Consider this a public service announcement. I repeat: Save your receipts!
I just took a long holiday which started in January. It’s a long flight to New York City. I arrived jet-lagged and my bag hadn’t made it onto the plane. It was about 0° Celsius and all my other sweaters were in Frankfurt. I was tired, annoyed, and cold.
Avoid gypsy cabs! Don’t get ripped off!signs warned. I booked a taxi to the city at JFK’s official airport kiosk in the International Arrivals terminal. My cab ride would cost about $77. Fair enough…
When the driver dropped me at my hotel I paid with a credit card and rounded up the bill to $95 to give him an $18 tip, stuffed the receipt in my wallet, and wearily climbed out of the cab. Let the holidays begin!
A week later in Mexico (I did say this was an extended trip) I logged into my bank’s website to see which charges had come in. There was my cab ride in NYC… $178.44.
WTF???
I remembered that receipt I’d stuffed in my wallet. Later I’d placed it with all the other receipts I’d accrued while traveling. I like to check them against the bank charges to be sure my account balances are still sufficient to cover costs. I dug through my bag (which had finally arrived almost 48 hours after I did) and found the receipt for the taxi ride. Check it out:
Did you spot it? He’d given himself a VERY generous $95 tip. I was so jet-lagged that without checking I’d just signed the credit card machine he’d held out. “Round it up to $95,” I’d told him. $95?” he’d repeated.
Maybe it had been an honest mistake. Or maybe as a driver picking up tourists traveling from overseas he’d figured that I would head on my merry way and never know that he’d knowingly given himself a tip that would cost me more than the ride itself. He figured I’d see the charge on my bank statement and not have any way to get my money back.
Check out that receipt again.
It gives his driver number. 5841026. It lists his cab number. 1P88. It names the date, time, distance, tunnel charges, starting point and destination, AND IT PROVIDES A WEBSITE!
I wrote a pissed-off email to the company and they reimbursed me for the tip charge ($95!!!) the next day. I don’t know what happened to Driver #5841026, but I enjoyed some fantasies… So. In conclusion, save your receipts.
And don’t leave the damned cab before you review what you’re being charged.
I am a Best American Essays-nominated writer. My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded, The Trail Back Out, and The Taste of Your Name. My most recent book The Taste of Your Name was a finalist for the 2025 Compass Press Book Award.
Anaïs Nin was born on February 21, 1903 in Neuilly-sur-Seine, France. She wrote essays, diaries, short stories, novels, and erotica. She befriended and promoted fellow author Henry Miller. Her work is strong, feminine, and unapologetically sexual. In her honor I am reprinting the post I wrote after we visited an amazing temple complex in India: Khajuraho. – Jadi
When we visited, Khajuraho could only be reached via a long trek on bad roads. Since we’re talking about India, this means the roads are bad indeed.
Where’d the road go?Down here maybe?
The driver we’d hired was there to meet us at our hotel in Agra, and off we went. Five bone-jolting hours later we reached our destination.
Along with its inaccessibility, Khajuraho is notorious for 1,000 year old, perfectly preserved, UNESCO World Heritage erotic carvings.
Somehow this site survived a millennia (millennia, people!), in a spot that had no fortresses or fortifications to speak of. The temple complex existed simply for the purpose of worship.
And what worship. Every single inch of the temple buildings are carved in high relief, depicting gods, tender lovers, voluptuous attendants, monkeys, elephants, assistants for the sexual act….
Hundreds of skilled stonemasons were hired to build the site. The Khajuraho region has excellent sandstone, and the sandstone temples were built with granite foundations. All were constructed without mortar! Instead, gravity holds the stones together with mortise and tenon joints.
Some of these stones are megaliths weighing up to 20 tons.
The glory of sandstone is that it loans itself to delicate carving. Even viewing the temple walls from the ground we could see the wrinkles in Ganesh’s trunk; the fingernails of the apsaras and the beads in their strands of jewelry; the sheer layers of veils over their thighs and buttocks.
Uwe vanished almost immediately with his camera, leaving me alone with the young male guide. I could feel my face go red, and it wasn’t a hot flash or sunburn. I was terribly afraid of how embarrassed I was going to be. But the guide pointed out the various depictions of the act of love and spoke in a clear calm voice, explaining the significance (pull your minds of out the gutter, dear readers) in terms of energy, religion, and esoteric philosophy.
