Categories
Aesthetics Culture Travel

Day 1995 and Mongoose On The Loose

I am scouting real estate (it’s an involved story) and came upon a weasel or polecat who appeared to be become stuck in an empty pool.

The setting was a rocky, wooded coastal habitat which I learned is also exactly the kind of edge habitat where small hunting carnivores like weasels and polecats move between cover and human structures to hunt lizards, insects, rodents, and even snakes.

Little Rikki The Least Weasel needed some help getting out of an empty pool

Naturally my mind went straight to Rikki-Tikki-Tavi of Rudyard Kipling fame. “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi” is a short story by Rudyard Kipling, first published in The Jungle Book in 1894, about a brave young mongoose who protects a British family in India from cobra snakes. You can read it to your child or to yourself here.

The story is simple and timeless. A boy and his fearless animal bravely face down danger with love and loyalty. Rikki-Tikki is rescued after a storm by the family, with whom he bonds. It’s tale beloved by children as the mongoose especially cares for the child Teddy, and fiercely protects him from the danger of the poisonous cobras.

He spent all that day roaming over the house. He nearly drowned himself in the bath-tubs, put his nose into the ink on a writing-table, and burnt it on the end of the big man’s cigar, for he climbed up in the big man’s lap to see how writing was done. At nightfall he ran into Teddy’s nursery to watch how kerosene-lamps were lighted, and when Teddy went to bed Rikki-tikki climbed up too; but he was a restless companion, because he had to get up and attend to every noise all through the night, and find out what made it. Teddy’s mother and father came in, the last thing, to look at their boy, and Rikki-tikki was awake on the pillow. ‘I don’t like that,’ said Teddy’s mother; ‘he may bite the child.’ ‘He’ll do no such thing,’ said the father. ‘Teddy’s safer with that little beast than if he had a bloodhound to watch him. If a snake came into the nursery now

I did indeed feel safer knowing a least weasel was patrolling the perimeter of the property. The area had a large overgrown garden which must have had good hunting. So we set about finding an empty hose to give Rikki something to climb upon so he could make his way out of the pool.

Thankfully the mustelid or young beech marten was every bit as curious and interested as the mongoose of Kipling. He ran right up to the hose, grabbed onto it and raced up just far enough to reach the height of the pool ladder onto which he leapt and scuttled up and over the poolside to freedom. He very nearly waved goodbye to us. I felt much safer exploring the overgrown garden knowing he was on the prowl.

Categories
Preparedness Travel

Day 1993 and All Systems Red

I am in an all systems flashing red kind of place today. I slept poorly, my stomach and colon are tied up in knots, my HRV is in the basement around 12 while my RHR is in the stratosphere at 99bpm. It’s possible I’m sick on the road.

1871 days of Whoop and my metrics only ever seem to get worse

I moved from one crummy “luxury” hotel to another in an attempt to see the area and save a few bucks. I wanted to see the construction in a town where I’m interested in buying some real estate.

Why am I looking at real estate? Well it’s for both investment purposes and for freedom of movement Plan B scenarios for my extended family. And nothing makes you appreciate America quite like not being able to rely on America for your family.

So apologies to anyone who needs me on the grid. It isn’t going to happen for a bit. You can text me but I might end up ignoring you unless it’s an emergency.

I’ve holed myself up with instant ramen, Gatorade, some fruit, and a 12 pack of bottle water and I hope that’s enough to get me to the other side of whatever is ailing me. Maybe I can sleep through it.

Truth be told I think I’m just sad. Or maybe it’s hormones. Maybe it’s the frustration of making any sort of plans that don’t involve America as I hate being of the country. I love Montana. I love America. It’s just harder being away from home.

Categories
Politics Preparedness

Day 1992 and Bad Feeling About This

I have had a gut feeling that won’t shake off. I’ve been trying to stay off the radar and keep my head down for a couple of weeks with the ambition of scouting ahead on a few projects and preparing a few next moves.

