Neener's Travel Blog

One of our recent assignments was to write a short composition about dogs, so of course I had to write about one of the most important woofers in my life.  So, Kado, here's to you, you little sassypants. *photo credit to Travis T.  And also Kado, for being such a darn cute model.                 I lie down, but I am still wide awake.  I keep my eyes locked on the door and my head tilted, listening for any sound.  They’ve been gone for, I don’t know, at least twelve days if I had to take a guess.  I’ve been trapped here since they left, and I’m nearly out of food and water.  There’s no end in sight, and I’m beginning to lose hope.                 To pass the time I think back on the good ol’ days.  It seems like just yesterday we were passing the ball around, going for walks, cuddling on the couch, eating together, laughing t...

(Another marvel written for school.)                 The scratching of the pen contrasts with the smoothness of the ink gliding over the page.  The strokes, both dramatic and detailed, slowly grow fainter as the end of the line is reached.  The pen is dipped into the inkwell, renewing its supply for the next line.                 In their original context of the Victorian Era, being wielded by a dapper gentleman in a tailored suit to write letters of great import in a grand and tastefully decorated study, dip pens seem elegant and dignified.  Their continued use in this modern age, though, seems old fashioned and perhaps even a bit pretentious.  To me, however, dip pens represent so much more what a writing instrument is meant to be than a fountain pen or (the horror!) a ballpoint pen.  A writing instrument is the extension of the write...

(Just a fun little writing project from my class to keep you warm on this wintry day.) Winter can be a tough time for everyone.  Days are shorter and often darker, bringing about seasonal doldrums.  The annual battle against the elements is a struggle felt by everyone, whether working out in the blizzards, driving on the icy roads, or hauling a toboggan up the slippery hill.  When the frosty grasp of winter works its way past toques and scarves and settles into the bones, the cold can seem impossible to escape.   But fear not!  There is yet a beacon of light and warmth in the vast wintry plains, a small comfort, bringing hope to even the most frozen of winter sufferers.  It is hot chocolate!  That glorious miracle of a delicious hot beverage, come to restore feeling to the extremities and joy to the heart.   In the beginning days of hot chocolate, Mayans and Aztecs believed the drink to have medicinal properties, probably du...

My last writing assignment of last semester was to write a manifesto.  The topic could be as broad or specific as we wanted - topics chosen by my classmates ranged from general advice on how to live a good life to enjoying rain to internet trolling...quite the range of characters we have in that little class. Honestly, this assignment was giving me a lot of issues, and I still am not happy with the way it turned out.  There's maybe two lines in this whole composition that I'm mildly proud of.  However, the message behind it, I am entirely supportive of (obviously, or I wouldn't have made it into a manifesto).  So, here it is, my manifesto for adventure. Manifesto for Adventure                 Nowadays, people are focussed on all the wrong things: money, status, acquiring material possessions.  People are surviving and thriving, but no one is really LIVING .  As residents of t...

The last  assignment  in my writing course was a memoir/narrative.  I honestly had such a difficult time choosing an event in my life to write about.  There was so much to choose from, but at the same time I couldn't think of anything worth putting into a story that people would want to read.  So I picked the most recent, emotionally charged event in my life.  In September I went to Edmonton Expo with a few of my very best friends. And this is the tale of what happened (cut down to approximately 800 words...it started out at 1300, and that still didn't include all the details...).  (Shout out to Alex for his pro editing skills - you da bomb diggity.) Meeting Clara                 This was it - I was going down.  My body was swaying and my vision was going dark.  It had gotten to be too much and I was seriously going to pass out.      ...

This year I'm taking a course called WRITE 298: Creative Non-Fiction Writing.  It's my favourite course this semester because I essentially get to write blog posts for school and so all the assignments are FUN.  Yes, I am describing school work as fun.  That's how great it is. So, throughout the year (it's a full year course, wonderfully enough), I'll be sharing some of my writings.  Here's our first assignment: a description of place.  Despite the short time my DTS outreach group spent in Kolkata, that city still stands out vividly in my mind - perhaps more vividly than other place I've been.  So, even though I haven't been there in a year and a half, and have hardly any pictures to look back on, it was easy to remember and write about. The Fabric of India The first glimpses of the city are overwhelming, and I’d almost be glad for the barrier of the taxi window between me and this new place, if it wasn’t for the stuffiness of the incense-choked ...

Starting over can be messy.  That’s exactly how I would describe my 2015 so far – messy.  Already this year has held a massive amount of heartbreak and change for me.  As I look back on all that’s passed, that’s really the first thing to come to mind.  How messy.  I have really made a mess of things. Life doesn’t really seem to care how much I may have going in my life at once (and I will tell you right now, that I always have a lot going on – probably at least 1.5-2 times as much as is healthy for a normal person).  Life doesn’t care – in fact it seems to enjoy constantly throwing more and more things at me.  Very often those things come completely out of the blue.  Because being prepared for something would be cheating.  As life threw new things at me, decisions needed to be made.  And as more and more things were thrown, my decision making ability decreased.  Rapidly.  Until it seemed that nearly every decision I m...