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brunoimyourgorilla · 3 years

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Kids Books About Diversity

Most of the information here on The Educational Tourist website is about reading before visiting specific places, but this post is all about diversity that you can find anywhere – during your travels to far flung places or during local adventures to your grocery store, school, and church. Diversity is what the world is all about and helping children navigate that diversity in a positive way is a great way to set them up, and really to set us all up, for success!!

What is Diversity, anyway?

So what is diversity, really? How do we explain that to children? One of my favorite explanations is to use visuals. I like to show a field of one type of flower and comment on how pretty it is when all the flowers are the same.

But, if an insect doesn’t like this one type of flower, then they’ll be hungry. And this flower only blooms for a certain amount of time, what about the time it isn’t blooming? Then I show them a photo like this one:

In this photo everyone could find a flower they like, and a flower that blooms at a different time so there is always a beautiful flower to be enjoyed.

There is diversity in all parts of the world. Biodiversity in plants and animals helps the planet work properly. People are diverse, too. We all have different preferences for food, clothes, music, religion, and so forth. We speak different languages and have different ideas.

While we have lots of differences we are really more alike than different. We all want to live happily in peace with our friends and family. Everyone wants to feel safe and loved and have enough to eat.

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Reading About Diversity Before a Trip

Improve your trip AND your child’s intelligence:

We want children to remember, internalize, and make these experiences part of their core being! When a child learns something they add to their schema, or background knowledge, which will help them in their education until the end of time. Layering the learning by introducing information and then showing it to them on a vacation is the best way to internalize information. Use travel to get smarter and improve skills for the kids in the family!

“Reading is at the heart of all formal education.”

A GREAT way to get the wheels turning and introduce information about your adventure destination AND improve your child’s intelligent and academic educational success is reading. Stories with familiar characters or beloved animals will pave the way for learning – really learning about the new culture they are going to experience. Read kids’ books set in London or listen with an audiobook. Check out my lists for other destinations, too like Italy, Paris, Hawaii, New York City, Caribbean, Greece, San Francisco, Italy, Colombia, Canada, and Spain.

Need more proof that reading is valuable? A study published in the Economic Journal shows that ‘boys with easy access to books tend to have higher incomes when they become adults than their counterparts who grow up with few or no books by their side’ and “Men who grew up in households filled with books earn 21 percent more..”. So, read before your trip! It will be fun AND will make your kiddo smarter and wealthier in the long run.

Read at bedtime and have sweet dreams about your upcoming trip! Or download to an IPAD or Kindle and read on the loooooooooooong flight over. These are perfect for any storytime before, during, and after a trip, too.

Capitalize on your child’s interest and incorporate those into your next adventure. Choosing a book on something they already like will help get them interested in your family’s adventure! There are literally a million to choose from, but don’t despair. I have spent hours and hours reading books, reading summaries, reading reviews, reading about authors, reading about all topics related to diversity SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO!

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Teacher’s Picks for Kids’ Books about Diversity

All are Welcome by Alexandra Penfold and Suzanne Kaufman

All Are Welcome by Alexandra Penfold and Suzanne Kaufman is a beautiful story about inclusion and diversity. In this story, all children are welcome and learn about each other’s cultures and lives while showing respect for each other. The repeated refrain, “All are welcome here.” is a calming mantra in the current divisive times of our nation. A must read to introduce the idea that we are all more alike than we are different. Though written for kindergarten through 3rd grade students, even the older children will appreciate the message and it is a good introduction to the school year or a unit or inclusion and diversity. Fabulous before a trip where you’ll meet and mingle with people different from your own family. Pages: 44, Lexile Measure: AD370l.

Same, Same, but Different by Jenny Sue Kostecki-Shaw

Pen pals from different lands learn that while they do have some differences, they really are very much the same. Great book for teaching kids to look for accepting the diversity of human similarities in others. We are so much more alike than we are different. Written for kids aged 4-7 years old, but can be enjoyed by all elementary school students. Pages: 40 Lexile level: AD460L

It’s OK to be different by Sharon Purtu

It’s OK to be different by Sharon Purtu is a favorite among teachers for reinforcing the idea that different is not just OK but part of what makes the world beautiful. Teaching diversity with books is a great way to get a conversation started. Written for kids aged kindergarten through 3rd grade but can easily be used up through elementary school. Pages: 28.

Sulwe by Lupita Nyong

Sulwe by Lupita Nyong is my personal favorite for teaching about diversity. The gorgeous book is about accepting yourself, even if you are ‘different’ and understanding how your ‘different’ beauty makes the world a better place Written for young elementary aged children, but as is usually the case, these pictures books lend themselves well to older children as well. I recommend it for kids up through elementary school. Pages: 48. Lexile measure: AD580L

Older kids really enjoy connecting with the author. I showed this interview with Lupita Nyong to my students. It helps them see that authors are real people and that even famous people can have struggles like you and me.

One Big Heart by Linsey Davis

AWARDS won:

Good Morning America’s Anchors’ Favorite Book Picks of 2019 — Good Morning America

Outreach Magazine’s ‘Best Books of the Year’ Youth Category’ March 2020 — Outreach Magazine

Plugged In Magazine’s ‘Top 10 Family-Friendly Picture Books from 2019’ — Plugged In Magazine

Risen Magazine’s ‘8 Titles for Toddlers to Tweens During Quarantine’ — Risen Magazine

‘Notable Christian Children’s Books by Authors of Color’ July 2020 — ChristianBestsellerList.com (ECPA)

One Big Heart by Linsey Davis, an award winning new journalist, is a great way to start a conversation about how people have a lot in common. Diversity is a critical element of education now. Teaching children to look for commonalities instead of differences will help get us back to a kinder and more gentle world which is something we desperately need. Written for kids ages 4-8. Pages: 32

Acceptance is my Super Power by Alicia Ortega

Acceptance is my Super Power by Alicia Ortega has such a lovely idea. Imagine if the world rewarded kindness and acceptance of our diversity! Written for elementary school aged kids this lovely book is a great conversation opener with older kids, too. Pages: 44 pages.

We ALL Belong by Nathalie and Alex Goss

We ALL Belong by Nathalie and Alex Goss is a book that belongs in every classroom. Teachers love this sort of opener for the year or the semester to remind kids that we all belong – in the same world and in the same classroom. Diversity is beautiful. Great ideas for our troubled world. Written for kids aged up to 12 years old. Pages: 39.

Hair Like Mine by LaTashia M.Perry

Hair Like Mine by LaTashia M. Perry is about a little girl who doesn’t enjoy her curls. As she looks around for someone who shares her curls she finds out we are all different and fabulous. Written for elementary school aged kids, this book will be loved by all. Pages: 32. Lexile Measure: 560L.

***This book has a sequel!

Skin Like Mine by Bea Jackson

I am Whole by Shola Oz

I Am Whole by Shola Oz is a book about a little girl’s journey to discovering that all the things together make her beautiful. We can all look at our unique and diverse backgrounds and enjoy how they make use unique and special. Great conversation opener for even the older kids. Written for elementary school aged kids. Pages: 24.

Chocolate Milk Por Favor by Maria Dismondy

Chocolate Milk Por Favor by Maria Dismondy is a sweet book about a little boy who arrives in his new school not speaking the language. The teacher uses empathy to help her students communicate with the boy and celebrate the diversity in their classroom. Written for kids aged 4-11. Pages: 32. Lexile measure: 500L.

The Cloverleaf Books – Alike and Different is a series on diversity. Great books handle each part of life and all the many beautiful combinations it can have. Great discussion points. Use with any age up through elementary school.

My Food, Your Food by Lisa Bullard

My Family, Your Family by Lisa Bullard

My Home, Your Home by Lisa Bullard

My Language, Your Language by Lisa Bullard

Interested in Adding Children’s Books on Diversity to Your School Library?

Are you interested in adding these children’s books on diversity to your school library? Have you ever written a grant for such things? Me neither, but ‘Nothing Venture, Nothing Gained”, right? Now is the time!

Take a look at the grant for adding books to your library: Snapdragon Book Foundation. Follow the directions and give it a shot. Maybe you’ll get the grant to add these wonderful kids’ books on diversity to your school library.

If you are traveling with the kids, be sure to read about your destination before you go! You’ll layer the learning and get the wheels of imagination turning before you even arrive.

Where to next?

Kids’ Books on Hawaii

Kids’ Books on Canada

Kids’ Books about New York City

Kids’ Books about Italy

The post Kids Books About Diversity appeared first on The Educational Tourist.

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worldcakecakecake · 4 years

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On Deutschland and Italia by Lovino Valenti

Lovino writes a series of blog entries on the relationship between Germany and Italy as he deals with a move to Hamburg, his brother’s wedding, and his budding romance (which he denies) to the infuriating Gilbert Beilschmidt.

Chapter 6

On Deutschland and Italia.

Educational Exchanges.

I studied in Italy, while my brother did a semester in Germany. We can assure you that in these institutions there is a promotion to study in each other’s countries. There are constantly discussions forums, research on common historical facts, festivals, new ones each week. I was asked many times to guide the German students around Italy, while my brother happily joined whatever excursion offered to Italians to understand more of Germany.

We offer each other a special kind of comfort, with warm welcomes that could even remind of home. I guess this is why we always go back to being Germany’s number one holiday destination from time to time.

I’m aghast by the amount of Italians that actually enjoy going to Germany, romanticizing it that perfect holiday destination.

Sometimes we make it so easy for them and then they make it easy for us, as it is established in my last few blog entries. We give a perfect exchange that I believe it to be fair and just. The offerings are for one to help themselves, and I myself might soon fall into that very welcome.

“You wanted white, didn’t you?” Lovino heavily questioned.

