorful, modern (or old) buildings of the surrounding countries. Cold war-era high-rise apartment buildings are stacking together, side by side and austere. Some are fainted bright colors, but most are grey and lifeless. It’s not until you see the women pushing strollers or the road bikers peddling along the sidewalk does the city of Bratislava warm up. One left off the A4 and one is right in town, another left, following the signs to Devin and the scenery changes once again. Suddenly, the road is waterside, the trees arch over the street and it becomes positively suburban, homes hidden behind gates or dense bushes on both sides of the two-lane road continue until the small town of Devin is reached.

Cold war era buildings are dominant in the skyline upon entering Slovakia. This changes immediately when leaving the city center.



Parking, country fair and food

The parking/entrance for Devin Castle can be reached two ways from the main street and Google maps provides both. If you miss the first left, going a half a mile through town gives you another opportunity to turn left, but the visual of the castle above you nearly enough for self-guidance. This year, a county fair occupied the open grass fields. Pony rides, farm animals, games that I can’t describe in local terms occupied an area half a football field in length and width. It was a warm day, so many were in bathing suits, taking advantage of the inlets of the Danube River just feet away.

The transition from city to suburb is immediate and profound. About ten minutes of this lovely drive and you are in Devin, Slovakia.







Devin is your classic, quaint small town.

The entrance fee is consistent as most of the other castles, about 30 Euro for a family of four. The walk up is easy and takes about twenty minutes, but may be longer due to the goats on the hillside who know how to play the visitors for food. Entertainers dressed in period clothing sword fight, sing and play instruments alongside a few store fronts, also in period. Word to the wise: bring cash because credit cards aren’t accepted.

Not much further is the protected area where Christ was thought to have taught. After 2,000 years, it’s not much more than the stone foundation where a building once stood, but this is preserved by a new building that’s been built around it so visitors can enter and take their time in the area. A fence bordering the area provides one more measure against future degradation.

A short walk from the parking lot and you arrive at the ticket & main gate entrance.

Exiting this structure, it’s another five-minute walk to the main castle. Unlike the majority of castles we’ve been to in our travels, the road up has nary a tree to provide relief from the heat. The great news is also unlike other castles, this one offers free, cold water at the top thanks to a fountain and beautiful (also free) bathrooms! What a relief, figuratively and literally. From the center courtyard (and well, which is impressive itself because somehow they dug down hundreds of feet, through rock), you can go left (west) to one of the ramparts and look across the river and valley beyond. To the right of the courtyard is the larger structure, though much of it is off limits. Just last year, a new metal walkway was added, allowing for an unobstructed view, which previously was availably only from the other tower. The distance between the two is less than a five-minute walk.

Building on the highest peak, the tallest rock never fails to get an appreciative picture.



Time for food

Notice how all my castle write-ups include food at the end? While we have a meal in the morning, castle exploration is hard work, especially since it nearly always involves some sort of climb, further walking, then the descent. Is it any wonder we eat like bears coming out of hibernation at the end of it all?

Readers will often make quirky faces when remarking on my choice of photos, until I call them out with question: you mean, why don’t I always post glamour shots of places? It’s because I personally am so sick of seeing “the perfect shot.” I want to know what a place looks like when I drive up, or am walking, or looking down. And I have no interest in brushing my hair, standing the right way or whatever. When it comes to food, I whip out my iPhone (usually), not my Nikon, snap and eat. I’m a focused girl; I want my meal warm. It helps when it’s pretty, but I’m not going to spend a moment worrying about it.

The reward for visiting Devin Castle is (name here) located riverside to the Danube. You can’t see the river through the dense trees, but it’s there because you just saw it, and the water can be heard. We’ve had the pork knee (sounds gross, but it’s a pound of goodness) Slavic burgers, goulash, their version of cheese sticks and several types of soups. The portions are monstrous and the prices are McDonalds. A $100 meal in the US comes out to roughly fifty dollars, including drinks.

Double boar meat hamburger with cucumbers (Rog and Porsche raved), my Slovakian goulash and previous picture–chicken wings, Slovakian style.

Drones are allowed, and Rog flew his from the parking lot. I forgot to note that he was able to fly his drone in all the castles we’ve visited (hence the shots), because they aren’t regulated in most of these areas. How wonderful!

If you’re going to make the trip, be sure to stop here. You may be tempted to try the hotel across the street, but this is “more local,” if you will.



What I love about Devin Castle

It’s the only castle I know of that mentions Jesus in the historical records. For a person who’s never been to Israel, it may be as close as I get to being in the same vicinity as Jesus. The view is unreal, and the food at the bottom of the castle shouldn’t be missed.

Parking lot, restaurant and Devin Castle, in that order. See, wasn’t that helpful?



What I don’t

Nothing really. It’s so modest, there’s nothing to give tours over—so natural beauty and ruins are there to be enjoyed.

Want to spend the night, go hiking, biking or rent a boat on the Danube? This hotel is the one and only at the base of the castle.



