Wednesday, September 5, 2018

down another rabbithole

Every so often I discover something new that takes up all of my attention, maybe to the point of obsession. Last year I became obsessed with tropical flowers and scents of my childhood, and spent months hunting down niche perfumes that were evocative of tropical scents. I finally found Les Nez' Manoumalia, a scent so powerful and literal that I would never subject any members of the public to its pungent exuberance, but it's something that I really enjoy dabbing onto my wrists when I'm stuck indoors in inclement weather. Why don't I wear it in public? Because it is not an easy scent and quite the opposite of the more subdued, unisex "skin scents" that I prefer. It leaves a trail that can compete with the sillage monsters of the 1980's (I'm looking at you, Drakkar and Poison); but it is not a "power fragrance" with all of its white flowers and strangely rotting, vegetal undertones. I both love and hate it, and thus it does not leave the home with me.

So my latest foray is into the world of fountain pens. As someone whose AP art portfolio consisted of ink drawings, and who ended up becoming an architect, this seems a natural progression. I have always been very particular about my pens. My office kit consists of several varieties of the Pigma Micron, Pilot and Pentel sign pens, and the Pentel Stylo. In fact, the Stylo is a disposable fountain pen. I dove into fountain pens for a reason not at all related to aesthetics: earlier this year SB and I did an audit over how to be better at environmental consciousness and eventually I reviewed that large number of pens that I go through on a monthly basis in the course of my work.

I am now in the middle of a full fledged pen and ink obsession, testing out colleagues' pens and I've already ordered several beautiful inks for the pen or pens that I don't yet own. I had a friend pick up some Robert Oster "Fire and Ice" ink when she was in Australia, and another from Maryland is bringing to me Organic Studio's "Walden Pond". Now I just need the vessel to set sail.


Monday, July 23, 2018

in which I rant about sporks

Yes, this is a blog post dedicated to ranting about the spork.

SB and I are soon to be embarking on some backwoods camping in the Adirondacks. Unlike our HK beach camping experience where we were a bit casual about provisions owing to a village within a 15 minute walk, this excursion requires proper planning. There is no village that will sell water, or rent out sleeping bags when we discover that our bones do not appreciate sleeping on the sand. I mean, even our dogs were trying to climb onto us for softer bedding than that packed sand that seemed so comfortable when we were not trying to sleep.

So I made lists and checked twice and then checked thrice. I love planning and entered into the backpacking provisional list with joy and military precision. We have sleeping bags and very comfortable, lightweight air beds. We have our trusty cookware and water filters. We have an ultralight tent, but one made for four people because we appreciate comfort and bringing our gear out of the probable rain over those 250 grams that we would have saved with a 2 person tent. I finally overcame my frugality and invested in some highly recommended, technical, ultralight outerwear. As a result, each of us will be carrying packs that come in under 6kg, including the pack base weights.

I didn't want to go truly ultralight because I appreciate my luxuries and comfort. However, I did not want to be slogging for several hours into the woods with an excessive burden, so I lost weight where I could and read through many, many ultralight packing lists. On a side note, there are a lot of backpackers who enjoy publishing their packing lists.

One thing that came up over and over again on the lists was a spork. Not only have backpacking suppliers found a way to make lighter, strong titanium cutlery, but they decided to save even more weight by combining everything into one utensil.



This is the most popular spork for backpackers, the Light My Fire Spork

Now, let the ranting begin:

  1. Ultralight backpacking has become an fixation, with many a trekker obsessed with reducing their overall weight by the gram to the point of obsession. I'm talking to you, camper who is slicing their toothbrush in half to save weight. I might forgive the people who are thru hiking the Appalachian Trail, Pacific Crest, or Continental Divide, which take months to complete, but for the average backpacker, this is crazy. The weight savings of combining your spoon, fork, and knife into one utensil simply cannot outweigh the costs in terms of utility.
  2. I have a plastic spork that came with my lunch kit. It sits at the bottom of my utensil drawer, where it will stay until I move. If you ever wanted a fork with such shallow tines that you can only use it to stab at carpaccio, but with the risk of the carpaccio sliding off onto your blouse, this is the utensil for you. If you ever wanted a spoon with pointy bits to stab the side of your mouth, this is right up your alley.
  3. And then there is the cutting edge. My spork does not have a cutting edge but the most popular spork does. So there you are, wanting to cut your food and thankfully you brought your spork. You start to saw away with the pathetic, serrated side when you realize that you need something to hold the food in place while you saw at it. If only you had something like a fork with you.
  4. Most sane backpackers bring a folding pocket knife. It is used for things such a cutting. Or stabbing the person who is offering you a spork.

Tuesday, July 17, 2018

fit for posterity


I saved this screenshot of Fox News so that I can remember how they reacted differently than most of the rest of the world, including many Republicans, to Trump's boot licking of Putin.

Although it seems that a couple others are going to hell with their leader. Via Slate:

VP Pence offers a rose-colored view of Trump's Putin summit: "What the world saw, what the American people saw, is that President Donald Trump will always put the prosperity and security of America first."

Sen. Mike Rounds (R-S.D.) who is the chairman of the Senate Armed Services Cybersecurity Subcommittee, offered up this explanation: "Everything I’ve seen and all the facts are very clear: Russia did meddle in our election. That was very clear. So I think what actually happened, I think Mr. Putin just got out-Trumped by Trump. If Mr. Putin thinks he can tell a whopper, he’s not gonna be outdone by this president. And so if Mr. Putin is going to look at him and try to straight-faced tell him that they didn’t meddle, our president can look right back at him and tell just as big a whopper back to Putin as Putin told him." 