“I did, but…I’m afraid that it will put me too much in the ‘bride’ position,” Feliciano wondered, still eyeing the white suits with question.

“To tell you the truth, white would better suit you than black.” As Feliciano changed between a black and white suit on the mirror before him, he realized that his brother’s words were right.

“…I don’t want to go with this typical cut though.” Most white suits held it and he didn’t want to be wearing what any other could on such a day. He wanted to be an image that Ludwig could well keep in his head for the rest of their lives.

“We just have to keep looking. I’m sure they’ll have something,” Lovino smiled and Feliciano felt confidence in it, putting the two suits he held back and getting deeper into the store hoping to find that exactly.

Lovino, originally was going to use this as a chance to hijack and get Feliciano to choose the ugliest thing possible…but today, he didn’t feel that wish of ruin, instead with happier moods that wanted to help. Compassion and love for his younger brother shined today, over hatreds against matches and Beilschmidts. Indeed it was to be a memorable day for his brother…he didn’t deserve to be wearing something so ridiculous, when he had the composure, shine and beauty to wear the best any seamstress or tailor had. He would be true, he would help him find that suit that would get Ludwig surely drooling that day. Luckily, they had this store alone for them. The tailor was Italian and a good friend of their father, his shop tucked away from the usual toll of city center life. It was such a sweet place with wonders to see, calm, surely with no expectance of another and so Feliciano and Lovino could well spend their day there.

Lovino heard the ring of entrance, rolling his eyes expecting yet another couple ready to annoyingly fill the air with their own questions and presence. By the sound of the footsteps, it was only one person, and by the nearing this person took, right beside Lovino, it was someone familiar.

“Ludwig is going in black,” the voice announced, Lovino startled to find Gilbert in his vicinity, smiling with his deep pride as always. For once, Lovino didn’t attack it instantly, only but a small glare before he turned back to the store…wondering where his brother went now.

“Why should I care?”

Gilbert shrugged, “maybe you want to help your brother match. Italians worried about fashion and all.”

“Feliciano can decide whatever the hell he wants. I’ll just make sure he looks good.”

“Well, I can assure you my Ludwig will have him dropping his mouth,” he decreed sure.

“Hmph,” Lovino challenged with a smirk, daring, attractive, charming, for a moment Gilbert was swayed. “We’ll see about that.”

They lay in mellow silence, for once not at all burning and deadly.

“What are you doing here anyways?” Lovino could utter.

“To be honest, I was hoping we could do some more tricks.”

“Not with Feliciano’s wedding suit. He actually deserves to look amazing that day.” This beloved sweetness Gilbert found rather endearing. He grinned at it and for once Lovino didn’t mind it.

“Then I’m here to offer my help!”

“You?” There was large insult, Lovino staring him down, judging the very baggy purple hoodie, the red shirt underneath and the tight black jeans, all a disaster in his vision. And he wanted to offer his help looking like that? “Feliciano and I can do well by ourselves,” he was sure.

“Hear me out! I just went yesterday with Ludwig to get his own suit along with everything else he’ll wear that day. I know how he’ll look.”

“Come on, actually leave that a surprise for the wedding.”

“I won’t say anything, I’m just suggesting to help, so Feliciano can match amazingly well with Ludwig.” He had a point that Lovino could understand, but he was still clearly hesitant, needing more words than that. “I know how hard this can get, even my brother needed like three other opinions before he decided on the one he got. I care a lot for Feliciano and I intend to help him look his best as well. Please, just let me join you.”

It was the plead that had Lovino smiling at him, accepting and decided. “Well, come on then. The more we do something about it, the earlier we can leave.”

Although indeed surprising, Feliciano happily welcomed Gilbert’s encouragement and so the three settled in diving to the necessary depths of the tailor shop to find the perfect treasured wear. Although it took nearly an hour, they managed a pile of contenders, Gilbert and Lovino going as far as organizing them by numbers. They had Feliciano try every single one of them, at one point hilariously sitting down with notes they made on their phones, shouting and clapping as if this was some high fashion runaway. It eased well Feliciano, who laughed loud and began to enjoy from this instead of the stress it had started as. He turned, he winked, threw kisses and made himself believe a fashion icon and overall, they enjoyed their time.

And then Feliciano came out in…it. The moment wasn’t a joke, what Lovino and Gilbert held was true impression, and Feliciano…he felt comfortable in it, great, like it was meant to be his, spinning and dancing himself with it for the longest while.

Yes…he could imagine being held in Ludwig’s arms like this, being his star, his shine. Gilbert and Lovino understood that feeling of being lost in dream and so they let Feliciano in that starry trip.

They still had a couple of other suits to go through, but they knew well which one was decided, Feliciano holding it dear in his arms when the moment came to choose. There were still some things he wanted to fix from it, so they scheduled another appointment with the tailor to work on it, but they pretty much had something important checked out from their list.

As celebration, they headed out for a drink, the three spending wonderful company, in chats and laughter that Feliciano did not expect he would share with Gilbert and Lovino together. In their table, there never came a moment where Feliciano had to worry about firing fights that could end in punches. No, it was all an ease, if it ever reached that point, it was playful, only earning mocking hits from Lovino against Gilbert’s shoulder.

This was another touch to make the day perfect, wonderful. Oh, how he hoped it could grow.

In that moment Feliciano saw so much potential.

It was a day much like any other, one the soon to wed couple could relax in, for once not planning anything but just spending a lazy day on their apartment. Feliciano sketched anatomy practice, and Ludwig was checking some things they could do in the Dominican Republic for once they moved there. They lay together in peace, silent, wishing nothing else for the moment.

“You have to see these beaches in Punta Cana,” Ludwig wanted to show, passing the phone so Feliciano could see such clear blues.

It was in that exact moment that he received a call, the name showing his boss, which he knew he had to quickly answer to. He apologized to Feliciano and went to the kitchen to properly speak. The usual greetings were exchanged, but in a matter of seconds, it soured, showed in Ludwig’s expression and his insulted, “what?”

They fought, quick and agitated, many times Ludwig slapping his hand against the counter, firing and holding himself from wording a strong insult. In the hurry the German was spoken in, Feliciano could barely understand it, but from the bits he got, it was bad, bad as in whatever plans they had were about to deeply change bad. When Ludwig hanged up, without a proper goodbye to his superior, he gripped the phone tightly, Feliciano wondering if he was to hurl it against the wall. He let it go so it wouldn’t happen, breathing and turning to sit once again in the couch beside Feliciano, hoping it could do well to quickly calm.

“What…happened?” Yet Feliciano deeply wondered, sitting up and taking Ludwig’s hand in comfort, ready to hear.

He sighed, “the company has gone bankrupt.”

“What?” Feliciano couldn’t understand it. It was doing so fine! Reaching points throughout Europe, Africa and Asia. This deal Ludwig participated in would bring it to the Caribbean, helping the islands prosper with their transportation. “But you were all doing so well! How could this have happened?”

“My boss didn’t hire the best people to deal with the sales department. Apparently, they were hiding that we weren’t getting any money to start new projects. They have to cut down on a lot to be able to save something of the company. Starting in the Caribbean is now out of the question.” Ludwig groaned and dropped more on the sofa, the news tiring and bringing a weigh to keep him laid. At least he was cuddled still with his beloved.

“But-but-but…we have already done so much to settle in Santo Domingo!” Feliciano couldn’t sit well on the sofa in turn. “We-we-we’ll, have to cancel everything! And-and settle here!”

“There’s nothing for me to turn to here in Germany,” Ludwig anguished.

“What do you mean? They can’t just take you out from your position here!”

“Feliciano, I was completely settled to go to the Dominican Republic and deal with everything there. They already gave and established my part here to another person.”

“And they can’t take you back!” Feliciano was indignant for him.

“Well…they suggested one thing.” Feliciano lay attentive and willing to listen. “They told me, if I’m willing to start a whole new part of the company for me to take control of, they’ll give me all the help I need.” Feliciano thought about it, but was still deeply questioned, wondering how it could affect them. Ludwig could see it well, “but unlike what was planned…I’ll start from zero and probably not get any kind of pay for months while I settle it.” He was already stressing at all the hard work he would have to do, something that Feliciano heavily disliked.

“I don’t think you should exhaust yourself like that and then struggle so much at our home,” he sighed, turning away, already unsettling for all the damages it would surely bring.

“It’s either that or doing the same here.” Ludwig was letting it well settle on Feliciano’s decision. He mattered more and he was willing to go wherever he claimed his words on.

“What about my volunteering?” He reminded. It was well settled, still standing and the other nurses that were to expect him were constantly sending him messages about his arrival.

“What do you want to do?”

“I do…want to keep it,” he was honest, yet showing it shy, knowing it just made things more complicated. “But Ludwig…it’s not paid…”

“What if you gave them a different offer?”

Feliciano sighed, “this is a low resource hospital.”

“Feliciano, we can’t just go there without having some money to fall on.”

They were lost, silenced, caught in a maze, but Feliciano was determined to go through. “I’ll…” he really shouldn’t be demanding anything from such a hospital, but… “see what I can do…I’ll talk to some of the other nurses and see what I can find. If I can’t get anything then…I don’t think we can go anywhere.” It will be breaking and disappointing, but Ludwig agreed to give him that time.

“It’s also best we don’t tell anyone in the meantime.”

“Why?” Feliciano thought they could use their families’ help.

“They’re worried as it is with both of us leaving. Your family doesn’t agree with that and they’re depending on me to take care and even sustain you. There’s also the wedding and…” the stress was strong in Ludwig’s tone.

Feliciano tried to ease it by taking a gentle hold of his hands. “We’ll figure something out.”

Ludwig smiled and they went into their embrace, trying to get back to the plan of leisure for the day.