Recommendation

If you are within 100 miles of Bratislava (which means lots of places stretching from Hungary to Austria), put it on the must-visit list.

When I’m really happy, I look slightly possessed. Sorry about that, but not sorry about being really happy. Note: if you see the upper right castle-that’s the part mostly closed due to instability. It’s the left hand side that’s one of two areas open to tour.



Feature photo: taken on site. If you want to see the areal view shot from the drone, go to my Instagram account at sarahgerdes_author. It provides a much better view of the castle grounds and surrounding area.

Eat your way through the charming town of Cesky Krumlov

If you only skim my blogs or books, you will understand two things about my approach to food: use real butter and if you’re going to take in a lot of calories, make each one count. The town of Cesky Krumlov (and overall, the CZ culture) abides by both of these rules. As we’ve returned time and again to Cesky, we eagerly await the next new place we’re going to find culinary nirvana. This trip didn’t disappoint.

A waterwheel, a bridge and the literal sound of music



Krumlovsky Mlyn







The same bridge, across from the waterwheel. Streams flow to and through the town, each one a picture-perfect snap opportunity. The Krumlovsky is just the right, opposite side (not pictured).

We heard the music first, drawn across the famed waterwheel bridge. The first image was a ten-foot diameter wood, wheel lighting fixture. Just below him and to the right was the source of the music, a silver haired man with a crooked back played piano, to his left, a medieval oven with its clay vent stretching to the ceiling roasted several times of meat (entire pig included) and we took a seat at an open bench. The Hungarian waiter, who we learned speaks six languages, including English amazing well, helped us out, but it was somewhat unnecessary. The menu offered both Hungarian and English; common enough in the town overall.

Big, warm and cozy. Riverside dining with views directly to the castle also available (not pictured), although I took a few snaps from the castle, looking down to the restaurant.







The Krumlovsky restaurant is mid-photo, dark roof. The bridge is to the left, just past the pinkish building.







Hungarian goulash (UR), the house special of pork meats, sauerkraut and potatoes (LL) and the dessert of potato pancakes with lingonberry syrup (LR). The steak tartar was incredible but we ate it too fast to take pictures!







Proud chef, happy customer



Shopping

Stuffed beyond comfort, we agreed to walk for a while. As we made our way through the narrow streets, (only the main road allows for cars) Rog and I agreed the majority of shops in and around the most castle zones are geared towards tourists, e.g. shop owners think we will be affected by some euphoric haze of stupidity, willing to spend twice as much for the privilege of saying: I got this at X castle.

The largest street in Cesky Krumlov. The rest are carriage-wide lanes.

Thankfully, the town of Cesky does not swallow this pill of delusion, in fact, one is hard pressed to find the souvenir shops with the standard postcards, keychains and country pins. The town has kept the retail stores authentic, consistent with our last visit four years ago. One example is a shortbread retailer, who uses a 600-year-old recipe to produce cookies so intricate that could be framed and placed on a wall, not eaten. We didn’t feel morally right about spending eating a five-dollar work of art, but did indulge in a 1 dollar (all equivalent currency, for they use the CZ krona). It was divine.

Shortbread and liquors- one I tried, the other I didn’t; both proudly displayed by their creators in boutique retail shops.

Next to this is a honey and wine provider, with a wall full varieties
to be tasted for a krona each (about .25 cents). It’s so much fun to wander
along cobblestone streets when the people who sell the product make the
product. No, this isn’t true 100% of the time, but it’s dominant. You aren’t
going to find big retail chains here, although several boutique stores did
offer Fendi, Prada and a few other name brands. I stepped in to one, just to
check it out. A pair of slip on athletic shoes I happened to be wearing
(Michael Kors) were $140 in the states. Here, at this shop, they were the $260.
Clearly, they didn’t get the memo about not jacking up the price.

But that was anomaly, and I don’t come overseas to purchase items we can get back home. The whole point is to think and be different.

She looks awfully happy for a mannequin.



The street performer and the kiss

If you are in Prague at the Astronomical Square, a dozen different street performers fill the air with their acts. Here, there was one amongst the dozens of narrow streets. An older man spun his metal lever, drawing in kids and a few adults interested in playing the centuries-old device. I’m always up for a new experience and went for it. The man was so cute, reminding me an elf with a squish, wizened face of happiness. My laughing made him giggle (thought in the picture he looked unsure). I gave him a kiss at the end, the girls shocked by seeing me landing a plant on another man. The next ten minutes as we walked down the lane was trying to explain why kissing the mushy face of a seventy-year-old and did not qualify as cheating on my husband. My nine-year-old pointed out that the man blushed at my kiss and smiled. “Doesn’t that count.” Oh, to be so wonderfully naïve. It wasn’t until we rounded the corner, walking along the rivers edge did the girls tire of the subject of mom kissing a complete stranger.

He’s definitely uncertain about the American girl, but I warmed him up nicely with a friendly smooch.