I feel as if we have so much information at our disposal as to the direction of the future and so little real actionable information as to how these trends will turn out. It’s very nerve racking

Ask anyone in technology right now and it’s a raw guts driven sentiment out there. Anything could happen including some very bad outcomes. It’s a “who knows except God and the those who control the compute” sentiment.

I feel a little queasy about something but I couldn’t tell you why. I don’t think stuff is irredeemably bad but the mess of politics, culture clashes and other sundry disagreements between continents, companies, factions and individual contributors isn’t ideal.

Categories
Travel

Day 1988 and European Interstate Highway System When?

I had a long travel day. I didn’t expect it to be long as the drive on Google Maps estimated it to be around 5 hours or so. That’s barely a third of my waking hours so I can easily shove that into an early morning and get a workday in right?

Alas I didn’t take into account that in America that’s four to five hundred miles of well maintained interstate travel. Easy peasy especially with a Starlink for rolling calls.

But in Europe it’s a whole other beast requiring concentration, quick corrections and constant change. Roads are a mishmash of local jurisdictions, variable paving quality and constant switches in speed limits and limited straightaways.

Also a lot depends on which country is in the EU versus Schengen zone (so many border crossings) versus just a NATO ally but neither EU nor Schengen.

Then finally you must factor in how corrupt its various elites happen to be at any given time versus when they are in a debt restructuring and revitalization phase. A corrupted ally might have much worse roads than a debt restructured southern EU member.

I did a cruising tour of coastal roads in the Mediterranean last summer from Croatia through Albania to Greece and then another run from Tirana to Istanbul so I’m not a total novice to grand tours.

But today felt exhausting as more need kept coming in and then my rolling calls got interrupted by my “hold on lemme get through this border crossing” as rather expectedly borders were on a bit of a high alert.

Thankfully I’ve made it to my destination just as the markets wrap in American after having stopped for a dinner I’d hoped would wrap quickly but turned into a leisurely discussion of the various news items of the day between Dutch, British, Swedish, Albanian, Slovenian and Greek tourists. They all seem to enjoy a long dinner while I just wanted to get my butt into bed so I could do some actual work and also write my post. So my duty is done. European driving in a nice Audi is harder than American driving in a base model Subaru. Fancy that.

Maybe Brussels should consider an interstate highway system for the European Union if they are serious about shouldering more of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization responsibilities. Eisenhower did a good thing making America’s system so free hero status to however can manage it on the continent.

Categories
Homesteading Preparedness Travel

Day 1986 and Non-Doms In Anarcho-Tyranny’s Future

I hate to be feeling anything but patriotic as we get closer to America’s 250th birthday this July 4th. America has so much optimism in my corners of the world from nuclear energy to artificial intelligence and I want to celebrate this with my countrymen.

Alas there is always the nagging feeling that no matter one’s dedication to one’s nation, having a plan B in place has proven wise. Historically speaking in times of great change, technological shifts, and generational hand overs it has paid to plan ahead and be flexible.

Maybe I feel this more keenly with the rise of antisemitism from populist camps both left and right. I’m not Jewish, but my husband is culturally Jewish.

The fear that lurks in the back of the mind can’t be dismissed. They are history’s favored scapegoat. And I can’t help but feel technology is right behind as the next source of blame.

Add in the challenges of getting travel visas for unfavorable passports in my extended family, and I am always abroad. I never excited visa issues to prevent someone from being allowed to visit my own family America and we’ve never found a solution in a half a decade of work and advocacy.

So now we consider having a hide-y hole secondary residency sometimes. Never in my life did I expect to lose years of our lives to trying to manage visas that simply cannot be granted or to decide that perhaps it might be wise to have another residency just in case.

Many other nationalities are “Non Doms” in cities like London for similar reasons. You may want to get further from the front of a kinetic conflict or perhaps your government is looking messy or corrupt, perhaps your work has caught the attention of Leviathan in your home but other nations will welcome the work you do.