On Deutschland and Italia.

Representation and Honesty.

In recent years, with this heavy structure of economy and diplomacy, there hasn’t been much positive representation of Italy’s state in the media abroad.

Germany, like Italy, has also gone through collapses, corruptions and questionable partnerships that end up costing millions of euros. But, the Germans managed to isolate all these situations, managing to keep an image of honesty and rigor, and so they are still seen as our current heroic European leader.

I really cannot defend Italy, as most of the time, the things they mention are tragically true. Yet sometimes Italians do try, from those in the homeland to those even in Germany or other countries. We form protests, we stand with our culture at the threat of trying to make us more like Germany. We speak out and try to defend how we can, but no matter how we do it, word, especially by the Germans, would be written against us saying that whatever is useless and will never be as helpful as we think.

I detest how sometimes these articles just go on and on with our faults and stir away from the main issue they were speaking on.

Not all Germans have this mindset, luckily, and you know what, there are Italians who prove to be just what the image abroad wants us to be. But in my situation, it is not the case.

I’ll admit, the Valenti and the Beilschmidts share a wonderful friendship and love that stand against these images, and I admit that the Beilschmidts will never ever do such a thing as to lie and tarnish us. And despite my personal opinions on the Beilschmidts, we would never betray or misuse of their trust.

It’s being well put in the line with my brother’s marriage to Ludwig, who both, more than anyone, would have to prove and be these very qualities that describe the family’s relationship. No uncertainties, no doubts and no lies.

We’re putting out a lot, but a lot of trust on them to know that they will take care of each other well.

“I actually really like the theme you chose,” Lovino admitted as he looked through the file on Feliciano’s tablet, admiring the golds, the pristine white fabrics and the brazen ornaments that gave it power and elegance. Feliciano didn’t answer, his glance on a large spiraled sponge cake, coated with red sprinkles, pink and white frosting, and of course, wonderful strawberries. He was drooling and trying to lean more, Lovino knowing he was fighting an inner battle to not eat it all in one gulp. But he was not doing this, he was just staring at it…quite blindly.

“Hey! Did you listen to me?” He had to shout, for Feliciano to shake and finally put his head on something else.

“Oh…so you really think it’s fine?” He smiled true like nothing happened.

“Are you all right?”

“Ye-yes, I-I’m fine, perfectly fine!”

And Lovino knew something really wasn’t. “Mhm…” clear unbelief.

“Yes, yes…everything is fine. Please don’t’ worry and let us actually…decide on a cake.” And now he could notice the cake he was spacing out into earlier. “Oh, this one looks great!”

“I don’t think it will match with the theme though.”

“Yeah, but it still looks cute.”

“Let’s focus on getting something that doesn’t look like were taking it to a kid’s slumber party.” Lovino stood and motioned Feliciano to a part of the bakery shop filled with more pristine cakes, shinning in bronze and gold, artistic flowers and seeming encrusted with jewelry when it was really frosting. They were all so gorgeous, Feliciano enamoring with every single one, making the decision harder.

“Oh, I can’t do this!” He looked strained as if he took a hardened headache.

“It’s just a cake. You just need three colors and if anything we can ask the baker to make us something new.”

“Okay, okay, but first we need some sort of idea.”

“Tall! Really tall! As in, touching the ceiling tall!” In came crashing Gilbert, wrapping an arm around each’s shoulder in greeting.

“Gilbert! Oh great, thanks for coming! We need all the help!” Feliciano lunged himself forward and took him in a tight and suffocating embrace, Gilbert tripping and losing his breath. For some reason, it drove Lovino nuts more so than usual, pulling Feliciano out rather harshly.

“Hey! Don’t swarm him like that! Feli, remember that you’re getting married.” Lovino was clearly annoyed.

“What…what was wrong? And I know I’m getting married, why do you think we’re here?”

“Don’t worry about it, Feli, he just got a little jealous is all.”

Feliciano chuckled while Lovino raged. “I did not!”

“He was Mad! Couldn’t stand us just hugging!” Gilbert dramatized.

“Oh, Lovino, don’t worry! I just needed comfort.”

“I wasn’t! I was just…I was just…” he truly did not understand.

“Don’t you worry, my gorgeous little…” and Gilbert plucked a strawberry from one of the cakes, stuffing it in Lovino’s mouth, a smirk and a near with a shadow that Lovino hoped was enough to cover the flush he grew. “Erdbeere. I’m all yours.” He was near to eating a piece from the fruit Lovino still held in his mouth, but he instead spit it out, hitting Gilbert straight in the eye.

“Oh hell no!”

Feliciano laughed and Gilbert tried to do so between the pain, trying to rid of whatever juice got in.

“I hope you gentlemen have made your decision and are intending to buy this cake,” came the figure towards them, scolding and meaning business as she pointed to the near rose cake Gilbert just took the fruit from. It was too pink for the party.

“Kandake!” Feliciano distracted, jumping and embracing, breaking her from this business and professionalism when she was a dear friend, one meant to even go to the wedding.

“Feliciano…we are meant to discuss this seriously,” yet she smiled and was near to jumping in excitement herself.

“Come on! We can have some fun and I could use some more help. Do you have something you’re sure me and Ludwig will like?” He took her hands like a plead.

“I narrowed it down to three choices to make it easier,” she winked, “but I know one of them will be the true one.”

“Then let’s go see them!”

“The sketches are in my office,” she led for him to come. “You two can stay here and see if there’s anything else you need,” she smiled as she headed behind Feliciano, both the men left perplexed and confused as to what to do.

“I’ll see if they have some other thing here.” Lovino went on to inspect, landing and leaning to an underwater sea themed one, beautiful, but surely not all to go with Feliciano’s wedding.

“What else is there to get? We just need one cake.” Gilbert found comfort in nearing to Lovino, leaning next to him and Lovino smiled, not glaring or tensing at his vicinity.

“We might need other sweets. Maybe Feliciano wants cupcakes, cookies and macaroons too.”

“Isn’t your family already gonna cook?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Are you going to spend the entire ceremony stuffing us?”

“Yeah, that’s the typical Italian wedding for you.”

Gilbert chuckled, “I thought you were doing it because you wanted Feliciano to use more money on the wedding.”

“No, I just know Feliciano would want it. He’s into that sort of thing.”

“No sabotaging.”

“I don’t want to ruin something that I’ll end up eating, anyways.” He thought that much ahead.

“Good call, but I mean, we could just do something to one of them and really ruin it for someone else.”

“Not Feliciano.”

“Nor Ludwig… How about my cousin Berwald?”

Lovino laughed, already imagining a great turning of expression on that man’s rather constant sterile face. “We’re definitely doing that!”

“We have to plan it out well though.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Lovino shrugged, holding still to a smile that Gilbert couldn’t help but keep his gaze on. But before Lovino could notice it, he had to omit more words as to distract his stare…as well as keep that grin.

“Just Berwald?”

“Yeah, we don’t need to make a bigger deal out of it. Despite everything I really think…Feliciano should enjoy that day.”

“I’ve been thinking the same about Ludwig…”

“Yeah…”

“What was the point of even trying to ruin it?”

“I guess to…make them grow apart so we wouldn’t have to…deal more with each other.” Any other time and they would have been proud to admit that, but now it was just beginning to look useless when something was opening up between them…and when they knew that their brothers were so happy with each other, seeing it much strongly as they awaited the day.

“We should get a cake for ourselves,” Gilbert recommended to keep from harsh thoughts.

Lovino laughed so lovingly again, “for what?”

“For no other reason than to just buy and eat a damn cake! Come on, we can come over to my place and stuff each other.”

Lovino raised an eyebrow, a new look in his eyes that made fires, “just of cake?”

Gilbert stunned, the fire heating him and leaving his tongue burned away from answers. But he couldn’t scorch, he grinned himself, coming nearer, helping better the flame. “Do you have any other suggestions?” Gilbert was near enough to spot the difference patches of gold and olive in Lovino’s eyes, tempted to lay his head against his curls.

“I don’t know…what can you offer?” And Lovino played, a lithe finger spreading only in the fabric of Gilbert’s sweater. It wasn’t even truly touching him and yet Gilbert felt in it a calling that moved his body closer, Lovino accepting that touch of their legs, the temptation in his eyes hinting at an intertwine.

“Um…plates, drinks, TV,” he shrugged, “my couch…my bed.”

“Your…bed?”

That smile had Gilbert at an edge he was happy to fall over. “Ye-yeah, my bed, I-I mean we could e-eat cake there, and uh…watch some TV, uh…I don’t know.” He was such a fool.

“I can think of a couple of other things.”

“Oh, do tell.” Eagerness even shone on his teeth, teeth Lovino wanted against him and he was close to simply pulling it forward, but he kept only the simple caress of his finger.

“Dimmed lighting.”

“Mhm.”

“Dancing and music…” whispered in such a melody.

“…ja.”

“Close to you…”

“Uhu…” Gilbert was nearing his arms around him, ready to make those words instant.

“You and me-”

“I got the cake!” Feliciano came like a storm into the room, washing away everything, his lightning being the picture he held high in his hand. It made Gilbert and Lovino notice, stuck under a spotlight that they did well to run away from, coming close to distract, looking at this cake that should be worth the washing away of this sudden passion.

It was rather simple, in white and cream with roses and glitters of gold. Gilbert and Lovino were honestly in awe.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Feliciano excited.

“It’s perfect.”

“And not excessive.”

“Yes! I just have to show it to Ludwig already! Come on, come on, we have to go now!”

“Don’t you have to place the order?”

“Already did!” Feliciano was off the door before he could notice the chuckle the elder brothers exchanged, stars in both their eyes and smiles that wished could say more.

