Usually, "out of sight, out of mind" is a good thing. But, I'm in one of those moods where just the opposite is true. It's probably this dreary Baku weather that has put me in a reflective funk, but there have been a few people on my mind more than normal lately.
My youngest niece is dealing with complications from a broken ankle that won't heal properly and now she has the flu too. I wish I could give her a great big bear hug. Maybe we could curl up on the couch together and watch a movie. I'd bring her anything that she wanted. More blankets? Chocolate shake? I'd try to brighten her day.
My oldest niece is a rock star student in her last year of high school. She is such a smarty pants that she takes all advanced classes, even though she already has a full ride to college. School is really stressing her out, plus her part-time job often requires late hours. I wish I could tell her that it will get easier, but we all know that it only gets tougher. I'd love to kidnap her for a week and just let her sleep until noon everyday.
And then there's my friend in Houston who just moved into a new house with her 2 children, husband and 2 dogs. I really want to see her new digs. I wish it was circa 2009, when I could just stop by her house and waste away the afternoon, hanging out for a few hours. Or our Baku friend who just left the company to go work in Uganda. He was the life of the party and his stories made for great re-telling. I'm also really jealous of my friend in OKC who is training for a marathon. We used to be running buddies, but that is kind of difficult now.
So, these are the things that have been juggling around in my head. I hold them all close to my heart.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Parks & Rec
They just opened a new, quaint little park a couple of blocks from our apartment. We can see it from our balcony. Fountains, benches, statues, an ice skating rink, it's pretty swanky. It even has a playground - something I've only seen in one other park in Baku. It seems to me that traditional playground equipment is quite a novelty here. Jungle gyms, slides, teeter-totters, swings. They are all mysteriously missing from almost all of the parks. As one local explained it, "Our children do not play." Say what?!
Surely, the problem is that children are seldom given the chance to exhibit anything resembling play? I have noticed most of the parks display signs prohibiting anyone from walking on the grass (even though the parks are 80 percent green space). It's kind of strange to be outside on a nice day, walking along the boardwalk and not see a single person playing frisbee or tossing a ball back and forth. There are no couples spread out on a blanket in the grass, lounging in the sun, nor are there any toddlers walking barefoot in the soft green grass, old men flying kites or children playing freeze tag. The locals all seem to stick to the cobblestone sidewalks, walking with a general purpose, only pausing long enough on a park bench to tie a shoe or gawk at foreigners with dogs.
Maybe that's just city life. I grew up in the suburbs, and my mom's mantra was, "Go play!" which meant, get outside, do something fun and act like a kid. I wonder what Azeri moms tell their children to get them out of the house?
Surely, the problem is that children are seldom given the chance to exhibit anything resembling play? I have noticed most of the parks display signs prohibiting anyone from walking on the grass (even though the parks are 80 percent green space). It's kind of strange to be outside on a nice day, walking along the boardwalk and not see a single person playing frisbee or tossing a ball back and forth. There are no couples spread out on a blanket in the grass, lounging in the sun, nor are there any toddlers walking barefoot in the soft green grass, old men flying kites or children playing freeze tag. The locals all seem to stick to the cobblestone sidewalks, walking with a general purpose, only pausing long enough on a park bench to tie a shoe or gawk at foreigners with dogs.
Maybe that's just city life. I grew up in the suburbs, and my mom's mantra was, "Go play!" which meant, get outside, do something fun and act like a kid. I wonder what Azeri moms tell their children to get them out of the house?
Monday, January 24, 2011
Who Knew?
Who knew?
That when you enter a grocery store or a tech store that is a part of a larger mall, that you should put all of your belongings (purse, other shopping bags) in little lockers near the front door? I was yelled at by security the first time I encountered this scenario in Kazakhstan.
Who knew?
That upon entering anyone's house or apartment, that you should immediately take off your shoes? It is extremely rude and absolutely non-negotiable to walk beyond the foyer in anything other than bare feet, socks or house shoes. I actually appreciate this custom, as Baku is quite a dirty city and this helps to keep the "party gravy" from spreading beyond the threshold.
Who knew?
That gyms have their own etiquette? When considering a gym, you might want to take a tour beforehand. You should expect to put on little disposable booties over your shoes (think haz-mat booties). Once you are a member of said gym, you should arrive in one pair of shoes and work out in another "clean" pair of shoes. Now understanding this custom, I actually have a pair of Nikes that have never touched the pavement. They are strictly inside shoes. Also, gym goers should not leave the facility in their sweaty clothes. You should always have a change of clothes to depart in.