It was mid-January, past the usual Christmas tourist season. It was also a two-week period when northern and central India get swathed in fogs – something smarter tourists than we knew. As a result we had the pleasure of being two of the few Westerners at the site.
Most of the others were Indians on holiday, and I was touched to see that at Khajuraho, this meant young married couples. They walked around the compound, standing in front of particularly erotic carved panels, heads together in discussion.
How about the next panel?Is that a new yoga position?
While only 10% of the carvings depict sexual acts, you can guess which panels elicited the most commentary. These were the love-making couples known as maithunas. Other carvings depict everyday activities: playing musicians, potters, farmers, soldiers on horseback, etc.
Musicians
The temples were probably built in the one hundred year period between 950 and 1050 AD, during the Rajput Chandella dynasty. According to historical records, by 1100 Khajuraho contained 85 temples covering 20 square kilometers. Roughly 20 temples still stand. They were located 60 kilometers from Mahoba, the medieval capital of the Chandela kingdom.
Khajuraho was mentioned by the Arabic historian Abu Rihan-al-Biruni, in 1022 AD, and by Ibn Battuta, the Moroccan traveler, in 1335 AD.
When Muslim rulers took control, heathen places of worship were systematically destroyed. Ironically, even centuries ago the remoteness of these temples helped secure their survival. Nature did the rest as vegetation and forest reclaimed the site. For years the temples were covered by dense date palm trees which gave the city its name: in Hindi, Khajur = date. (The more ancient name was Vatsa.)
The scenes explain Hinduism’s four goals for life: dharma (right way of living), kama (aesthetic enjoyment), artha (prosperity) and moksha (liberation). The complexity of the geometric layout and the grid pattern of the temples with their circles, squares and triangles, the importance of geographic orientation and bodies of water and the carvings’ iconography is beyond my very weak grasp. Instead, here is an excerpt from the UNESCO website:
Greatly influenced by the Tantric school of thought, the Chandela kings promoted various Tantric doctrines through royal monuments, including temples. Sculptors of Khajuraho depicted all aspects of life. The society of the time believed in dealing frankly and openly with all aspects of life, including sex. Sex is important because Tantric cosmos is divided into the male and female principle. Male principle has the form and potential, female has the energy. According to Hindu and Tantric philosophy, one cannot achieve anything without the other, as they manifest themselves in all aspects of the universe. Nothing can exist without their cooperation and coexistence. In accordance with ancient treaties on architecture, erotic depictions were reserved for specific parts of the temples only. The rest of the temple was profusely covered with other aspects of life, secular and spiritual. Source: UNESCO/CLT/WHC
Khajuraho remained forgotten by the outside world until 1838 when a British army engineer, Captain T.S. Burt, was carried in via palanquin. I laughed so hard when I read that the Victorian officer was shocked by what he found….
Khajuraho!
In memory of Anaïs Nin, February 21, 1903 – January 14, 1977
I am a Best American Essays-nominated writer. My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded, The Trail Back Out, and The Taste of Your Name. My most recent book The Taste of Your Name was a finalist for the 2025 Compass Press Book Award.
The ostrich is as about as smart as a box of rocks.
RUN! Etosha National Park, NamibiaHey! Where’d the lion go? Etosha National Park, Namibia
This bird is ridiculous! Oh, how the ostrich makes me laugh… just the sight of something so big, and awkward, and silly-looking cracks me up.
Maybe we’ll be safer here. Etosha National Park, Namibia
And stupid: the brain of an ostrich is roughly the size of a human eyeball.
The ostrich does make a pretty sculpture, though. Oudtshoorn, South Africa
And healthy, as well as tasty: ostrich meat has zero cholesterol. *
And striking, with all those feathers and angular limbs. When you see an ostrich running, their limbs go all akimbo.
Basket on the right: traditional Botswana basket pattern Running Ostrich
And lethal. Those spurs on the ostrich’s legs can be deadly. The spurs are found on males, who uses them in mating competitions or to defend territory. The ostrich needs them, because he can’t rely on superior brain power. Remember the comment about brains? An ostrich’s brain is the size of a human eyeball. And that’s a fact worth repeating, because it makes me start laughing all over again.
Garden Route, South Africa
God was in a great mood the day She invented this bird.