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#on deutschland and italia by lovino valenti #prumano #prumano fanfiction #prumano fanfic #prumano fic

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lumiolivier · 3 years

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The Good Old Days Chapter 27: I Don't Want to Talk About It

A/N: I know. I know. I'm really late. I've had the kids a lot in the last few days and getting anything done has been next to impossible. But I'm going to leave this here. Hang in there, kids.

I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I just wanted to sleep today. I didn’t care if the building was burning down. Let me burn with it. Once it hit 6AM, I still had my eyes open. Even the tequila wasn’t enough to pull me under. I knew what was happening. Vanessa was about to get on a flight to the other side of the world and I was here. Without her. This was going to be a long six months. Especially if this was what every day was going to be like. I wouldn’t get to see her every day on my stoop when I come home. I wouldn’t pretend to not be disgusted when she’d eat coconut cream pie. I wouldn’t have my girl. And that killed me inside.

I’d have to manage. It’s not like I could tell her no. She was going whether I wanted her to or not. But what kind of scumbag asshole would I be if I told her no? That’s her life. I know I’m a part of it, but I wasn’t going to hold her back. If I let her go, she’ll come back to me if it’s meant to be. That six months of waiting, though? That’s going to be a private hell. And I’d hate every second. But I couldn’t let her know that. I’m glad she’s getting this trip to Italy. I’m happy she’s furthering her education. I just hate that I’m not there to see it. I thought I’d be ok. I really did. Turns out I was wrong.

“Francisco?” Mama tapped on the door, making sure to be gentle. God bless that woman, “Estas despierto?”

“Si, Mama,” I rolled over, trying my hardest to not let her see me sweat either. Mama was good for that kind of thing.

“Que es, mijo?” Mama sat at the edge of my bed with a hand on my shoulder. She knew. Dammit, she knew. She knew something was wrong. Of course, something was wrong. I just had to let my girl take off to Italy on her own.

“I’d rather not talk about it right now, Mama,” I shot her down, “If that’s alright with you. I’m really not in the mood.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed a little harder.

“I’m sure.”

“Ok…” Mama kissed the top of my head and left me alone. Huh…Something about that didn’t feel right. Mama caved far too early. Why? Why would she have done that? That’s not like her. One of her babies is hurting. Not only that, but it’s me. Huh…Something’s amiss. And I’m not sure how to feel about it. Maybe Mama’s learning not to hover. I just hope to all holy hell she’s not calling for backup. Because I know who she’d ask for backup and I don’t want to deal with the Old Man more than what I have to today. Nor do I want to deal with him early. I love the Old Man dearly, but…Not today.

Maybe I should just go back to sleep. Maybe if I sleep, I’ll feel better. Maybe if I sleep, it’ll make time go faster and it’ll be March when I wake up and everything will be better. And when I wake up, I’ll have a beautiful girl in bed with me that I’ll be able to call my fiancée. That’s wishful thinking, but still…It’d be nice. I shut my eyes and tried my hardest to force myself back to sleep. It’s not like I got much for it last night…This morning, if we’re going to get technical. I went to bed trashed last night. I knew that much was true. Because I had to. And where did that get me? Nowhere.

…I miss her already.

After a few minutes of going back and forth in my head about it, I just said fuck it and went back to sleep. It’s not like I’m going anywhere until later tonight anyway. A trip to Abuela would be a good idea, but she had the same nose for trouble Mama had. I wasn’t in the mood to talk. To much of anyone. Hell, if I was feeling brave, I’d go to the borderlands and hang out in the gentlemen’s club again. I’m sure I could stand hanging around Ricky for the day. That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. He seems like the type to have the same folksy wisdom the Old Man has from time to time.

When I woke up again, I heard assorted muttering in the living room. English, so it’s not necessarily Mama bitching at the TV. I couldn’t make out much of what was being said, but I don’t think it concerned me. It sounded like a woman’s voice, though. Other than Mama’s. But it didn’t sound like it was angry, so they’re getting along, whoever it was. Fuck it. It’s not like it concerned me. At least it wasn’t Mama calling in backup. At least it wasn’t the Old Man bouncing between hitting on Mama and being concerned for my well-being. So, what did I do? The only thing I felt like doing. I shut my eyes again and went back to sleep. It’s not like I’ll be able to sleep tonight, but what else is new?

However, I heard the door squeak open. I had a feeling it was just Mama making sure I was still breathing, but I didn’t need to deal with a line of questioning, so I kept my eyes closed. She didn’t know what I was going through, but she knew enough to leave me alone. Although, I wasn’t expecting to feel someone wiggle their way into my arms. Huh…It’s a little body. A warm little body. I liked this warm little body. This warm little body felt familiar…And smelled like pot smoke something fierce. I knew exactly who this little body was…And I could finally smile a little.

“Hi, Veronica…” I needed that. I needed that terribly.

“Hi, Frankie,” Veronica pulled my arm around her. If this were anyone else, I’m sure Vanessa would’ve killed me. Or had me killed. It’s not like she doesn’t have mafia connections. But given that it’s Veronica and she knows better, I’m sure this was just fine.

“How are you?” I asked, still keeping my eyes shut. I could already feel the sun on me and I didn’t feel like having my retinas burned out today.

“I’m more concerned about you,” Veronica was just like her sister. Horribly perceptive and once she got on a scent, there was no getting her off it. Son of a bitch.

“Alright,” I sighed out, “What do you know?”

“Vanessa told me everything last night,” she began, “I know all about what’s happened. I know everything about what went down with you two. But she said you were supportive.”

“I am supportive.” I’m also falling apart at the seams, but I digress.

“But I knew better,” Veronica curled into me, “I knew there was no fucking way you were so cool with her going to Italy on her own like this. I knew it would be too good to be true. I had a feeling there was a brave face going up for that, so I figured I’d come check on you and make sure you were doing ok…Which…Don’t take this the wrong way, Frankie, because you know I love you to death.”

“I know,” I held her a little tighter, “I’m a fucking wreck. I am well aware of that, Veronica. Thank you for pointing that out.”

“I’m serious, Frankie,” she cranked her neck back, “You look like shit.”

“Feel like it, too…”

“Is Vanessa leaving really tearing you up this bad?” she worried, “Because I can totally get on board beating Victoria into the ground with no remorse.”

“There’s a little more to the story than that, Veronica,” I sighed out, “There’s a part of last night that Vanessa didn’t know about quite yet.”

“Oh?” Veronica perked up, “What do you know that she doesn’t?”

“Check my nightstand…” I’m pretty sure that’s where I put it when I came home.

“Ok…” she opened the drawer and looked into it a tad confused, “A box of condoms and a skin mag? Really, Frankie? That’s what you were keeping from Vanessa?”

“No,” I rolled my eyes, “That’s not my nightstand. That’s César’s.”

“I see that,” Veronica took the magazine out and undid the centerfold, “Hello, Miss September…”

“Veronica,” I buried my face in my pillows, “Can we have some decency please? I’m in crisis here.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Veronica put the magazine back, “Slave to the titties some days. Whoops. Which one is yours?”

“The one on the right,” I grumbled.

I heard the drawer slide open. And a little gasp come out of Veronica’s mouth, “Oh…Frankie…Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

“It’s exactly what you think it is.”

“So, that’s why you’re such a gloomy Gus,” she crawled back into bed with me, “And Vanessa doesn’t know about that, does she?”

“That’s the thing,” I sat up a little better, pulling Veronica into my lap, “Because the other day when she stayed here for the night…”

“When she what?” Veronica looked at me strange, “When did Vanessa stay here?”

“Not too long ago,” I smirked a bit, “She didn’t want to go home the other night, so I just let her stay with me. Not that I was complaining. She said she told one of the house staff that she was crashing with a friend, so it wouldn’t raise suspicion. But she knew if she went home in last night’s clothes, your mother would lose her shit, so we went shopping.”

“You went shopping with Vanessa?” she awed, “Frankie, that’s adorable.”

“She told me her ring size, too…”

“So,” Veronica figured, “She knows you’re proposing. She just doesn’t know you’re proposing.”

“That’s pretty much the gist of it,” I nodded, “I was going to propose to her last night, but I figured it wasn’t the time or the place.”

“Not when she was going to be halfway around the world in the morning anyway?”

“You nailed it, kiddo.”

“It’ll be alright, though,” Veronica laid her head on my shoulder, “You just have to wait six months before you propose to her. It’s not like your plans have to change. Just the timeline.”

“Boo.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“No.”

“And why won’t you, Frankie?”

“Because Mama would beat my ass with a wooden spoon for lying.”

“Damn right,” she giggled, “I like your mom, Frankie. She’s a peach.”

“She is the best,” I couldn’t argue with that one.

“You know,” Veronica thought, “If you propose in March, a wedding in the fall would be nice. You have no idea how big a fall wedding is a photographer’s wet dream, Frankie. If you do it in fall, I’ll be more than happy to do your pictures for free.”

“No,” I rolled my eyes, “Vanessa wants a spring wedding. She thinks she doesn’t make hints, but she makes hints. She totally makes hints. And I’m sure you’ll still do our pictures for nothing anyway.”

“Family discount.”

“I love you, Veronica,” I hugged her tight, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Frankie,” she got up from my lap, “You know what? You need to get out of bed. Something tells me you’ve been here longer than you should.”

“I’ve been out of bed today…” The bathroom isn’t attached to my bed.

“Getting up to pee doesn’t count.”

Shit…She knows, “So, what do I need to get out of bed for?”

“We should do something today,” Veronica decided, “You’re in a funk. I got nothing to do today. Let’s go do something.”

“Just you and me?” I wondered.

“Just you and me.”

