Stephen was sick the other day, so I promised I’d cook for him. I’m a pretty decent cook, but very rarely feel like doing it. Most of the time, I’m just throwing something together last-minute. This is another example of that, but it turned out really, really well.

Jillian’s Pineapple-Curry Chicken

Ingredients:

2 boneless chicken breasts
1/2 jar of VH’s Pineapple sauce
2 tbsps. hot curry spice
Fresh baby spinach
Sesame seeds

Thaw and cube two boneless chicken breasts and add them to a frying pan on medium-high heat. Add the pineapple sauce and mix in the curry spice.

Wash the baby spinach and put it in a bowl.

Once the chicken is cooked through and slightly blackened, spoon it on to the beds of spinach. Sprinkle the chicken with seasame seeds. Tasty!

I do, of course.

Last December, I went a got a second tattoo. I had this dream earlier this year that I was at a tattoo parlour, looking back over my shoulder into a large mirror, admiring a new tattoo. It was of a golden spiral:

In the dream, I was so happy. It looked great. So when I woke up without it, I was a bit disappointed.

So what did I do? I went and had it tattooed on for real.

Veronique at The Scarlet Ink did such an amazing job. Her ability to make perfect lines was amazing. I had been hesitant to get the tattoo until I saw her portfolio through my brother. I was blown away by her skill.

It was surreal standing in front of the big mirror in her studio, looking over my shoulder just as I had done in the dream. A supreme sense of deja vu.

Yesterday, I had the touch ups done and I’m so excited. It’s perfect.

It’s been awhile since I posted on any sort of regular basis. I feel badly about that, not because I know some of you are reading, but because I do this site mostly for myself and it feels like a let down to go so long without posting. This is the first post of what I hope will be a more regular schedule.

It’s probably my last time visiting Petra. It’s not just because this may be the last year we dig at Umayri in Jordan, but also, after three times visiting Petra, I’ve pretty much seen everything I wanted to see.

This leads to an interesting dynamic with my SLR. It largely spent the weekend in my backpack. My iPhone was where it was at. I had photographed all these monuments before with various cameras and I have so many photos of Petra.

Of course, it wasn’t just about the pictures, it’s about Petra being damaged by the constant onslaught of tourists. Tourists who are too lazy or fat to walk up the stairs to the Monastery on their own power, so they hire donkeys that are slowly destroying everything. I can understand if you’re handicapped or enfeebled from age, but beyond that, you should walk it. Sorry.

It was nice to see Petra again, though. It never ceases to be drop-dead gorgeous. And it was absolutely brilliant to hold Stephen’s hand while he walked through the Siq and saw the Treasury for the first time. There is no place like it and even though I’m thinking about doing something else that weekend on my next trip to Jordan, no archaeological site will hold more love or wonder for me.

We started the morning by hiking up to an overlook of the Treasury. It was a long way up with lots of stairs, but the view was incredible. Looking down on all the people and seeing the gorgeous rock-cut tomb below was amazing. I climbed down the rock-face a bit to get a better view and it was so worth the fear of heights.

After cooling down and resting up, we continued our trek clear across Petra to hike up to the Monastery. When we got to the top, I bought a face-smashing ring and had a lemonade with mint. And with that, I’ve seen and done everything I ever wanted to do in Petra.

Except for Little Petra.

This year, the Department of Antiquities limited the number of days we could spend in Petra to just one. To make up for losing a second day in gorgeous Petra, Doug offered to take us over to Little Petra, another rock-cut site about ten minutes away from Petra. It was a beautiful little place, no tourists to speak of and lots of things to climb on and explore. If you’re ever out this way, it is something not to miss.

Now, it’s time to recover from sunburns and considerably sore muscles earned from long hours in the sun and steep treks up many, many, many, many stairs.

My butt looks faaaaaaabulous.

While wandering around Shobek castle the other day, I wanted to photograph a tunnel. There was a little problem with this: I was exhausted from Petra weekend and the idea of lugging around my SLR through another set of ruins made me have a tired. It wasn’t happening. Good thing I like the camera on my phone. Bad thing that my phone does a crappy job of adjusting for varied light.

This was the result before I had a brilliant idea:

This was the result after I had a brilliant idea:

The difference? Badass sunglasses to the rescue. Turns out they make an awesome polarizer in a pinch.

My wonderful sunglasses from the 2005 Canada Summer Games swag package finally bit it the other morning. I went to put them on and they completely snapped in half. It was really sad because they were the greatest colour.

