Beloved Moon

All details to follow! For now must go back to the eclipse, the longest lunar eclipse this century and just four minutes shy of the longest possible. Wildly romantic - but no one here at the hotel is looking at it, so I am going table to table. (no joke).
Frederick is not amused.

Wrapping things up

Fly tomorrow to  Turkey - always sad to leave our little sports oasis, but if I am going to leave, then I am glad the next stop is Istanbul.

Rainer and Devon were here for a few days and R's comment after being fried on a tennis court for 90 minutes as we giggled at his form (that backhand!!), was that a Wehlen vacation always meant pain and should not be entered into lightly.

I am a bit worried about our stats on this trip. We were here for three weeks and never, not once, went to the beach with the intention of staying and hanging out. Sure, we would go atone for whatever sins Protestants seem to think they have committed, by jumping into icy water before breakfast. But that's not the point of a beach. I would see attractive- I mean really attractive Portuguese our age, hanging out there until 7:30 or 8 pm, flirting with each others' husbands and loving life. I know because we ran into them when we were going to dinner at the beach restaurants as they were sexily coming up from the same beach.

In our defense, we had to get to bed early enough to go play tennis and look at impact crater statistics.

Meteor Crater Analysis Update from Thomas:
"The problems with the Euler transformation have been solved. We used the wrong order of matrices at first, but we have it now. Still trying to figure out angle and speed of earth impact. "

I keep asking when I should duck- that's the only thing I want to know-  but they do not seem interested in answering. Reminds me of sailing as a kid with no wind, when the engine went out and a super tanker was within inches: "DO I JUMP OFF NOW POP!????"

Am close to podcast poisoning. The other day on the way to tennis, I made Frederick hold the phone and put the pod on speaker. He kept trying to tell me that this would do me no good. That we knew this already; that all this ranting was not useful. But then he heard something new and he was hooked.
 How many times a week does this come on?????!!!!

But because I am not craaaazy, I am balancing the ranting anti Trump ones with new age meditations. I listen to a Deepak and or Tolle or you name it, for each one. Trouble is, this is making me late for tennis. Thomas came rushing into the room yelling WE ARE LATE!!!! yesterday, as I was deep into Deepak "Oom Shanti Shanti"  And because I had obviously not absorbed any of the message of this whole earth-thing-is-an-illusion-blaring in my ear, I sat up straight: OH SHIT!!! I'll get the rackets, you get the low sugar Portuguese Gatorade !!!!!!!!!!!

What, disease we have exactly is not clear. Who gives a shit if the tennis teacher has to wait?

Love our teacher. His name is Roque and he is ours. We have known him for years, and he is the most beautiful player. Also he is very easy on the eyes, but he does not seem to know it.

It's an old friend's birthday today, and I love my friends' birthdays- (as you all painfully know).  It's so nice to have an official reason to stop and just eat some damn cake. Tell people you love them-

Then forget the rest.

So next stop Mediterranean. Thomas has his swim goggles packed; Frederick has his lap top charged; I have earphones cleaned.

Oh!!! i forgot to tell you, I SIGNED us up for the grand canyon 8 day camping trip in May  (!!!!!!!) At first I was euphoric. Me and Professor Knaut and a bunch of nerds from Germany looking at the rocks and stars. But now I am panicked. I saw a film of what it is like and it was like a Japanese reality show where people are doused in water until they give up. Then I read the most horrible words I have ever read: highly recommended that women wear bikinis - to make the trips to the "bathroom" easier. Except there is NO "bathroom".
Will anyone come with???? I'll throw in a trip to the Aman after...?

LOVE you guys. Today and everyday.