Sunday, July 15, 2018

vomit comet

While I was splashing about the reservoir with the dogs, SB was on a hydrofoil on his way to Macau with a large group of mostly Canadian hockey players, to celebrate the impending nuptials of the largest of the group, a 6'3" boulder of a man, and Happy Valley neighbor. According to his professional career stats, he shoots left, something that might be helpful if you run into him at your local and want to arm wrestle. SB reported that the seas were rough and that their group was surrounded by vomiting passengers, not an auspicious start to the festivities. The groom, a former Navy diver on top of his hockey creds, was reduced to sweats and shakes by the time they arrived. SB noted that an army of mop bearing cleaners invaded as soon as the doors opened.

The rest of the weekend went very well. SB didn't share all of the details because it would be unsporting, but the rain didn't present an issue at all once they were on land. They even managed time at the pool, albeit without much sunshine, but this might have been a boon for a group of people of the tundra. Now, because the other details of the weekend aren't forthcoming, I must surmise that they spent their time cloud-bathing and drinking clamato.

I imagine that the return trip will be even more exciting, with passengers not being in their best sea form.

Monday, July 9, 2018

never such a believer

On Saturday evening, SB and I attended a house party attended by a large number of Brits. You would have thought we were attending a funeral, so morose were the guests. While stating that they were going to cheer for England in the upcoming match against Sweden, they were the saddest, droopiest group of football fans that I've encountered since SB sulked his way through the Denver Broncos, his team, winning the Superbowl.

These ardent England fans reminded each other how the Three Lions hadn't won since 1966. They sang like a Greek chorus about the failed exploits of their football gods, struck down in their Olympian feats by equally Olympian tragic devices of hubris, injury, and women. Well, this time around Helios will have no objection to their success considering how humbly their supporters are showing their support. I half expect them to wear black and wail through the final should they reach it.

Thursday, July 5, 2018

for barking out loud

With the summer temperatures, the only safe hikes with dogs occur along streams and/or during dawn/dusk. There is also the option of night hiking but I've all but abandoned that because of my dogs' fondness for rooting out boar and porcupines.

Of course, dusk hikes present similar problems because as the forest creatures begin making their treks toward food and watering holes, the dogs' prey drive goes into overdrive. Tippy is especially prey driven and likes nothing more than darting into bushes to flush out irate ground birds or offend a hapless boar with eardrum splitting yelps of excitement. Thankfully she is only about the chase and not interested in any follow up action, not that this reassures me when she's after quilled or tusked prey.

This weekend, Tippy seemed much more focused than usual and it was not especially surprising when she darted off into the brush and disappeared for five minutes. She kept disappearing into the brush and appearing somewhere ahead of my plodding pace until finally she took off like a furry rocket after something. After a few minutes, we heard her excitedly barking in the distance and called her back (recall when she is in this kind of a state does eventually work but not immediately). She returned, panting hard with her tongue practically dragging on the ground and looking mighty excited.

A few minutes later, we came upon this set of tracks, clearly from our Tippy.


And then...


Well, it looks like our barking mad dog was tracking and chasing a barking deer. The best response to being chased is to stop running, like our neighborhood cats have learned, because Tippy is not interested in stationary prey. I doubt that the deer cares much for this advice. 

Friday, June 22, 2018

Bowen Road Fitness Trail


The Bowen Road trail is popular and infamous. Thanks to a psychopath, or likely more than one of them, leaving poison and killing family pets, I have not really visited Bowen Road in the years since SB and I adopted Tippytoes and Elsie. Today SB took the little weasels to splash in the stream so I took the opportunity to revisit the urban trail. I walked out of Happy Valley and steamed my way on hot pavement along Kennedy Road to Bowen Drive, which is opposite a Sinopec station. The incline up Bowen drive will get your heart rate going. If you want to get the full 4k Bowen Trail experience, you would walk slightly further down to Kennedy Road and up Borrett Road.



You can gauge your incline by comparing the floors on the adjacent buildings as you climb. 


Just when you start wondering how much further, the trail entrance comes into view. There is a park next to the trail. Along the trail are stops with fitness equipment for people who want to do circuits. There are also areas with seating for the more sedately paced users. At the halfway point of the trail at Wanchai Gap is another park and playground area, as well as toilets. A bit further down is a tennis court. It's really a great amenity for all types of residents to use and it's such a shame about the dog poisoners.


The trail begins



I like that the trail offers the feeling of being up in the trees while winding among buildings and civilization. It's different feeling than a country park, where you are more immersed in the natural environment. It is around 3.25km to go from entrance to entrance, plus another 0.75km to follow Bowen Road to it's termination point.

The view looking at Wanchai 

Toward Causeway Bay

the Opus by Frank Gehry


The park within the trail


Wanchai Gap

A playground and tennis court appear in a surprising location


Lover's Rock is a place where women can pray for partnership or fertility. The steps leading up to the rock have several landings with offerings from believers, or at least hopers. At the top of the stairs where the rock is located, you can have nearly panoramic views of Hong Kong. I didn't take pictures because there was a woman who seemed to be seriously praying at the top and I didn't want to interrupt her. So go have a look for yourself. If you want the full on experience, wait for the scorchingly hot seventh day of the seventh moon of the Chinese calendar (in August) for the Maiden's Festival, when the shrine is most frequently visited.




One of the fitness exercise stops along the way

The trail winds in and out of neighborhoods

Wong Nai Chung gap in the distance



A peek at Happy Valley

The old boundary marker when Hong Kong was a smaller, contained city


Upper Happy Valley and near completion


The Eastern entrance to the trail