Lod's Little Anecdote Session

Well, I'm in Ukraine, with our laptop (hee hee, notice how every possession is now ours...we have no individualism) hooked up to the internet.  Which means we should be able to post pictures soon.  Yay!  But for now, allow me to amuse myself with a few anecdotes I meant to tell before and didn't.  Except between sitting down and typing all that, I have, of course, forgotten them... but I should be able to recall a couple.

Okay, remember how I said we would have wrecked our boat on Lake Bled if Caitlin had been with us?  (Just say yes)  Well, I suppose I should admit that ironic and tragic things do happen to us occasionally even without the Caitlinator (I was testing out a new nickname.  It failed.).  The particular instance I'm referring to took place in Heraklion, on Crete.  For a typical sojourn into a new land, we would have booked our accommodation online ahead of time...for two reasons.  One is that we're paranoid freaks who don't want the hostel to fill up before we get there.  (Hey, it happens.)  The second reason is that especially in the off peak season, and especially especially in Greece, if someone doesn't know you're coming, they may not be there to greet you.  However, we threw caution to the wind in this instance, and arrived on the island of Crete without a reservation.  (We had our reasons.)  And so, for the first time, we felt like real, honest to goodness (what does that phrase even mean?) backpackers.  Because before we went to look for a hotel or hostel (we had some addresses), we had to figure out if we were really going to stay there, and how long.  It was all dependent on whether or not we were going to be able to scuba dive.  And so we set out with our big packs on our backs to find either a tourist information office or a travel agency.  Possibly both.  From the bus station we walked from place to place until we found the center of town.  From there we went back and forth, back and forth, trying to find something that was open and could help us.  Of course, once we found the tourist office, we discovered that though they said they opened at 8:30, they really didn't.  Nor did they open at 9.  I really don't know when they opened.  We finally found a travel agency that was not only opened, but also helpful (imagine that).  She found a number we could call to see if we could arrange a scuba diving adventure.  Then we had to find a place where we could make a phone call.  We were directed to a place that might have a call center, but in the end it was just a place where you could buy phone cards.  Since our call was local though, they let us use their phone for free.  We got in touch with the scuba guy, who said he could possibly arrange something, and that we should call him back that evening.  Question semi answered, we decided it was time to find a place to stay.  We had walked a long way, and were a little turned around, but with a little help, we were able to find our way all the way back to the bus station, and from there followed our directions around towards the two best accommodation options we had.  Unfortunately, the first one was not even open (quite discouraging, I can tell you), but the second option was, and so we checked in.  In the end the scuba trip didn't work out, but that's not the irony or the tragedy.  After all, we later got to scuba dive in Turkey, at probably a much lower price.  No, the irony is this: on our final day in Heraklion, we were walking around the city a little.  Well, a lot.  We had stored our luggage at the hotel, and were finally headed back.  As we were almost there, we found ourselves in a little park.  We had been in this park several times before, but had usually approached it from the other side.  Suddenly, things started looking familiar.  I said, "Hey, it's another one of those phone shops, like we went to on our first day here..."  Until, to our horror, we realized it was the same shop.  We continued past the park down a little street, which we had indeed ventured down that first day.  And had we gone further still down that street that day after wandering all over creation, just walked even five more steps, we would have turned a slight corner and seen our very own hotel, standing proud. Instead we walked back, got lost, got found, walked all the way around the main square and down the incline towards the bus station, all along the coast, and in towards the city again.  Maybe you had to be there, but it was just about the funniest thing...our slow realization...it was pretty priceless.  And since that little anecdote turned into a long winded story, there's nothing for it but to dive into another one.

Hem hem.

The Lod Who Went Up a Ladder and Came Down On Her Backside

Hmm.  Well, that about sums it up.  But since that wasn't nearly long enough, let me elaborate.  We're staying in the attic at the Lynch home.  It's a very nice attic, with carpet and heating and all that.  But in order to get up there, you have to climb a ladder.  A vertical ladder...no slope.  Normally, this wouldn't bother me.  I love perching.  Actually, it doesn't bother me.  Even when I have things in my hands, it's kind of fun to figure out how I'm going to manage the climb.  However, a few days ago, as I was climbing down, my hands and feet decided to let go at the same time.  Unfortunately for the rest of me, they made this decision when I was at the top of the ladder, rather than at the bottom, like good little hands and feet.  The result?  I fell.  All the way down.  One couldn't say I fell off the ladder, as I didn't fall backwards (which would have been much much much worse, I'm sure you can imagine), but rather a fell downwards, with my hands (and apparently elbow) banging along the rungs on the way.  And I landed on my bum.  Yeah...um, it hurt.  But no worries.  I'm just dandy.  Except that I'm a little sore.  And it kind of hurts to sit.  And it's a little embarrassing to fall down a ladder ("Really, Joanie, I don't do this a lot...").  But I usually like to get these things over with early on, so I can enjoy the rest of my time at any given place.  Like when I started a fire in a microwave at L'abri.  After that, everything went smoothly in the kitchen.  And no, not because I was kicked out.  Because I wasn't.  Actually, oddly enough, they put me in the kitchen a lot that week.  Go figure.

Hem hem.

Wellllll...yup, they're all gone.  I have loads and loads of anecdotes from even months ago, but they leave my brain pretty quickly.  I'm sure someday some conversation will trigger them.  But whatever.  Cheers!

Did ew know...?

People in Europe care more about American politics than I do.

Thank you for choosing Lod's Little Tidbits, and have a nice day.