“It’s appreciated, Veronica,” I curled back up into bed, “But I’m not in the mood. I promise I won’t be in here all day. I do need to go to work tonight.”

“Fine,” she let it go, “Then, if it’s all the same to you, can I come hang out in the Narrows tonight?”

“So, I can corrupt you and be your bad influence, too?” I squeaked, “Do you want to invite Violet, too, so you can have a chaperone?”

“I got you, don’t I?” she brushed me off, “Hell no, I’m not inviting Violet along. She’s a fucking buzzkill. That’s why I didn’t go out with her the night you and Vanessa met. Because I know damn well she’s a buzzkill. And I knew she was taking Vanessa here for the sake of showing her how the other half lives. She wasn’t thinking her plan would backfire. If that wasn’t a big fuck you to her. Thanks, Frankie. You made my day.”

“Glad to do my part.” I love this girl. There’s no way Vanessa’s going to say no to me. She can’t say no to Veronica and she’s already the pain in the ass little sister I never had. Even if she did say no, I’m sure Veronica and I would still be close.

“You know…” Veronica took my hand, “She’ll be ok, Frankie. I know she will.”

“I hope so,” I threw an arm around her, “Thanks for coming by today, Veronica. This was sorely needed.”

“Happy to do my part,” she kissed my cheek, “You checked on me when I felt like shit. I thought I’d return the favor.”

“You also got drugged, Veronica,” I argued, “I think that’s a little different.”

“And my mother took Vanessa away from us…” Veronica wouldn’t even look at me. Her voice cracked a bit. And I couldn’t help but worry about her. She tried to pull herself together, but I think she might have been holding it together with a piece of bubble gum, “I don’t want to go back, Frankie. Vanessa was my only real ally in that house. I’m royally fucked. If I step out of my bedroom, I’m absolutely boned.”

“You know you’re always welcome here, kiddo,” I promised, my heart shattering to pieces, “Anytime. Chances are, someone’s going to be awake at any given time of the day.”

“Thanks, Frankie,” a few tears soaked through my t-shirt. I wasn’t the only one hurting here.

“Tell you what,” I picked her chin up, “If you want, you can come to the Narrows tonight. I’ll be there. It won’t be like the last time you went clubbing, though. You’ll be completely and totally safe. Besides, anyone tries to fuck with you, I’m not the only one going to bat for you. And the warehouse is just next door. That’s not somewhere anyone wants to be. Trust me. I’ve seen it firsthand.”

“You’ve dealt it firsthand,” Veronica rolled her eyes, “I know you have.”

“That’s where I brought the last prick that thought he could fuck with you,” I reminded her, “Don’t you worry. Like I said, you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Frankie,” she kissed my cheek, “I’m going to head home, ok? I’m going to make myself all cute.”

“Not too cute,” I settled her, “You don’t know what kind of trash comes through the bars in the Narrows. You don’t need to be going home with any of that.”

“My sister’s dating one of those ruffians that hang around in the Narrows,” Veronica started heading out, “I think I got it handled.”

That’s my girl, “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Love you!” she waved behind her.

“Love you, too…” I really do hope that we end up family. Hell, we might as well be now. I hope whoever ends up with Veronica knows what they’re getting into. And what they’re getting. She truly is a good kid. Once I heard the door open and close again, I walked out into the living room, “Mama? Are you still home?”

The house was quiet. Huh…Looks like I got to cook for myself. That’s alright. I knew Mama would, but I had two hands that functioned. We had food in the fridge. I threw a sandwich together and went out to the fire escape to clear my head. I don’t know why I’m still so worried. It’s like Veronica said. It’s only six months. I’m sure it’ll go by quick. Vanessa loves me. I don’t have anything to worry about. It’s only six months. And I can always propose when she gets back.

#the good old days #oc backstory #fan fiction prequel #mafia au #switch #for the family

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benito-cereno · 7 years

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A story for All Saints’ Day

I technically made it! In some time zones!

Anyway, some people told me on Twitter they might be interested in reading some original prose fiction from me. Welp, I hope you weren’t lying!

Here is a story I originally wrote as a comic script (that you may have heard me talk about) that I have adapted into a short story. This is only part one! I will be posting additional parts in the days to come, as this story is an appropriate one for these liminal days between the Halloween and Christmas seasons.

Please read and share! Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call my story

The Further Adventures of Santa Claus, chapter 1: The Saint Comes to Wallachia (part one)

“I've never been so bored and excited at the same time in my entire life,” the child said. Her nose was pressed against the frosty window pane, where her breath created a ghostly fog on the glass. It was only late afternoon, but the darkness stretched out its inky fingers pretty early in these days around the solstice, giving the child a sense that it was much later than it actually was.

“Hmm?” The child’s tutor cocked up an eyebrow, not even looking up from the stack of papers he was correcting. The child’s facility for boredom extended such that she was sufficiently behind on schoolwork that her tutor had to come out deep into what would normally be a winter break for both of them.

The child turned from the window, wiping the condensation of her own breath off the tip of her nose. “Well, you know. I'm really excited that it's Christmas Eve and everything, but I don't have anything to do to kill time until it gets here!” She slumped down into a chair, but rather than stopping at chair’s edge such as a person intent on sitting comfortably might do, she let her forward momentum cause her to continue sliding past the edge of her seat and onto the floor until she pooled there languidly, as if the sheer presence of boredom had leeched all the calcium from her bones and only a puddle of girl remained. “I wish I could watch TV. The new Shelfy Elf Christmas special is coming on tonight!”

“First of all,” the tutor said, finally looking up from the pile of risibly incorrect math assignments and glowering somewhat over the rims of his glasses, “I would rather watch a YouTube video from the future inerrantly predicting my own death than Shelfy Elf. But more importantly, you know you’re not allowed to watch TV until we finish getting through all this schoolwork.” He smirked a little, noticing the child had stopped listening somewhere mid-sentence, instead staring at the ceiling and blowing bubbles with her own spit. “I hope you asked Santa for even one ounce of attention span for Christmas.”

The spit bubble popped silently. “What?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just sit still until I get through these papers. The more you squirm and the more you change the subject, the longer this takes.” The tutor turned back to the paper and briskly circled a series of unreduced fractions. Something like a shadow seemed to cross his brow and he paused, pen mid-stroke. “Although…”

“What? What? Can we stop? Can I watch Shelfy Elf?” the child asked, almost too expectantly.

“Not in a million years. But! Maybe there’s something that might provide you with a brief entertainment and also technically fall under the auspices of your cultural and historical education.”

“You had me at ‘entertainment’ and lost me at ‘education’,” the child said, resuming a slumped position in the chair. “I’d rather watch you circle fractions than hear a history story. No offense, but history is for dumb people who are boring, like you.”

“Cool, cool. Cool cool cool,” the tutor deflected. “What if this story was a ghost story?”

The child’s curiosity was mildly piqued; her suspicion somewhat moreso. “Why would you tell a ghost story on Christmas Eve?”

The tutor set down his pen and closed the math book, himself palpably relieved at the change of subject. “Telling ghost stories used to be a common occurrence at Christmas. The Christmas season is cold and dark, scary and dangerous. If you think about it, caroling is a lot like trick or treating, and it used to be even closer than it is now.” He took off his glasses and wiped them with the cuff of his sweater sleeve. “Plus, you know, just like they say in that song: ‘there’ll be scary ghost stories and tales of old glories of Christmases long, long ago’? Right?”

The look on the child’s face was blanker than the answer spaces after the extra credit questions on her vocabulary quiz. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The tutor smiled resignedly at this common refrain that he had heard many times in his years working with the child. “Don’t worry about it.” He replaced his glasses on his face and rubbed his chin. “I tell you what. I’ll make sure the story is appropriate for Christmas, what do you say?”

“With Santa in it?”

“Sure, of course.”

The child pressed her luck. “With Shelfy Elf in it?”

The tutor patted the child on the head. “I would sooner die. Now sit back. I know just the story.”

And here is the story he told:

Many people know that Santa Claus' true name is St. Nicholas, but most don't know anything more than that. St. Nicholas was a bishop from the town of Myra, in the province of Lycia in Asia Minor, or modern day Turkey. He lived during the late third century CE through the early fourth century CE, a time when Hellenistic culture was very strong in his region.

Since he is venerated today as the saint of sailors, some people posit that Nicholas worked as a boatman himself, though it is more likely that his parents were very affluent and owned the fishing fleet rather than worked for it. It is said that, on a trip back to Myra from studying in Alexandria, Nicholas saved the life of a young sailor in a storm. When the pair arrived back in Myra, Nicholas took the man to the local church, where the bishop had just died, and the church elders were seeking a replacement.

As Nicholas prayed, the sailor overheard the men saying that God had instructed them in a dream to find a “man of victory.” As it happens, the name Nicholas is derived from the Greek words “nike,” meaning “victory,” and “laos,” meaning “people,” meaning that Nicholas would bring the people to a great victory over evil. The sailor did not hesitate to tell the church fathers how his life was bravely saved by the actions of one “Nike-laos,” and Nicholas was promptly made bishop of Myra.

In his time as bishop, Nicholas became known for his great and anonymous generosity, often perpetrated under the cover of night, as well as a large number of miracles. But given the state of the world at that time, perhaps Nicholas' greatest miracle was dying of old age, peacefully in his own bed, on December 6, 343 CE. His body was laid at his church in Myra, which became a popular center for pilgrimage. His tomb was said to secrete manna, a holy liquid with potent healing abilities, making the shrine all the more desirable.

In the year 1087, sailors from Bari in Italy took advantage of the confusion arising from a recent raid by the Turkish Seljuks to get the monks from Nicholas' shrine to show them the relics and body of the saint. The sailors opened the tomb and returned with the saint's remains back to Bari, where a new church was built, and where Nicholas' bones lie to this day.