I am a Best American Essays-nominated writer. My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded, The Trail Back Out, and The Taste of Your Name. My most recent book The Taste of Your Name was a finalist for the 2025 Compass Press Book Award.
Elvis Aaron Presley was born on January 8, 1935 in Tupelo, Mississippi. He recorded when rhythm and blues was moving into the more mainstream rock & roll, and ‘Elvis the Pelvis’ brought rock & roll into scandalized living rooms across America. His long string of hits began with Heartbreak Hotel and include the exquisite Love Me Tender, his final hit Burning Love, and of course, Return to Sender. (I don’t have room to list all his hits and the influence he had!) Elvis sold 146.5 million certified album sales in the U.S. alone. He is among the best-selling singers of all time. In his honor I am reprinting the post I titled Return to Sender. – Jadi
One year in the middle of the month of April, not one but two Christmas cards I mailed off (both on the 17th of December) came back to me.
They carry yellow stickers. Return to Sender. Not Deliverable as Addressed. Unable to Forward.
One is a card for a friend I worked with in San Francisco in the early 1980s. We were secretaries in the Marketing Department of what at that time was a national-wide not-for-profit insurance company. Those were heady days, of alcoholic lunches when the bosses took you out at noon and you returned to the office several hours and many rounds later. After work, life meant meeting friends for drinks or beers at the neighborhood bars, and more restaurants and cultural events than you could count. I was in my twenties and living in ‘the big city’ for the first time.
San Francisco was a candy store, and I was a wide-eyed child with a big appetite.
The second returned Christmas card is addressed to the retired librarian from the University of Washington Health Services. I worked at UW in the late 1980s. I was going to massage school in my spare time, and my friend was keenly interested in what I was doing, as she was in anything to do with the world of healing. Traditional or alternative medicine: she always wanted to know more. She suggested we do a trade. I gave her massages right there in her office at lunch time. [1] She did document searches for me, tracking down peer-reviewed medical journal articles about massage in the days when massage was still a dicey career choice. (I was asked more times than I care to count what the name of the massage parlor was where I planned to ‘work’.) (Hah. Hah. Hah.)
My friend the librarian ran a working farm. We also traded those massage sessions in her office for packages amounting to half a lamb each spring. Once she snuck in a package of goat meat. “But how do I cook goat meat?” I protested.
“Really? Congratulations, Jadi. This is what people eat in a lot of places in the world. Figure it out!” I passed THAT package along to friends when I went to visit them. The husband is one of the best cooks I know, and Jim would have a solution. [2]
So here I am, firmly settled in Germany with my Swabian husband. I send out yearly Christmas cards along with a letter and a current photo taken by Uwe [3]. It’s my annual production, each letter hand stamped with glittery snowflakes. Because my mom made the most wonderful Christmas cards in the world. She had a husband and three very active little girls, and her cards were magic.
Mom would recruit us to help her color in the cards. I don’t know if this hand-painted card smeared then or later
My own, less clever Christmas cards are a way to remain connected to my mom’s tradition. And the cards are my way to remain connected, if I can, even if just one day out of the year, with the people who were in my life in various places at various times. Each of them helped me with their friendships more than they’ll ever know. Each year a few cards come back, and another friend has dropped from my life.
I still miss and love them all. [4]
In memory of Elvis Aaron Presley, January 8, 1935 – August 16, 1977
I am a Best American Essays-nominated writer. My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded, The Trail Back Out, and The Taste of Your Name. My most recent book The Taste of Your Name was a finalist for the 2025 Compass Press Book Award.
Today is the anniversary of the creation of The Endangered Species Act.
President Nixon signed The Endangered Species Act into law on December 28, 1973. The Endangered Species Act requires the federal government to protect threatened and endangered species and their critical habitat areas. According to the WWF website, “[t]he US Endangered Species Act (ESA) is our nation’s most effective law to protect at-risk species from extinction, with a stellar success rate: 99% of species listed on it have avoided extinction.”
Loss of habitat and genetic variation are the top reasons why a species becomes extinct.
The ICUN (the World Conservation Union) advises governments, scientists, academics, and conservation groups on when to designate a species as endangered. They maintain a Red List of Threatened Species with 9 levels of concern: not evaluated, data deficient, least concern, near threatened, vulnerable, endangered, critically endangered, extinct in the wild, and extinct.