So I have been keeping on the on other jurisdictions I could see us living in if only for vacations for now. I see the value in owning a plot of land and having residency on another country should my passport become a “bad” passport in the future. Being prepared has new boundaries.

Categories
Biohacking Travel

Day 1984 and Whimsy Exhaustion Efforts

My sleep has been really poor as I’ve been jaunting about pretending to be a Eurotrash island hopper for a week or so. It’s both glorious but a little concerning as restorative sleep is crucial.

I’ve not gone as long and as hard as I have this late spring into summer since I was diagnosed with an autoimmune condition. A condition that seems to have potentially gone into remission.

And I’m trying not to worry. Something about late evening sunsets extending daylight, last week’s brilliant full moon lighting up the bay over Corfu all through the night, and the intense physical combination of swimming, talking, and eating communally has made it feel like I’ll can’t come down at night.

A late sunset over Greece turns to moonrise all too quickly leaving bright light at all turns

Last night I fell asleep as the sun was rising around 4am despite doing everything I could to be asleep earlier. I got in bed at 10pm with a boom, did vagal nerve exercises and breathing, took an OTC sleeping pill and a Benadryl, used only red lights past sunset, and wore earplugs and eye mask. I was doing it all right and my body’s response was all wrong.

So today I am aggressively injecting whimsy and exertion into my day with the hope that the risk of a flare in my conditions will be mitigated by the efficacy of my peptide protocol. My sleep was most disturbed up on my pulse off days so perhaps as I pulse back on into the week it will be better?

My logic is simple. Surely a messed up circadian rhythm is more dangerous than running around getting my steps, buying little treats at Flying Tiger (a forever travel notebook?!) and doing mat Pilates with travel bands. I couldn’t possibly flare myself with that kind of gentle whimsy exhaustion as my nervous system isn’t being pounded by training but extended gently with enjoyment.

Categories
Medical Travel

Day 1981 and Unpacking Your Stuff

I write about packing so much on this daily blog that you’d think I’d have an equally large collection of posts on the art of unpacking. I enjoy unpacking emotions, family systems work, a complicated social graph so why not my travel bags?

The forethought and execution required for a well packed travel bag in summer high season is a tactical exercise I both love and loath. My husband and I compete on who can most effectively compress down different categories of items from first aid kits to travel cosmetics.

I am however in my mind not a particularly fastidious unpacker. Or maybe I am? I repack my bags on the return leg as closely as possible to resemble the outbound packing trip. There are labeled bags for under garments, separates, and dresses.

I’ll transition some garments into a bag that is designated laundry, but I’ll almost always take laundry detergent with me. So it’s not unusual for me to make a return trip with clean clothing. When one travels as much as I do it can help to treat as much of road life as you would your regular life.

I unpack immediately upon arrival at my destination whether that is home or away. I prefer to get things out and tucked into the proper drawers and line ups. This applies doubly when I return home. I once had a suitcase sit unpacked for two weeks after a particularly bad flare. It was a nightmare.

So today I had unpacking work that required a bit of disassembling of multiple types of trip packs from gala makeup and silk gown to Greek island hopping swimsuits and even Utah desert nuclear facility visiting garments. It’s been a pretty busy couple of weeks.

I feel almost like I’ve found the bits and bobs of items that were misplaced inside tiny pockets or stowed away in unseen baggies. I am still searching for a few things but unpacking why the unpacking took so long is for another day.

Categories
Aesthetics Biohacking Travel

Day 1979 and A Bathing Suit I Can Now Wear

My health must really be on the mend. Not so long ago (a thousand days or so) I could not tolerate wearing a bathing suit as the compression of the material hurt so badly.

Heat and sun only added insult to injury as my body struggled to manage inflammation. I had purchased a bathing suit I loved that became known as “the bathing suit I never wore” as I was simply packing it as an aspirational garment.