Or so most people think. While the details of what happened following the translation of the saint’s relics are unclear, the facts are these: the tomb continued and continues to this day to produce manna, that pure liquid with powerful healing properties, and soon after the disturbance of the tomb and its resettling in Italy in 1087, children began seeing Saint Nicholas roaming the world each year on the anniversary of his death, leaving candy, nuts, fruits, and toys in their shoes. Whether these two facts are connected is up to you to decide.

At any rate, it was under these circumstances that the saint found himself traveling through the snow-shrouded woods of Eastern Europe one December 5 in the 15th century. As he had done in his former life, he traveled under cover of darkness astride his mighty white steed to give gifts to his favorite people in the world, children. By this time, he had acquired a helper: a woodland god forced into obsolescence by the advent of Christianity to his old Northern home, and tamed by the miraculous power of Nicholas himself. The great, wild god. The Krampus.

And so it was that the unlikely pair found themselves this Saint Nicholas Eve in the voivodeship of Wallachia. As Nicholas’s horse crunched softly through the crust of the untouched snow with each step, the Krampus sniffed the air with suspicion and snorted a substantial cloud of steam into the cuttingly cold night. The saint looked around him to see what his bestial companion had noticed that his human--though saintly--eyes had failed to notice. As the brisk winter wind blew the black velveteen clouds away from the frame of the moon, the milky white light was given purchase on what the saint had previously believed to be the trees of the Wallachian forest.

Instead what he found was a forest of rotting bodies impaled upon tall spikes planted throughout the forest. Though the bodies had largely by this point become food for crows, nevertheless the small size of many of them made clear that whoever had committed such a deed had few scruples about whom he wanted to make an example of.

Saint Nicholas turned his head in both sadness and disgust. “I must say, Krampus,” he said in resignation, “I don’t think we’ll find many good children in this country.” The Krampus snorted in agreement.

The pair soon emerged from the woods and across the snowy plain their eyes landed upon a wondrously princely court, complete with an imposing tower lording over the surrounding area. The saint also noticed a somewhat ostentation cathedral within the walls of the court as well, though he wondered how much use it truly received. The silhouette of this stark, gothic fortress cut a somewhat frightening figure upon the night sky, but a bright orange glow from the windows and a bounty of smoke pouring out of the palace hall suggested perhaps it was somewhat cheerier on the inside.

“However,” Saint Nicholas remarked dryly, “it looks as if this humble dwelling has left the light on for us.”

(more soon)

#christmas #halloween #santa claus #dracula #santa vs dracula #saint nicholas #krampus #my writing #not comics

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iamplanetjanet · 7 years

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11/23/17- Thanksgiving 2017

It’s Thanksgiving day, and day 2/3 of my NYC trip with Kevin. This trip has been a nice chance to get away for a while, away from Ithaca, and complete my dreams of being a city girl for a few days. NYC is way too large to explore all of it, but we’ve gotten the chance to travel around Manhattan and Staten Island, capturing the food, shops, and scenery that this large city has to offer.

It’s a beautiful place to be, despite the smoky smell and large crowds with long walking distances. I’m definitely still a city girl, but maybe I won’t actually live IN a city!

We spent today walking around Central Park after a failed meet-up with a friend of a friend from back home. We rode the Staten Island Ferry to see the Statue of Liberty and get amazing views of NYC, checked out China Town, ate at Little Italy while having some uncomfortable yet interesting conversation,and rode the Subway almost all day. I’m thankful for the adventures that I’ve had so far, and it’s allowed me to get my mind off of things for a while. I feel like I learn something new about Kevin every time I hang out with him- I’m thankful to have him on the trip, since he is basically our GPS. I’ve learned that guys are easy to be around, you just have to get to know them, and let them have the little things that they want, haha.

Anyways, tomorrow is the last day I will be in NYC, before heading back to the reality that is Ithaca, NY. It’s also Thanksgiving today, so I wanted to reflect on the things that I’m thankful for in my life.

--The privilege I have of knowing Christ and being able to know the truth that sets us free.

--A complete family (Mom, Dad, Jesse, and my dog), including my parents who allow me to do what my heart desires and to chase the dreams I have to the best of my ability.

--Life-supporting and loving friends. True friends that do life with me through all circumstances.

--Good health, quite possibly one of the most important things.

--A chance at a higher education, at a university like Cornell

In the middle of a broken and fallen world, I know a lot of things can knock us down. I’m thankful that God provides what I need, and that I am still being led.

Happy Thanksgiving!

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t-reytravels · 7 years

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Thank You, Augustana

1,336 days ago, or something like that, I jokingly added a calendar event in my countdown app titled “Graduation” set for May 20, 2017. I was a freshman in college with four full years ahead of me which felt like an eternity. Yet, here I am, in my final act as an Augustana undergraduate student. The last four years of my life have dramatically changed and when I think of the origin of these developments, I am always led back to one source—Augustana. In the past few weeks, I reflected upon all of those experiences and asked myself, “What’s the most valuable thing I have learned from Augie? What is that one thing that I will carry with my through the rest of my life that Augustana College & University have equipped me with?”

I have dreamt of traveling and experiencing new places since as early as Kindergarten. The 2000 Sydney and 2002 Salt Lake City Olympics, the paper mâché globe we made in 2nd grade (I spelled Asia wrong), my poster report of France in 3rd grade, the countless hours I spent reading world almanacs in 4th grade, and the fictional stories I wrote about a brother and sister who traveled the world solving crimes in 5th grade all helped fuel this innate drive I possessed to throw myself out into the dark and dangerous world. I’ll admit, it was not easy having a dream like this growing up in small town South Dakota, especially with a family as close knit as the one I am blessed with, how could I leave them???. I always felt supported by family, friends, and teachers when it came to my dreams, but I never felt like I was being taken seriously when I would say “I’m going to travel the world.” They may have believed me, I probably just convinced myself that they didn’t believe I would actually do it because how many people from small town South Dakota actually move across the world? I had no example that I was aware of to look at and say to other people “they did it so I can too.” I just had to blindly believe that I would one day see the world and never let the passion surrounding that belief die out. As I finished up high school, I had plans to study abroad for an entire year, then it became a semester, and then a J-term course. Fear made me feel I could not make it a year or even a semester without my family and that I would not be happy about missing out on the “college experience” at a U.S. university.

Side Rant: Advice for soon to be freshman in college and upperclassmen in high school. Partying in college is overrated and a waste of money (personal opinion). While many people spent their time at college forgetting their Friday nights, I spent mine finding ways to make my dreams a reality. To each their own, but if you are serious about achieving your goals, make mature decisions. I maybe went out 5-10 times over four years of college and I still had more than enough friends, so don’t think you will be a social outcast if you don’t party every weekend night. Create a balanced and stable lifestyle in college and the transition into adulthood will be much easier. And this was one of the many reasons I chose Augustana. People don’t choose Augie because it’s a good party school. We chose it because we met new people from all over the country and world who have the same intense passions. It was refreshing to make new friends and not be surrounded by high school or hometown drama that continued into college. End rant.

Anyway, I knew I had goals of traveling and possibly living and working outside of the United States, but I did not feel ready for it four years ago. There existed this conflict of my dreams and the reality of what opportunities are available for those living in Alexandria, SD. I can easily explain this to you with a letter I wrote to my future self in the 4th grade about my career aspirations. It read ‘I will work as a foreign language interpreter for the Pentagon... and live in Alexandria, SD.’ I was clearly unaware at the time of the dilemma here, but I would have to come to terms with that as I graduated high school and decisions that would shape my future were finally here. I was afraid. How can I follow my passion, my dream, but still be close to the ones I love?

Over the past four years, my education at Augustana College & University have given me the confidence to follow my dreams. Augie strongly encourages studying abroad more than any other school in the state and this is important because we no longer live in 1950 where we can live in SD and only worry about SD. This is a globalized world and what happens in Europe or Asia does affect South Dakotans. The more you travel, the more you understand this. (50% of the students at Augie study abroad at some point). I went from 17 days in Australia (2010) to three weeks in Italy (2016) to two months in Spain (2016) and now two years in Spain (2017-2019). Augie prepared me for that progression in many ways outside of the classroom and everyday homework. It surrounded me with other people who were doing amazing trips, experiencing wonderful things on their travels, and learning about other people, how they live and new ways of thinking about how the world works. Finally, I decided I wanted in on the adventure.

The most important thing that Augie has taught me is adaptability. My degree is in athletic training, but I’m going to be a teacher’s assistant in English. I have plans to continue my education to physical therapy school, but I can’t predict what opportunities will present itself over the next two years. I could end up in Europe for longer, I could end up back in Alexandria, I could begin PT school in California, the opportunities are truly endless. I’m open to anything happening, but more importantly I’m prepared for whatever comes. This is exclusively taught at Augie because it is almost encouraged to break away from the herd and the linear life path that so many robotically fall into. I know dozens of pre-med, nursing, and many other types of students at Augustana where they have decided to take a break and go experience the world for year or more. This certainty that our futures will work themselves out is again, present in every person you happily greet on the Augustana campus. Almost everyone thinks like this and it is empowering. And what if you go out and take a chance and all of the worst things possible happen to you? The great thing about growing up in the Midwest is that you can always come back. There will never be a day that exists where I can’t come back to Alexandria, SD and make a living and have a good life.