Who knew?
That in a country where some women must cover their heads, that it is unseemly for a woman to wear a ball cap? This winter, I have been thankful that stocking caps are acceptable.
Who knew?
That when greeting a local, you should shake hands, even if you have already seen that person once that day. Or twice. You just keep shaking hands, like it's the first time you've ever met.
That when you enter a grocery store or a tech store that is a part of a larger mall, that you should put all of your belongings (purse, other shopping bags) in little lockers near the front door? I was yelled at by security the first time I encountered this scenario in Kazakhstan.
Who knew?
That upon entering anyone's house or apartment, that you should immediately take off your shoes? It is extremely rude and absolutely non-negotiable to walk beyond the foyer in anything other than bare feet, socks or house shoes. I actually appreciate this custom, as Baku is quite a dirty city and this helps to keep the "party gravy" from spreading beyond the threshold.
Who knew?
That gyms have their own etiquette? When considering a gym, you might want to take a tour beforehand. You should expect to put on little disposable booties over your shoes (think haz-mat booties). Once you are a member of said gym, you should arrive in one pair of shoes and work out in another "clean" pair of shoes. Now understanding this custom, I actually have a pair of Nikes that have never touched the pavement. They are strictly inside shoes. Also, gym goers should not leave the facility in their sweaty clothes. You should always have a change of clothes to depart in.
Who knew?
That in a country where some women must cover their heads, that it is unseemly for a woman to wear a ball cap? This winter, I have been thankful that stocking caps are acceptable.
Who knew?
That when greeting a local, you should shake hands, even if you have already seen that person once that day. Or twice. You just keep shaking hands, like it's the first time you've ever met.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Ocean Front Property
Just like the George Straight lyrics, "I've got some ocean front property...." and well, we do, but it's a farce, just like the song. Our apartment is on the 15th floor of a new, trendy building, situated right on the very busy (and very loud) Port of Baku. From our balcony, we overlook the Caspian Sea, a polluted, oily body of water. There are no waves to be had, but the water glistens in the smoggy sunlight.
If I concentrate hard enough, I can imagine a humongous bulldozer rolling in, scraping up all of the shanties that line the water, replacing them with white sand and some palm trees and then, it would almost be like Miami....almost. Really, they could have such a nice thing going here, it's just needs a little TLC.
When we lived in the USA, we always talked about how wonderful it would be to live near the water. Imagine the view! So relaxing! Smell of the salt water! Seems that I need to be more careful with what I wish for because not all water is created equally.
(Mr. Straight said it best, "From our front porch, you can see the sea.")
If I concentrate hard enough, I can imagine a humongous bulldozer rolling in, scraping up all of the shanties that line the water, replacing them with white sand and some palm trees and then, it would almost be like Miami....almost. Really, they could have such a nice thing going here, it's just needs a little TLC.
When we lived in the USA, we always talked about how wonderful it would be to live near the water. Imagine the view! So relaxing! Smell of the salt water! Seems that I need to be more careful with what I wish for because not all water is created equally.
(Mr. Straight said it best, "From our front porch, you can see the sea.")
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
The Evil Eye
It's kind of like a game of "Where's Waldo?". They are everywhere, you just have to look closely. I'm talking about the evil eye - a talisman of sorts that is in the shape of an actual eye or a perfect circle. It features no lashes, just the black pupil outlined with light blue, then white, then a darker blue. Maybe you've even seen them before, but I had never noticed one until we vacationed in Greece. The evil eye was used as a small, simple decoration at restaurants, shops and at our hotel. I think it's probably similar to having a horseshoe hanging above your door in the USA. Kyle even bought me an ultra-chic evil eye charm for a silver necklace.
After Greece, I started seeing them every time I blinked - in Istanbul, Dubai, Egypt and back in Baku as well. Drivers hang them from the rearview mirror. Sailors put them on boats. Jewelry shops have them on anklets, bracelets and earrings. The security guard hut has one. The school down the block has one in a window. The eyes are always staring!