Why protect species? The National Wildlife Federation’s explanation is worth repeating verbatim. Once gone, they’re gone forever, and there’s no going back. Losing even a single species can have disastrous impacts on the rest of the ecosystem, because the effects will be felt throughout the food chain. From providing cures to deadly diseases to maintaining natural ecosystems and improving overall quality of life, the benefits of preserving threatened and endangered species are invaluable.
Last year Uwe and I took a trip in Botswana, Namibia, Zimbabwe and South Africa. We got to view animals in their natural habitats. Many of them are listed as endangered.
Among the species on the endangered list: The African elephant.
Loxodonta africana. Moremi Game Reserve, Bostwana
Both black and white rhinos.
Rhinoceros. Endangered. Etosha National Park, Namibia
The African wild dog.
Lycaon pictus. Endangered. Moremi Game Reserve, Botswana
The Southern right whale.
Eubalaena australis. Endangered. Walvis Bay, Namibia
The cheetah.
Acinonyx jubatus. Endangered. Etosha National Park, Namibia
I am a Best American Essays-nominated writer. My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded, The Trail Back Out, and The Taste of Your Name. My most recent book The Taste of Your Name was a finalist for the 2025 Compass Press Book Award.
I’m excited to announce that my fifth book is now available!
The Taste of Your Name is the story of an erotic triangle, reclaimed memories, the fates of refugees, and the importance of bread. The story also delves into the history of qurt, koliva, witch cakes, and sin foods. Once you finish reading, nothing will ever taste the same again.
Mustafa is a Syrian refugee who runs a bakery in Stuttgart with an American woman named Neela. Her German stepsister Jo provides trauma massage for a war refugee who refuses to talk about what happened. Neela and Jo both have a relationship with Brian, who is trying to retrieve their grandmother’s memories.
How do we resolve memories, the ones we can’t remember or desperately want to forget? How do food traditions unite us? What happens when reality, bad or good, overtakes your life? Read this book and get ready to forget the outside world for a while!
The Taste of Your Name was a finalist for the 2025 Compass Press Book Award. Available at Amazon or Barnes and Noble, as eBook and Kindle, paperback, and hardcover. Follow these links for Amazon.com or Amazon.de.
I am a Best American Essays-nominated writer. My previous books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded and The Trail Back Out.
Tsunami Cowboys was longlisted for the 2019 ScreenCraft Cinematic Book Award. Broken In: A Novel in Stories was semifinalist for the international 2020 Hawk Mountain Short Story Collection Award from Hidden River Arts and Finalist for Greece’s 2021 Eyelands Book of the Year Award (Short Stories).
The Trail Back Out was the 2023 San Francisco Book Festival Winner for General Fiction, American Book Fest 2020 Best Book Award Finalist: Fiction Anthologies, Runner-Up for the 2021 Top Shelf Award, 2021 IAN Book of the Year Award Short Story Collection Finalist, and awarded a 2021 Wishing Shelf Red Ribbon. The title story The Trail Back Out was longlisted for the 2021 ScreenCraft Cinematic Short Story Award.
THE CUPID QUESTION by Jadi Campbell featuring THE NEATLES on Monday, October 7 @ MERLIN!
Girl Groups of The ’60s – Pre-Beatles Queens of The Pop Chart
THE NEATLES – Jasmine Thorn, Gabby Nelson, Vanessa Wagner, Jasmina Dordevic, Elena Gallego Jimenez, Ashley Remus, Samantha Mohr, Paula Gil-Casares, Charles C. Urban – Photos by Uka Meissner deRuiz
THE CUPID QUESTION by Jadi Campbell featuring THE NEATLES & Storyteller Derrick Jenkins
Girl Groups of The ’60s – Pre-Beatles Queens of The Pop Chart
“The Girl Group music was perhaps the most carefully, beautifully crafted in all of Rock & Roll – one reason why none of the twenty or so best records in the genre have dated in the years since they were made.” – Author and Music Critic Greil Marcus
In Pop Music History, the phenomenon between early Rock & Roll and the mid-1960s British Invasion is known as the Era of the “Girl Groups.” They offered a style rich in vocal harmonies that was eagerly embraced by a wide audience. The girl group era produced a clearly identifiable hybrid of gospel, rhythm & blues, doo-wop, and quirky pop that epitomized the ebullient hopes of early 1960s culture and feminized rock music, providing a model for male beat groups such as the Beatles, who covered many Girl Group hits on their early albums.