In closing, I have refused to follow the idea that I must get a job right after school. I refuse to worry about how much student loan debt I have, or how much money my future careers will make me. I refuse to care about having a big house, a nice car, all these things society has told us we need to have in order to be happy and be successful in life because, I have found complete happiness by following the exact opposite mindset. I don’t have a career right out of school, I don’t have unlimited funds, I don’t have a house, car, or even a plan to have any of these things in the next five years. Sign me up for public transportation, small apartments, and a low paying career because if I’m doing what I love in traveling, meeting new people from all over the world, and learning new languages I guarantee I will be the happiest person I can possibly be. An elderly man at a PT clinic once told me, “Do whatever you want, for as long as you can while you’re young” and this made me realize I have plenty of time in my 40s, 50s and 60s to make money. I want to spend my 20s and 30s LIVING. I give all the credit to Augustana for developing this mindset alongside me for four years and bringing the people into my life that helped facilitate this confidence that my future will be successful no matter what happens. I will forever be grateful, so...

Thank you, Augustana and Go Vikings!

#GreatDayToBeAViking GoAugie

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markwatkinsconsumerguide · 7 years

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Consumer Guide / No.44 / Psychotherapist and philosopher Piero Ferrucci with Mark Watkins.

MW: Piero, what is Psychosynthesis?

PF : Psychosynthesis is too hard to define in a few words, Mark, however, a definition can be that it’s the integration of separated elements of the psyche or personality. You can find more information on my website, in my books and by attending my lectures. I have been teaching at the Psychosynthesis and Education Trust in London for many years.

http://www.pieroferrucci.it

https://psychosynthesistrust.org.uk/

MW: You graduated from the University of Torino, Italy, in 1970. What did you study ? How was it having Roberto Assagioli as a teacher/mentor?

PF: At the University I studied various aspects of philosophy: theoretical philosophy, moral philosophy, the philosophy of language, the philosophy of science, and so on. I also studied pedagogy. My dissertation was on computer assisted education.

I studied with Assagioli after University. Although highly cultured, he kept far from from the academic world. He felt institutions sometimes can block innovation. Studying with him was an enlightening experience.

MW: You’ve written several successful self-help books, including your very first one, What We May Be (1982)...

PF: First of all, what is a self-help book? The train timetable could be one, and so also the Gospel. Any book could be seen as a tool with which we help ourselves. In that sense all my books are self-help. I wrote a book on kindness and its many qualities such as gratitude, warmth, respect, and so on (I counted 19 qualities): The Power of Kindness. I also wrote a book on beauty: Beauty And The Soul, because I think beauty is a transforming experience, but too often forgotten or ignored. What Children Teach Us was about what we can learn as parents (It’s not a book on how to rear children). Inevitable Grace is on the phenomenon of peak experiences. Your Inner Will talks about the will as the capacity of making choice, being in control of our lives, and reaching for the depths.

MW: ... so, your first book...the process...

PF: What We May Be took ten years, nine re-writings, and more than thirty publisher rejections before coming out. It was a great learning experience. Anyway, one always learns from writing and teaching.

MW: You’re the nephew of Aldous Huxley and Laura Huxley. Didn’t you co-write a book with Laura?

PF: I didn’t really co-write a book with Laura, but helped her put in writing her many good ideas in How To Die Healthy.

MW: Which novel by Aldous have you read and liked the best?

PF: I liked best Island by Aldous Huxley even though it is not his best writing, because it is his spiritual testament.

MW: How does kindness manifest as power?

PF: We often think of kindness as soft and lightweight. However, it has the power to transform relationships, move people, revolutionize our lives.

MW: What’s the most powerful message you’ve ever received in a dream. Did you act on it?

PF: I have never acted on a message from a dream. Maybe the most powerful message was a dream of Assagioli just the night before I met him and he would become a guide and teacher in my life. He was in a car and told me: “Come with me, I will take you on a trip”.

MW: What’s the point of life? What’s the point of death?

Unanswerable questions, Mark.

MW: Do you believe in The Afterlife?

PF: I don’t know anything of The Afterlife. I have sometimes had glimpses of timelessness.

MW: Any regrets? How would you like to be remembered?

PF: I regret not having studied German and having been sometimes too shy. I would like to be remembered by my family, friends, colleagues, patients, students, and others, for having said something unusual.

MW: How does music effect you ?

PF: Hmm, I do not usually have such strong extravert reactions to music – only awe: almost anything by Bach, Mozart, Beethoven.

MW: How did you meet your wife and do you share interests?

PF: We met because she had read my first book and we shared many interests and still do: philosophy, psychology, spirituality, music, movies and literature. There is very little we do not have in common, Mark.

MW: You have two children. What have your boys taught you, the adults?

PF: Many things such as wonder, flexibility, patience, and humility: I have written the book What Children Teach Us about this subject.

MW: You currently live in Florence, Italy. Describe the area and its attractiveness for family living and as a lifestyle…

PF: This is the home of the Renaissance, and if you pay attention you can feel it. Going to the very top of the Duomo is wonderful.The olive trees produce extraordinary oil and it’s special in November when it is new and tangy; the hills surrounding us are beautiful.The people are mostly kind and the food is great. Lots of tourists, though, and the same obnoxious brands you can see all over the place.

MW: Final question, Piero, what do you plan to do this Summer (2017)?

PF: Read. Go to Sardinia. Perhaps hike in the Dolomites.

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cale-ashton2017 · 7 years

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Switzerland!

Okay ya’ll, it has been a long delay since I’ve posted because I’m still trying to figure out this picture thing. I have them on my computer but now tumblr isn’t cooperating--every time I go to make a post with pictures, it doesn’t let me! Until then I guess we’ll just go picture-less.

So last I updated we were heading to Switzerland. Now I discovered that the Bernina Express (a train line that is actually a UNESCO world heritage) was running a train that somewhat fit our itinerary. Taking a panoramic, scenic train through Switzerland has been pretty high up there on things I wanted to do this trip, so I adjusted our plans accordingly. We woke up at 7am in Verona and headed off to a train station. We didn’t get a chance to see much of Verona as a result, but ultimately for our purposes, Cale and I weren’t too disappointed to be leaving. We took a train from Verona to Milan which was empty and lovely, we wanted to stay on that particular train all day because of how spacious and comfortable it was--plus it had WIFI which is pretty hard to beat.

From Milan we hopped on another train to Tirano which is right snug on the border between Italy and Switzerland. We were not expecting that particular train journey to be so beautiful but WOW was it ever. Mountains and lakes and villages tucked in between. It was really enjoyable. We arrived in Tirano around 1pm... yes, we had already spent roughly 5 hours in trains at this point. The Bernina Express was scheduled to leave at 3pm so we had two hours to kill in Tirano. As I have discovered on this trip, 17 year old boys need A LOT OF FOOD. So first things first, we find a little restaurant right by the train station and post up there for a delicious final Italian meal of pizza and pasta.

The service here was lovely and I would go back in a heartbeat to this northern region of Italy. A pair of American ladies dined next to us which brought us a little taste of home, although we got a glimpse into some stereotypes of Americans, like being culturally insensitive. They were well meaning but they talked down to the servers a bit and it was apparent.

Anyway, soon enough we boarded the Bernina. Panoramic trains are something to behold. It was a little cramped between Cale and I on one set of seats, and a gentleman from Singapore sat across from us. But we managed. I so wish I could post pictures right now because words don’t do the train ride justice. Every turn was a waterfall, a snow-covered mountain, a village tucked between a blue lake and rolling hills, etc. Needless to say the four hour journey from Tirano to Chur was well-worth the detour. The gentleman across from us was very educated and in the army in Singapore, we discussed the differences in governing systems and what he felt worked for his country and what we felt did and didn’t for ours. He was intelligent and insightful, and also on his way to Zurich where he would take a flight to London to make his wife’s brother’s wedding... which he stressed he could NOT miss, haha. So far, every person we’ve met on this trip has been interesting/a pleasure to get to know.

From Chur we took a train to Zurich, and from Zurich a train to Bellinzona, where our hotel for the night was. By the time we arrived it was 11pm. We were both dead tired. On top of that, Cale had started coming down with my sickness. We get off the train and it is cold and dark and of course... it starts raining. Our hotel is roughly a 10-12 minute walk away, so we walk, in the dark, in the cold, in the rain... which I’m sure did not help Cale’s body trying to fight off the sickness.

We arrive, exhausted, and have to wait for the hotel attendant to let us in. Had a funny conversation with the girl where she asked us where in America we are from. When I said Texas she said ‘Wow! TEX-AS.’ I smiled and said how beautiful we thought Switzerland was. She shrugged and said ‘Yes, but you’re from TEX-AS.’ So I’m not sure where she’s gotten the idea that Texas is prettier than Switzerland, but as much as I miss and now appreciate home, scenery-wise it ain’t got nothing on Switzerland haha.

Essentially we fell asleep immediately, but not quite before discovering that we didn’t have an adaptor suited for Switzerland. Luckily we were able to charge our phones via my computer and crash. Woke up the next morning feeling dead but had to get out by 10. Cale very sick by this point, I’m still recovering. We eat a quick breakfast before setting off again. The original plan had been to explore Bellinzona, Switzerland’s southern capital which is home to three medieval castles. But it was cold and raining once again and Cale just really wasn’t up for it, so we altered our plans a bit and took an earlier train to Grindelwald. Grindelwald is a little tricky to get to via train. We had to take a few to make it over there, stopping at a grocery store in Lucerne’s train station on the way where we had the world’s best fresh-squeezed orange juice. Like seriously. I’ll be dreaming about this stuff. I want to go back just for the orange juice.

Anyway, we make it to Grindelwald early afternoon. It is stunningly beautiful and shockingly cold. Cale is roughing it through a fever so we get him into our lodge and he rests for the night. We venture out for dinner and discover, like everywhere else in Switzerland, it is unbelievably expensive. The next morning we walked around awhile and took in the natural beauty. Overnight it had snowed on the tops of the mountains, and it actually started snowing while we were out and about. Our original plan was to take a quick trip to Bern and walk around there for a few hours, but Cale was still in the worst part of his sickness so we opted instead to head to Strasbourg, our next stop.