(example of an evil eye medallion)
According to my brief research, the concept of the evil eye started in the Mediterranean, but has spread throughout much of the world. Until now, I had only heard of "giving someone the evil eye," which isn't too far off base. The superstition says that some people (particularly people with blue or green eyes) are able to enviously look at someone and bring bad luck, illness, harm or death. The idea is that by displaying an evil eye charm, the jealous look will be reflected back, thus, providing protection.
I just finished reading the non-fiction book "Married to a Bedouin" by Marguerite van Geldermalsen, a New Zealand woman, who in 1978 was backpacking across the Middle East when she met, fell in love, married and lived with a Jordanian Bedouin. In her account, she says that newborn babies were shielded from view as to not draw envious stares. Children were purposely allowed to be unkempt so that their beauty would not shine through and the evil eye gaze would not be given.
It all sounds a little heavy on the folklore to me, but it is fun to spot the evil eye wherever we go, because it will definitely be there. And, I really like my necklace from Greece.
(Brooke wearing Evil Eye necklace)
After Greece, I started seeing them every time I blinked - in Istanbul, Dubai, Egypt and back in Baku as well. Drivers hang them from the rearview mirror. Sailors put them on boats. Jewelry shops have them on anklets, bracelets and earrings. The security guard hut has one. The school down the block has one in a window. The eyes are always staring!
(example of an evil eye medallion)
According to my brief research, the concept of the evil eye started in the Mediterranean, but has spread throughout much of the world. Until now, I had only heard of "giving someone the evil eye," which isn't too far off base. The superstition says that some people (particularly people with blue or green eyes) are able to enviously look at someone and bring bad luck, illness, harm or death. The idea is that by displaying an evil eye charm, the jealous look will be reflected back, thus, providing protection.
I just finished reading the non-fiction book "Married to a Bedouin" by Marguerite van Geldermalsen, a New Zealand woman, who in 1978 was backpacking across the Middle East when she met, fell in love, married and lived with a Jordanian Bedouin. In her account, she says that newborn babies were shielded from view as to not draw envious stares. Children were purposely allowed to be unkempt so that their beauty would not shine through and the evil eye gaze would not be given.
It all sounds a little heavy on the folklore to me, but it is fun to spot the evil eye wherever we go, because it will definitely be there. And, I really like my necklace from Greece.
(Brooke wearing Evil Eye necklace)
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Just Like Rocky
Hoping to mix up my workout routine, I hired this little old man to kick my butt. Let me explain....before the holidays, I had seen Farhad at my gym giving boxing lessons to a couple of rather large men. Looked like fun to me, so I signed up for private lessons twice a week for an hour each. "He's the best boxing coach in all of Azerbaijan," is what the front desk told me. Well, I didn't need that, but heck, let's do this.
The first lesson was a little surreal as Farhad speaks no English, and well, we all know about my Russian language skills. Farhad is almost a foot shorter than me, skin like leather, gold teeth, no hair and quick as a fox. He could pretty much pick any fight he wanted and win.
I was eager to impress, and I was hoping that I had earned brownie points by showing up with my own boxing gloves and wraps. I am positive that my cardio kickbox certification came in handy too. But this was a whole different animal. No wimping out and acting like a girl. No caring about what my hair looked like or if I was sweating all over the place. No excuses, because Farhad couldn't understand what I was saying and he didn't look like a guy who wanted to hear them anyway.
Farhad started me on a light warm-up: 2 laps around the gym, 1 minute of jump rope and then basic punches with 5 pound weights. From there, we quickly escalated into jab, cross, hook, upper on the focus mitts and worked on my technique. Farhad would yell at me in Russian and mimic what he wanted me to do. I think I got the gist of it: my stance was too wide (that's for kickboxing), keep my guard up, rotate all of the way through my hips, punch harder, etc. I'm certain my everlasting smile annoyed him. I was having so much fun and I did feel a little like Rocky, but it's hard to look tough when your gums are showing. In between thoughts of, "how many calories am I burning?" I tried to stay focused as to not get popped by his mitts when I was supposed to be ducking. I considered it a success that it only happened once.
It was even a bigger success when Farhad told me "harisho" at the end of the hour. "You did good." I was proud and already looking forward to the next lesson....as soon as the soreness wore off.
The first lesson was a little surreal as Farhad speaks no English, and well, we all know about my Russian language skills. Farhad is almost a foot shorter than me, skin like leather, gold teeth, no hair and quick as a fox. He could pretty much pick any fight he wanted and win.