Flourishing between 1958 and 1965 – between Elvis and The Beatles – Girl Groups were genuine, authentic Rock & Roll! The music of The Shirelles, The Angels, The Ronettes, The Chiffons, The Marvelletes, The Shangri-las, The Bobettes, etc. thrived in the fallow years of Rock & Roll while much of the rest of the music in this time grew tame, predictable and dull.
The original sound was characterized by raw-edged lead vocal, echoing harmonies from the backing vocalists, fulsome string arrangements, and a driving beat. Groups sang of teen concerns like romance, sexual etiquette, and marriage, as well as love, loss, and abandonment. It was music of celebration – of simple joy, of innocence, of sex, of life itself. It was utopian stuff – a utopia of love between a boy and a girl, a utopia of feeling, of sentiment, of desire most of all.
The sound exploded in 1961, following the release in late 1960 of The Shirelles’ WILL YOU LOVE ME TOMORROW – the first girl group single to reach number one. Over the next five years, hundreds of girl group records were released. During the Classic Girl Group Period, between 1961 – 1965, when this distinctive sound filled the radio air waves, some 750 Girl Groups put singles onto the pop chart. This is some of the most timeless, transporting pop ever recorded; when you hear a Girl Group hit today, you feel like it’s 1963 all over again.
Author and Music Critic Greil Marcus states: “The music was perhaps the most carefully, beautifully crafted in all of Rock & Roll – one reason why none of the twenty or so best records in the genre have dated in the years since they were made.”
THE CUPID QUESTION by Jadi Campbell featuring THE NEATLES…!
PERFORMANCE – Monday, October 7 at 20:00 hrs in MERLIN
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded and The Trail Back Out.
Tsunami Cowboys was longlisted for the 2019 ScreenCraft Cinematic Book Award. Broken In: A Novel in Stories was semifinalist for the international 2020 Hawk Mountain Short Story Collection Award from Hidden River Arts and Finalist for Greece’s 2021 Eyelands Book of the Year Award (Short Stories). The Trail Back Out was the 2023 San Francisco Book Festival Winner for General Fiction, American Book Fest 2020 Best Book Award Finalist: Fiction Anthologies, Runner-Up for the 2021 Top Shelf Award, 2021 IAN Book of the Year Award Short Story Collection Finalist, and awarded a 2021 Wishing Shelf Red Ribbon. The title story The Trail Back Out was longlisted for the 2021 ScreenCraft Cinematic Short Story Award.
Click here for my author page to learn more about me and purchase my books.
This summer I took a train to Hamburg for the first time. Hamburg has more bridges than Venice, Amsterdam and London combined. The St. Pauli Reeperbahn is where the Beatles got their start playing in small clubs. (It’s pretty seedy in the daytime, but I did spot the life-sized silhouettes of the Fab Four.)
The one thing my friend Diana was insistent on seeing was the Miniatur Wunderland. This is the world’s largest model train museum.
Layout size: 1,490 square meters or 16,038 square feet.
It cost 45 Million Euros and (thus far) has taken 760,000 hours to build. The museum contains 42 planes in the air, 9,250 cars, and 1,040 trains. The sets include 1,380 signals, 385,000 LEDs on 15,4000 meters of tracks that light up 4,110 buildings, 260,000 figures, and 130,000 miniature trees.
The model of the Elbesimfonie building opens up to reveal the inside rooms
The rooms go dark for part of each hour and the exhibits light up!
All the vehicles are moving
Now take a look at the SCALE….
The people who built these models must have great senses of humor. You have to squint anyway to take in all the details (260,000 figures! 130,000 tiny trees!). But when you begin to look you see the funniest things.
Mama mia! Check out that giant pizza
I’ll end this with my personal favorite: A boat on Venice’s Gran Canale filled with wild animals.
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded and The Trail Back Out.
Tsunami Cowboys was longlisted for the 2019 ScreenCraft Cinematic Book Award. Broken In: A Novel in Stories was semifinalist for the international 2020 Hawk Mountain Short Story Collection Award from Hidden River Arts and Finalist for Greece’s 2021 Eyelands Book of the Year Award (Short Stories).