It was packed carefully in my suitcase trip after trip, in the hopes that I might have a good day without pain. Years went by and I never wore it. It was a sad joke. Not for aesthetics or vanity, but for the cruel pain that poor health puts you through.

If you go through the tags on the blog for ankylosing spondylitis you will see a journey of some length. The blog chronicles it from its starting years and, one day I hope, to its finish. I’ll may never be cured but I am finally living again.

The pale blue Ionian coastal waters protected from development and over traffic contain a beautiful array of fishes

I know it sounds silly that being able to wear a bathing suit without pain is a huge milestone, but I was unable to participate in the most basic outdoor activities with my own family.

A bathing suit was an aspirational garment not because I too afraid to be seen in it, but because the compression along my rib cage and spine hurt so badly.

And today I was on a boat for four straight hours including jumping off into the warm aquamarine waters of protected coastal Ionian water.

Nothing hurt at all. And I am not on any immune suppressant drugs at all at the moment. I am not on antibiotics. I am on a simple peptide regime. And now my swimsuit is being worn so often I need a second one so it can dry.

A halter top from Norma Kamali and a hat from a tourist shop.

Categories
Aesthetics Travel

Day 1977 and Summer Whites

Fashion rules are not hard rules. Soft rules apply to soft people who lovingly break them if something better would liven the mood. Being mercurial is a delight for them.

Soft rules do bind some people though. That’s the old canard about conservatism.

Conservatism consists of exactly one proposition, to wit: There must be in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect. Frank Wilhoit

If you take the above statement at face value it makes for interesting thought experiments. Is the fashion industry is a conservative industry? Why then does it present to some as an entirely progressive culture? Fashion scholars could go on at length.

And this cultural rules exist ,about when to wear white that no one follows except those who are fearful enough to have it forced on them.

I am on an island after Memorial Day so I’m well into wearing white territory. No white before Memorial Day or after Labor Day isn’t enforced now in any meaningful sense but years after late‑1800s upper‑class habits dictated a practical, status‑signaling summer color meant for seaside or country time which were put away when people returned to sootier cities in fall.

At least I hope you aren’t somewhere covered in soot in either winter or summer. I myself am in full costal grandma regalia from white cotton pants to summer weight cashmere. Isn’t it absurd we have summer weight wools? It should really be a tee shirt but like I said soft rules for soft people.

Pools on pools
Categories
Aesthetics Travel

Day 1976 and Ionian Island Ferries

Trains, planes and automobiles are nice but it’s not really summer till you have been on a boat. That’s right, I’m on a motherfucking boat. Well, I’m on ferry so the favored class of boat of certain Saturday Night Live cast mates.

I’m headed to a Greek island to relax with some friends. One of us came partially by train, one by ferry and car, and one by puddle jumper plane.

We’ve run the gamut of transportation across Europe to make it to a favored island known for its views, its caves, and of course its clear Ionian blue.

It’s been an adventure organized somewhat last minute as various itineraries made it clear we’d be within a few hundred miles of each other. So an Airbnb villa was procured at the last minute and the race was on to find our way to the island.

Grecian blue decks out the back/front of one of the many ferries leaving Port of Igoumenitsa

Igoumenitsa is the chief port of Thesprotia and Epirus, and one of the largest passenger ports of Greece, connecting northwestern Mainland Greece with the Ionian Islands and Italy via Wikipedia

I’m looking forward to a few leisurely days on the water, hopefully involving a few more boats but of the more manageable island hopping varietals. One can’t exactly jump off of a ferry into clear blue waters.

The chaos of loading a ferry fully of cars, mopeds, and tourist buses is an amusing sight. I’m not quite sure how the Greeks manage such an intensely maritime environment but it’s certainly a fun way to travel.

Small barking dogs, screaming children, sullen tweens, and irritated elders all being screamed at by deck hands is quite a way to start a relaxing time.