I was eager to impress, and I was hoping that I had earned brownie points by showing up with my own boxing gloves and wraps. I am positive that my cardio kickbox certification came in handy too. But this was a whole different animal. No wimping out and acting like a girl. No caring about what my hair looked like or if I was sweating all over the place. No excuses, because Farhad couldn't understand what I was saying and he didn't look like a guy who wanted to hear them anyway.
Farhad started me on a light warm-up: 2 laps around the gym, 1 minute of jump rope and then basic punches with 5 pound weights. From there, we quickly escalated into jab, cross, hook, upper on the focus mitts and worked on my technique. Farhad would yell at me in Russian and mimic what he wanted me to do. I think I got the gist of it: my stance was too wide (that's for kickboxing), keep my guard up, rotate all of the way through my hips, punch harder, etc. I'm certain my everlasting smile annoyed him. I was having so much fun and I did feel a little like Rocky, but it's hard to look tough when your gums are showing. In between thoughts of, "how many calories am I burning?" I tried to stay focused as to not get popped by his mitts when I was supposed to be ducking. I considered it a success that it only happened once.
It was even a bigger success when Farhad told me "harisho" at the end of the hour. "You did good." I was proud and already looking forward to the next lesson....as soon as the soreness wore off.
Monday, January 10, 2011
PB
My drug of choice is peanut butter. I swear, I get a little rush from the good stuff - all natural cinnamon raisin swirl from the Peanut Butter & Co. in NYC. You've heard me rant before about how rare and expensive peanut butter is in Baku. It's just not something the locals eat. Maybe it's hard to grow peanuts here or maybe the Azeri moms have not yet learned how easy it is to slap together a pb & j sandwich. On a good day at the biggest, most Western grocery store in town, I might be lucky to spot a generic brand for about $7 or a high roller might opt for $10 Skippy. No thank you! I've learned to use my stash sparingly. You know, for a rainy day, when I get the shakes and have to have it.
I was able to smuggle 2 jars from the USA in my suitcase from this last trip home, which should tide me over for exactly 3 weeks. My back-up plan is this homemade pb from the Baku girls' home. All proceeds from the sale of each jar go back to the girls. It comes in two options: sugar-free and with sugar. I like both equally well. It's still relatively expensive, but I don't mind being taken advantage of this time. They know they have a captive market - Americans with a soft heart needing their fix.
When I'm ready to make a deal, I just call up this lady who meets me under a shade tree at the north end of town. She produces the goods and I stealthily pay her. I head home, eager to pop the top and spoon out my hit.
I was able to smuggle 2 jars from the USA in my suitcase from this last trip home, which should tide me over for exactly 3 weeks. My back-up plan is this homemade pb from the Baku girls' home. All proceeds from the sale of each jar go back to the girls. It comes in two options: sugar-free and with sugar. I like both equally well. It's still relatively expensive, but I don't mind being taken advantage of this time. They know they have a captive market - Americans with a soft heart needing their fix.
When I'm ready to make a deal, I just call up this lady who meets me under a shade tree at the north end of town. She produces the goods and I stealthily pay her. I head home, eager to pop the top and spoon out my hit.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Hello!
In Kazakhstan, people greeted each other with a hand shake and the Russian "zdrasvuyte" or simply "hello." Azerbaijan is a little more complex in it's hospitality. Most people will use the Arabic, "Salam Alaykum" or for short, just "Salam," which translates as "peace be with you." I have a very real fear of accidentally saying "Shalom," which is the Hebrew equivalent, but obviously not appreciated here.
When greeting the same sex, men and women will kiss on the cheek at least 2 times. And it gets interesting when men greet each other. There are usually enthusiastic handshakes, hugs and back pats, and 3 kisses are expected. Men are very touchy-feeling with each other and these displays of affection make most Westerners uncomfortable.
It is probably a good time to point out that Azeri men NEVER wear shorts, even in 90 degree heat. It is unseemly and is considered homosexual. Most Western males have decided to ignore this social taboo and sport shorts freely in warm weather. Of course, the ongoing debate is why it's okay for men to kiss but not to wear shorts. Alas, the reasoning is lost on me.
When greeting the same sex, men and women will kiss on the cheek at least 2 times. And it gets interesting when men greet each other. There are usually enthusiastic handshakes, hugs and back pats, and 3 kisses are expected. Men are very touchy-feeling with each other and these displays of affection make most Westerners uncomfortable.