The Trail Back Out was the 2023 San Francisco Book Festival Winner for General Fiction, American Book Fest 2020 Best Book Award Finalist: Fiction Anthologies, Runner-Up for the 2021 Top Shelf Award, 2021 IAN Book of the Year Award Short Story Collection Finalist, and awarded a 2021 Wishing Shelf Red Ribbon. The title story The Trail Back Out was longlisted for the 2021 ScreenCraft Cinematic Short Story Award.
Click here for my author page to learn more about me and purchase my books.
Jorge Luis Borges was born on August 24, 1899 in Buenos Aires, Argentina. He was a colassal figure in Spanish language arts and letters. His work is classified as fantasy and philosophical literature; he was a poet and translator, too. My second book Tsunami Cowboys includes a quote of his.
Borges said, “Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire.” [1]
In his honor I am reprinting the post I wrote after visiting a tiger park in India. – Jadi
“A brave heart and a courteous tongue,” said he. “They shall carry thee far through the jungle, manling.” —The Jungle Book, Rudyard Kipling [2]
We’re in India for a few weeks and currently we’re riding in the back of an open jeep. We spent the better part of five hours each day on really bad roads to get here.
Now we’re layered in the few long-sleeved clothes we brought along. How cold can it be if you’re not way up north trekking in the Himalyas?
How cold? Man, it’s effing freezing.
It’s shortly after 6 a.m. in the Bandhavgarh Tiger Reserve and we’ve been up since 5:00. “Remind me,” I beg. “What are we doing here?” I wrap the blanket the tiger lodge lent us tighter around my body. (What I really want is a sub zero temperatures sleeping bag.) “Remind me,” I ask again. “Why are we doing this?”
“You wanted to come back to India,” Uwe prompts.
“Oh, yeah. Now I remember.” And it’s true: I was really excited to return. I fell in love with the subcontinent when we visited a decade ago. In Goa we walked miles of pristine beaches. In Karnataka we attended an astonishing Nandi Purnima, the full moon festival, and Hampi was a bare landscape filled with gigantic boulders and ancient temples.
In a country this exotic and large, surely we’d experience something new when we came back. What I did not expect was that I’d be freezing my ass off.
***
Entrance to Bandhavgahr National Park
We’re doing a mix of culture and nature. India is one of the two most populated countries on the planet, and we thought it would be smart to schedule some time in quieter areas too. I’m glad we did. The north central region of Madya Pradesh is green and varied and home to some of the few remaining wild Bengal tiger populations.
So for two days at Bandhavgarh and a day at Kanha National Park*, we haul our sorry butts out of bed at the crack of dawn, pull on all our clothes and drape ourselves in borrowed blankets. 6 a.m.-1 p.m. for the early safari; 3-6 p.m. for the afternoon attempt. If we’re lucky, we’ll spot a big cat.
We’re not lucky. We’re cold.
***
Later we shed layers as the day warms up. The parks contain barking and spotted deer,
gaurs, nilgai,
lemurs and langurs,
wild peacocks and other birdlife,
Green bee-eater
Crested hawk-eagle
wild boar,
and a landscape filled with watering holes and high grasses, forest and farmers’ villages. On the second day at Bandhavgarh our jeep carries a park ranger to inspect a water buffalo kill from the night before. It occurred just outside the official boundary of the preserve and the farmer will be reimbursed for the animal the tiger took down.
One dead water buffalo
We aren’t allowed to leave the jeep – ever – and the ranger approaches the carcass very slowly.
Be sure you notice that the ranger’s got on lots of clothes too.
Where there’s a fresh kill, the big cat can’t be far.
I mean it: it’s really cold out.
By the third day I’ve perfected what I name the mummy wrap. I have myself wrapped so tight that I literally can’t move, but this way the blanket doesn’t unwind in the cold wind.
Brr.
And, suddenly, a tiger leaps from the forest, followed by his mate. He moves into the reeds and returns dragging a dead spotted deer by the neck.
We see them for less than a minute and those seconds are absolutely worth the days of waiting. My God, they’re magnificent! During the afternoon safari we get lucky again: 10 seconds of spotting a shyer, rarer leopard.
The leopard moved unconcerned in the back through the high grass
Uwe captures the group of spotted deer nervously fleeing the leopard. He’s in Photographer Heaven.
Naturally we’re already dreaming – about an African safari.
In memory of Jorge Luis Borges, 24 August 1899 – 14 June 1986
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded, and The Trail Back Out.