There was some opportunity within this tragedy though: buying badass, ridiculous Jordanian sunglasses.

There are some crazy fashions in terms of sunglasses here. A short trip to Al-Farid’s lead to the acquisition of a gorgeous pair of yellow and black rimmed insanity. They cost me 3.50 JD and they are probably the most fabulous thing I own now.

The one thing about living with 30 other people is that you’re living with 30 other people. 28 too many sometimes.

So this evening, Stephen and I went out for a walk around the Suq and then shisha at a rooftop patio near the King Hussein Mosque. It was such a gorgeous night and so nice to have some peace & quiet (as much peace & quiet Jordan can afford to give someone, that is).

This was my coffee:

Yes, it was tasty.

It’s been a bit of a whirlwind getting here – with emotions ranging from low to high. It’s been hard to think about how Saxon won’t be there when I get home, but there is a lot going on here to keep me preoccupied, so for now, I seem to be getting by fine.

The flights were okay, but I definitely couldn’t sleep on them for some reason. In the first week of being in Jordan, I didn’t get a full night’s sleep until Friday night, after a day of digging. It was all 3-hour bursts before that and I’m so glad that seems to be over.

Jordan is as beautiful as always. It feels like coming home. I guess I’ve finally spent enough time here for that to be a legitimate feeling now. It’s been exciting getting to show Stephen one of my favourite places and I seriously cannot wait to show him Petra – my favouritest place of all.

Meanwhile, the call to prayer still goes off and echoes across the city. It’s one of the best things of being here. If the insane traffic, the loud weddings, and the sometimes intense heat weren’t enough to remind you you’re far away from Canada, the beautiful sounds of the call to prayer will.

Of course, there’s always the great food to also remind me I’m not at home. Mostly because I don’t have to cook it myself. Or do the dishes afterwards. After a slightly rocky start (the cook accidentally fed me flour in one of the meals), the cook has been amazing. If it weren’t for Stephen, I would probably beg this man to marry me. Do you see the dish above? It was just as delicious as it looks, if not more so. If there were some sitting in front of me right now, I would gladly toss my computer on the floor and chow down. I would bring new meaning to the phrase, “Ana sameena wa saiida,” (I am fat and happy).

Tomorrow we tour around the city together, taking in all the archaeology nearby: the Citadel, Temple of Herakles (Hercules), the Roman Amphitheater, and the never-ending suq.

Related:

- A relavent bit of hilarity over at Nikki’s blog: Welcome to Jordan, bitch.
- Another relevant bit of hilarity involving me, karma, and a flat tire over at Sashiere’s blog: Enjoy Your Car Ride, Chumps!

Saxon, Mouse, and I

I love my dogs as much as the most important people in my world. I would have trouble choosing between one of my dogs and the people closest to me. That isn’t a slight to those people I love, it’s just a testament to how much I love my dogs.

Earlier this week, Saxon was diagnosed with lymphoma. The ultrasound pictures were jarring and tragic, disgusting and heartbreaking. Several years ago, we lost our last dog to lymphoma. It feels like cruel deja vu to have to go through this again.

I asked the vet how long she thought he had, her immediate answer was, “6 weeks.” No one can guarantee how long it will be. It might be a matter of a few weeks or maybe he’ll hold on for a few months. It’s hard to say. As long as he’s comfortable and happy, we’ll leave him be.

I’m struggling over the words, “6 weeks” though. Tomorrow, I leave for Jordan for the 2012 field season, which lasts about 6 weeks. So tomorrow, I have to operate on the idea that I might never see him again. I have hope he’ll pull through, but realistically, there’s no way to know.

Tomorrow, I’m supposed to give him his (potential) last kiss, tell him I love him (potentially) for the last time, and hug him once more. I don’t know how I’m supposed to walk away from him. I have to leave, but walking away from my darling Saxon is going to be the hardest thing I’ve had to do in my life.

My heart is breaking and I can’t seem to function. I love him so much and would do anything for him.

It’s less than a month away until I’ll be getting on a plane to go back to Jordan. I can’t say I pack this way, but I think it’s been tempting for everyone. There’s alway that thing you think you might need and what if that very situation comes up and you don’t have that thing and oh god if only you had brought it?!?!

I am contemplating more posts soon. I’ve fallen behind again, but if you could see my personal journal, you’d probably feel bad for me. At least here, I’m close to caught up, there I have entries dating back to December to write in.