It is probably a good time to point out that Azeri men NEVER wear shorts, even in 90 degree heat. It is unseemly and is considered homosexual. Most Western males have decided to ignore this social taboo and sport shorts freely in warm weather. Of course, the ongoing debate is why it's okay for men to kiss but not to wear shorts. Alas, the reasoning is lost on me.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
International Airport
Flights to Azerbaijan's capital city are serviced by Heydar Aliyev International Airport. As with many things in Baku, there are several frustrating aspects to flying with Azeris.
Upon landing, our fellow passengers often break into applause, which is always unsettling, because I don't clap for the taxi driver who gets me home safely. Should we clap for the pilot who did his job and landed without crashing? Then, as soon as all of the wheels are on the runway, people start unbuckling their seatbelts and standing up to get their plethora of duty-free bags from the overhead compartment, which only forces the "keep your seatbelt fastened until the airplane has completed taxing" announcement. It's to no avail, as they then rush to the front of the plane to be the first ones off. The joke is usually on them however, since we must all exit down a steep and unsteady stairway to pack onto a waiting bus to transport us the 200 yards to the terminal. At which time, everyone beelines to the ONE door into the terminal. Like cows narrowing into the shoot, people are pushing and elbowing the whole way.
Once inside the terminal, you must wait in line for passport/visa check, prompting people to cut and re-cut each other in the lines. This is the point when my blood pressure is at its highest. Type A people should be advised that waiting in line and being cut in said line is a health hazard.
Baggage claim is at the only carousel in the airport and takes an absurd amount of time. And once you have all of your belongings, a random airport employee will invariably ask to see your baggage receipts, which of course, are always shoved down into some obscure pocket. Once the tags are found, the employee will add the tags to his large stack and never even give a courtesy glance to make sure that the tags match up.
And finally, all luggage passes through an x-ray machine to clear customs, even though no one is actually monitoring the screen. We have been pleasantly surprised our past 2 times entering Baku, as the official has asked us which country we are coming from and when we have replied the USA, we have been allowed to walk right through. I think it's the only time being an American has paid off here.
Upon landing, our fellow passengers often break into applause, which is always unsettling, because I don't clap for the taxi driver who gets me home safely. Should we clap for the pilot who did his job and landed without crashing? Then, as soon as all of the wheels are on the runway, people start unbuckling their seatbelts and standing up to get their plethora of duty-free bags from the overhead compartment, which only forces the "keep your seatbelt fastened until the airplane has completed taxing" announcement. It's to no avail, as they then rush to the front of the plane to be the first ones off. The joke is usually on them however, since we must all exit down a steep and unsteady stairway to pack onto a waiting bus to transport us the 200 yards to the terminal. At which time, everyone beelines to the ONE door into the terminal. Like cows narrowing into the shoot, people are pushing and elbowing the whole way.
Once inside the terminal, you must wait in line for passport/visa check, prompting people to cut and re-cut each other in the lines. This is the point when my blood pressure is at its highest. Type A people should be advised that waiting in line and being cut in said line is a health hazard.
Baggage claim is at the only carousel in the airport and takes an absurd amount of time. And once you have all of your belongings, a random airport employee will invariably ask to see your baggage receipts, which of course, are always shoved down into some obscure pocket. Once the tags are found, the employee will add the tags to his large stack and never even give a courtesy glance to make sure that the tags match up.
And finally, all luggage passes through an x-ray machine to clear customs, even though no one is actually monitoring the screen. We have been pleasantly surprised our past 2 times entering Baku, as the official has asked us which country we are coming from and when we have replied the USA, we have been allowed to walk right through. I think it's the only time being an American has paid off here.
Appliances
A very dear friend suggested that I write in this blog more often. She encouraged me to tell about the little things that make up life here in Baku, Azerbaijan. I trust her opinion more than just about anyone else, so, here goes. I'll start with the appliances in our apartment.
Both the dishwasher and refrigerator are brand new, stainless steel, top grade quality (for Baku). Both are slightly miniaturized version of what you might find elsewhere and are of the Turkish brand "Arcelik". I'm not making that up. It says so right there on the refrigerator door. The convenience of ice and water in the door are not an option on this model. But, it's all for the better as you cannot drink the water here anyways. Like deja vu from my childhood, we are always dumping and refilling the ice trays.