Tsunami Cowboys was longlisted for the 2019 ScreenCraft Cinematic Book Award. Broken In: A Novel in Stories was semifinalist for the international 2020 Hawk Mountain Short Story Collection Award from Hidden River Arts and Finalist for Greece’s 2021 Eyelands Book of the Year Award (Short Stories). The Trail Back Out was the 2023 San Francisco Book Festival Winner for General Fiction, American Book Fest 2020 Best Book Award Finalist: Fiction Anthologies, Runner-Up for the 2021 Top Shelf Award, 2021 IAN Book of the Year Award Short Story Collection Finalist, and awarded a 2021 Wishing Shelf Red Ribbon. The title story The Trail Back Out was longlisted for the 2021 ScreenCraft Cinematic Short Story Award.
Click here for my author page to learn more about me and purchase my books.
Johnny Hartman was born July 3, 1923 in Houma, Louisiana. As a jazz singer Johnny Hartman is most famous for his 1963 collaboration with saxophonist John Coltrane on the sublime album John Coltrane and Johnny Hartman. Also playing on the album are McCoy Tyner, Jimmy Garrison, and Elvin Jones. (This was John Coltranes’s only album with a singer!)
Hartman was a crooner par excellence. Frank Sinatra’s name might be more famous, but from the first time I heard Hartman singing a song I knew who I’ll forever prefer. I discovered him late in life, the soundtrack to a film perhaps, or playing on a jazz radio station. In any case, I promptly bought three of his CDs. When I’m in a mood for love or my spirit needs soothing, I listen to his voice. In his honor here is a post I wrote about romance. How can I not honor him? Hartman’s kind of music will never go stale. – Jadi
For twenty-five years (minus a day) I had a memory of rose-colored glass. Uwe and I got married over a quarter of a century ago. Aside from thinking Yikes, how did that happen?!, I have sighed Awwww. Not many things last this long, especially when we’re talking about human beans….
You know how some couples seem to glide through life without ever having a disagreement?
We aren’t that couple.
walking around a town with even more history than we have
But I distinctly recall that the hotel room where we spent our first night as husband and wife had old-fashioned windows with glass panels in various colors. I can remember looking at those little panes and thinking, How wonderful to begin married life looking at the world through rose-colored glasses. That first image has comforted me countless times. It’s provided me with endless inspiration, and I love telling friends the story of those old windows that shimmered and glowed like gemstones.
We wanted to return to the little town in Alsace where it all began. We booked the same hotel and both of us think we may even have been given the same room. We drove over a day before our anniversary and checked in as it began to rain. The sight of the rain on the windows was get outta here romantic.
I took some pictures. But later, checking to make sure my photos turned out, I was puzzled. The views of the village outside the windows had stayed pretty. But, wait a second: where were the colored panes of glass both of us are sure we remember?
Had my mind and emotions played tricks all these years, keeping me roped in with a faulty metaphor? Or is my eye sight seriously that bad?
The mystery was solved by a friend who reminded me that hotels – especially old ones – spend money on renovations. So, along with the elevator that was not there when we checked in 25 years ago, the windows were probably recent too. The glass in the windows is now textured, maybe ‘pebbled’ is the word I want. The view is still ever so slightly wavy and distorted…
We had three gorgeous days in one of our favorite regions in Europe. Yes, it remained romantic. As you can see from the photos, with rain or without, the views from the windows are lovely.
And, in the right light, my world as a married woman still looks rose-colored.
no my vision wasn’t impaired by the wine we bought at this winery, founded in 1728…
In memory of Johnny Hartman, 3 July, 1923 – 15 September, 1983
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded, and The Trail Back Out.
Tsunami Cowboys was longlisted for the 2019 ScreenCraft Cinematic Book Award. Broken In: A Novel in Stories was semifinalist for the international 2020 Hawk Mountain Short Story Collection Award from Hidden River Arts and Finalist for Greece’s 2021 Eyelands Book of the Year Award (Short Stories). The Trail Back Out was the 2023 San Francisco Book Festival Winner for General Fiction, American Book Fest 2020 Best Book Award Finalist: Fiction Anthologies, Runner-Up for the 2021 Top Shelf Award, 2021 IAN Book of the Year Award Short Story Collection Finalist, and awarded a 2021 Wishing Shelf Red Ribbon. The title story The Trail Back Out was longlisted for the 2021 ScreenCraft Cinematic Short Story Award.
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