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dreadfuldetour-blog · 7 years

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Planes are for Wimps

Upon discovering that I needed a co-op after my second year of College, I set out to find a business that would take me in for the summer. The year before, I had my co-op at a small hotel in the town of 1000 people that I was living in at the time. My boss had been a critical middle aged woman who always threatened me with dismissal (though never followed through. Probably because of the grant she was getting by having me there). She did not like most of the younger employees, calling us lazy and constantly belittling us in front of both customers and other employees. I was the only remaining student by the end of the summer, and that was mostly due to the fact that the other women in the office were very supportive and helped steer her away from me whenever possible. It also helped that her most consistent customer, a French hockey salesman of some kind, loved me. Needless to say, I did not want a job like that again and I was desperate for something a little more interesting and not quite so miserable.

My roommates had been out west the summer before at their own co-op, and had loved it. They spent their time in the mountains, touring scenic routes and beautiful landscapes whilst making new friends and greeting all sorts of guests from all over the world. That sounded much more appealing to me than having the life sucked out of me by a terrible small town gig, so I applied to the hotel in the mountains. A few months later, I got the green light and my summer plans were in motion.

Now, if you know anything about post-secondary education, you know that it isn’t cheap and that OSAP is a bit of a pain in the backside (I have a whole other outrageous story about that). I was very very very broke when the end of the semester came around, and flying in Canada is nowhere near cheap. I sifted through my options and found the bus to be the cheapest. As a poor college student, it was my only option if I was going to get to this job by the end of May. My roommates, soon co-workers, would join me on the bus ride from North Bay all the way to Calgary, and from there all the way down to where the resort was located in southern Alberta. We never expected it to be great, but we could not gage just how incredibly nuts it was going to be. Welcome to travelling with me; it’s always going to be a little bit nuts.

It was 4am, and my father drove me to the station where Barbie and Red (using nicknames here) were already waiting (Note: I should mention that they are a couple and thus sit together). We hopped on the bus and trekked to Sudbury, picking up a few people along the way but the bus was mostly deserted until we hit the ‘city’ again (‘city’ is a bit of a stretch in the north).

In Sudbury, we picked up a few characters, but the best one was an elderly gentleman dressed EXACTLY like Einstein. Like, I cannot fully relay to you how much work this man put into his outfit. Even the HAIR was perfect! It was surreal, and kind of odd, but that’s what you get when you take the bus.

This is where things get a little stupid. Northern Ontario does not tend to have great roads, much less roads fit for mass transit. As we crept through the wild forests and beautiful waterfalls heading towards Sault Ste.Marie, we were stopped along a road because of flooding, and had to take a detour. We drove an extra three hours, only to be stopped again because of flooding, and sent BACK to where we had originally been detoured. Apparently, communication is lacking within Greyhound buses (more on that later).

After more detours and more hours wasted on the road, we ended up in Sault Ste. Marie, and then onward to Thunder Bay. We were so late that Greyhound was putting all of us on the NEXT bus, which meant we had to wait even longer (3-4 hours). None of us were pleased, but we didn’t have the energy nor manpower to fight the decision. Twenty something of us passed out in the station, finally able to stretch out and lay flat. Some of us freshened up in the bathrooms, wiping ourselves down with paper towels. The sandwich shop owner took pity on us after our arrival, and gave out some free sandwiches (bless that man) but it did little to alleviate our misery.

So, hours pass and the next bus comes in, and some of us breathe a sigh of relief at the sight. Lo and behold however: THE BUS HAS NO ROOM ON IT FOR US. We were furious, some of us yelling out “You didn’t hire anyone to COUNT the number of seats available?!” and I didn’t think they were wrong. The second bus picked up a few passengers, and a new bus was put into motion for us, but not until it was cleaned.

Off on our trip again, we strode west, thankful that this new bus had Wi-Fi and outlets for those who were entertainment starved (unlike the rest of us who brought books). I popped another Gravol and prepped for our journey into Manitoba, which I was excited to see. I had never been west before, so this was a whole new experience for me.

The crossing into Manitoba was lackluster at best, and I remember seeing a lot of rocks and pine trees, which was most of northern Ontario. I went back to sleep and awaited the long anticipated Prairies.

Let me take a moment to explain how excited I was to finally see the famed landscape that I had heard so much about. I always like seeing new things and especially new landscapes. I grew up in northern Ontario where everything is just trees and rocks and, for a huge chunk of the year, a ton of snow. I had, at this point, seen most of the eastern states, all the way down to Texas (which I recommend) and I had been to Italy (which I also recommend). I had seen quite a few things, but I wanted so desperately to see more of my country. Being able to move across it was something I had looked forward to, even if it had meant sitting on the bus for a while. Needless to say, I was regretting that decision quite a bit at this point in the story, but I was still excited for the Prairies regardless.

It was a wide expanse of endless blue and yellow, stretching shamelessly across my window for as far as the eye could see. Rare trees passed by my view of wheat and skies and I was thrilled with it-

- For about TEN minutes.

It was the sameness that drove me insane. Blue and yellow, blue and yellow, blue and yellow for HOURS. At least when night fell it changed.

Winnipeg was where we became better acquainted with our bus-mates who had been through most of the same crap we had. There were two middle aged French-men who had bonded instantly upon speaking. One seemed like a kindly suburb kind of guy, very chill, very relaxed. The other was a fashion designer from Montreal who was very enthusiastic about mostly everything. There was a woman who had come aboard somewhere around Sault Ste. Marie who constantly read Dr. Who magazines and generally kept to herself. These were our bros.

We ended up staying in the Winnipeg airport for a few hours, and Barbie decided to go on a hunt for a pillow. He didn’t want to pay for one, so he went hunting in the airline offices to see if they had any laying around from their flights. After telling them everything that had happened thus far, the people at the desk took pity on him and gave him a pillow, free of charge.

We ran into our bus-bros and Maurice (the enthusiastic French fashion man) was APPALLED that we had managed to find a pillow. He had been looking all over the airport shops for one, as he had not though to bring one either. Instead of going to the offices though, he had spent over fifty dollars in a claw machine trying to get as many plush animals as possible to serve as a makeshift pillow. He held up a bright blue bear with the words “it’s a boy” on the belly and offered it to Barbie for his pillow. There was no trade made, but it made for a funny moment. Maurice ended up naming all of his stuffed animals.

I’ll insert a little story here to help break up the Prairies. This story is about a man who was my first seat-mate who got on the bus in Winnipeg to get to Regina. Let’s call him Bruce.

Bruce was a construction worker in Saskatchewan. Before he had ended up with me on the bus, his boss had let his workers go early for their vacations, so Bruce took off to hang out with a friend in Winnipeg, which is about 6 hours away. His friend picked him up and off they went.

Along the way, his friend got excited, “Bruce! Let’s go bar hopping!” and Bruce was game.

They picked their way along the route, stopping at as many dives as possible, and getting rigorously drunk (NOTE: DO NOT DRINK AND DRIVE). At some point in the evening, the friend got excited again.

“Bruce, bro, there’s a SICK bar around here. It’s the BEST. Like, I can’t even bro.”

So they started driving. And driving. And driving. And driving.

Bruce was sobering up a bit and noticed that they were driving on a grass road, “Bro, where are we?”

“We’re almost there.”

“We’re driving on grass. What kind of bar are we going to on a grass road???”

Eventually, the friend realized that he may have miscalculated the location of this famed bar, so they pulled over and tried to figure it out on a map. Being kind of drunk and kind of hungover, they ended up falling asleep instead.

Bruce woke up with a massive hangover. He also woke up in a field. His friend was gone.

After a few frantic phone calls, he finally got a hold of another friend in Winnipeg and managed to get picked up. Then, his boss called him: he needed him back ASAP.

That’s about the time that I met him. He was nice, and clearly had better stories than I could ever dream of. Anyways, back on track.

We get to Regina (best description of the city that I can give you is: flat, flat, flat, suddenly CITY) and there’s a bit of a wait. I say goodbye to Bruce, who rewarded me for my listening with the location of the nearest Tim Hortons (bless you Bruce). We waited around, drinking coffee and hoping that we didn’t smell (we probably did. Same clothes the whole trip). We got back on the bus, re-grouping with our bus-bros.

I ended up sitting with a little old French woman who was heading to Calgary. She was sweet and we spoke a little, but ended up listening to the disaster that was going on directly behind us. The bus was packed full of people now, having picked up quite a few new passengers in Regina. One of them was a woman who was NOT having a good day. She had, apparently, been kicked out of her home by her daughters for doing too many drugs (can neither confirm nor deny this claim, but she eventually confessed to doing some cocaine, but not a lot. This story changed every time she told it, which was quite a few times).

She was sitting with Maurice, who I had found to be a very nice man, if a bit eccentric. He had listened and been patient with this woman for a good chunk of the trip, until she asked him about his trip and where he was going. He told her he was going to see his sister in Calgary.

For some reason, this woman decided that she was going to straight up insult Maurice’s sister. I recall making eye contact with the little old French woman that I was sitting with, and we both had an “Uh oh” moment, which was followed by more of those moments after Maurice reacted to it.

He was not happy, which is putting it mildly. So, for the last few hours of the trip, I got to listen to him scorn this woman. While it did add a touch of drama, it was a bit tense.

At long last, we reached our destination: Calgary. I have never wanted a shower so badly in my entire life. We said our farewells to our bus-mates, knowing that we would probably never see them again.

There’s a happy ending here, and it isn’t that we got to southern Alberta. It’s better.

After 62 hours on a bus, I showered.

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