The dishwasher has a digital display on the front. I suppose it is so that you know when it is running and which cycle it is on. All I know is that when it says "Yikiyor" in Turkish, do not open the door, or you will have to start a new cycle.
I've mentioned before the combo washer/dryer. It is conveniently located right underneath the kitchen cabinet, next to our Turkish speaking dishwasher. The dial is thankfully in English but that's about where my gratitude stops. It is so small that only 2 bath towels can fit in at a time and I rarely dry anything other than underwear and socks, as it just takes too long. Plus, I feel that the lack of running the dryer makes up for the hundreds of water bottles that I use and am not able to recycle.
And although they are not necessarily appliances, I should mention that we have bidets in each of the 3 bathrooms. Even after much discussion with our European friends, we are still not sure on the proper way to use them. But, they come in real handy for dog bathing time. I just stretch the hose over to the tub. Nice.
Both the dishwasher and refrigerator are brand new, stainless steel, top grade quality (for Baku). Both are slightly miniaturized version of what you might find elsewhere and are of the Turkish brand "Arcelik". I'm not making that up. It says so right there on the refrigerator door. The convenience of ice and water in the door are not an option on this model. But, it's all for the better as you cannot drink the water here anyways. Like deja vu from my childhood, we are always dumping and refilling the ice trays.
The dishwasher has a digital display on the front. I suppose it is so that you know when it is running and which cycle it is on. All I know is that when it says "Yikiyor" in Turkish, do not open the door, or you will have to start a new cycle.
I've mentioned before the combo washer/dryer. It is conveniently located right underneath the kitchen cabinet, next to our Turkish speaking dishwasher. The dial is thankfully in English but that's about where my gratitude stops. It is so small that only 2 bath towels can fit in at a time and I rarely dry anything other than underwear and socks, as it just takes too long. Plus, I feel that the lack of running the dryer makes up for the hundreds of water bottles that I use and am not able to recycle.
And although they are not necessarily appliances, I should mention that we have bidets in each of the 3 bathrooms. Even after much discussion with our European friends, we are still not sure on the proper way to use them. But, they come in real handy for dog bathing time. I just stretch the hose over to the tub. Nice.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Back to Baku
The jet stream takes pity on ex-pats by giving us a 27 hour travel time back to Baku (as opposed to the 31 hours to get to the USA). As our airplane ascended out of Chicago and Sugarland's/Bon Jovi's "Who Says You Can't Go Home" coincidentally played on my ipod, tears began to fill my eyes, and yet I was still thankful for the cosmos's little peace offering of shortening the trip by 4 hours. I'll take whatever help I can get.
It was a excellent Christmas and New Year's by any account, but prolong build-up and a desperate need for home just heightened everything. Panera Bread with my niece! Multiple visits to Sonic happy hour! Penn Square Mall Christmas shopping with my sister! Nancy's homemade breakfast! NYE with college friends! Everything was in overdrive and minus a few naps to get over jet lag, not a moment was wasted. Even being home for a month couldn't quell the sense of urgency. Like I had to juice every fantastic second out of everyone and everything.
And so it was wonderful. Every last ounce of home was just what I needed to refill my tank. I returned to Baku on "F" and each time I open a dresser drawer, the smell of my mother-in-law's softener comes wafting out and I'm heart sick for a second, but like a wave, it rolls out. And I'm left to reminisce.
(Kyle, Brooke & Pete on Christmas morning)
It was a excellent Christmas and New Year's by any account, but prolong build-up and a desperate need for home just heightened everything. Panera Bread with my niece! Multiple visits to Sonic happy hour! Penn Square Mall Christmas shopping with my sister! Nancy's homemade breakfast! NYE with college friends! Everything was in overdrive and minus a few naps to get over jet lag, not a moment was wasted. Even being home for a month couldn't quell the sense of urgency. Like I had to juice every fantastic second out of everyone and everything.
And so it was wonderful. Every last ounce of home was just what I needed to refill my tank. I returned to Baku on "F" and each time I open a dresser drawer, the smell of my mother-in-law's softener comes wafting out and I'm heart sick for a second, but like a wave, it rolls out. And I'm left to reminisce.
(Kyle, Brooke & Pete on Christmas morning)
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