Pods Save America

No news really from over here. Lots of tennis and essay writing and world cup watching and meteor crater analyzing; a little golf and a few cold water swims. The weather is unseasonably cool- more wind than usual, so any extra time not bobbing in the frigid sea, I have filled with ranting left wing podcasts. Thomas says I am up to 8 espressos and four podcasts a day. He is more right than wrong on that.
This morning he walked into the kitchen where I was huddled over my fourth (fourth!) espresso having already gone through the New York Times, a Rachel Maddow show and a ranting email from Boo. I was so agitated over this business of handing over our former ambassador to Russia- that I had no choice but to go to net-a-porter and buy a pair of Gucci red shoes. I mean a girl wants to look good for her new Russian compatriots.
Thomas merely looked over my shoulder at the price and said: "Wow. What did he do now? "

He is a good man for not putting me directly into rehab (I hear they have a good one that combines addiction to caffeine and red leather). God help us. Please God heeeelllllp. And I don't just mean get rid of Trump. I mean please fix what he has he done to us. We are crazed- nervous and furious a lot of the time. Deaths from liver disease have risen dramatically in the US; I am not making this up. I myself am going through an extra large bar of Cadbury's nut and raisin every two days. The brightest spot in my day was the story about Mariachis trying to keep the president up all night. How was I not involved in that..?
Listened to a podcast where Father Rohr spoke to Oprah. (Oh how lovely he is!) He talks about radical grace and not hating people or you will end up becoming them. He says don't take yourself too seriously. I am sure he wants me to soften my heart towards all of the spineless Republican congressmen, and I absolutely will. A little later.

No but seriously, the only good news about Trump going so far off the rails is I actually had a little sympathy for him. It was a miracle. He looked so trapped and pink and pathetic. Whatever it is: a pee pee tape or an offer of help, or money for a Trump Tower Moscow, whatever it is, we will find out. Think about that. No matter what he does, someday we will see him fully exposed. Yes, he might stay in power for 30 years, and we may all need German passports; but eventually we will know he only made three dollars last year, or he likes prostitutes to sing him lullabies in his ex wife's native language. (Ok where did that come from??? lol. Dr. Freud; line one.)

Where was I? yes instead of drinking port wine and flirting with beautiful Portuguese men, I am four hour a day earphones in the ear listening to anything that talks about this mystery: how we got here, how bad it might be. I will listen to anything that will make me feel superior for knowing he was am impossibly damaged human being before other people did. SEE?? I TOLD YOU!!!

For a while we were ending the evenings watching an Israeli Netflix show called Fauda. God how I loved that show. The actor playing the main character is a real Arab Israeli former special forces guy who I was so in love with, I would miss him just a little bit during the day. Yes it was biased towards Israel, but it did show the brutality too, how many Palestinians innocents get killed.  Thomas finally put a stop to this podcasts-followed-by-beheadings-in-the-middle-east schedule, and has got us watching Planet Earth 2. You MUST watch!!! remember Planet Earth 1? those incredible pictures? Well this next one took 10 years and it is astounding-the perfect antidote to the news.

I am also re-reading the Seat of the Soul- 25th anniversary addition. It is written by a former navy seal who returned from Vietnam and sank into deep PTSD depression. He only came out of it when a friend introduced him to the idea of Quantum Physics; he got so interested that he began going over to Lawrence Livermore Lab to speak with the hippie physicists there. Zukov believes, as do I, that the greatest physicists of our time were also great mystics. From these interviews he wrote Dancing Wu Li masters- which won the national book award for science. I have bought it, but not read it yet- but I am of course intrigued by this duality of science and spirituality- the biggest questions asked by the smartest people, the beauty and mystery of mathematics, the twinkling of stars. Anyway his next book, The Seat of the Soul is a little out there, but I love it; and it helps. That and the pictures of the little snow leopard with her mother.

At dinner, Thomas tuned out for a minute while I was explaining what I had heard that day on Pod Save America- (fellow addicts: check out Marcy Wheeler's blog) and then he said: "Oh sorry, I was calculating how fast the moon goes around earth". I mean really. Is that not the best excuse for ignoring your wife ever? Swoon.
I asked what Frederick had come up with so far, and Thomas said with no sense of irony: "it seems Keppler's formula holds up." lol. I could have told them that was a pretty good bet and gone for a swim, but to each his own.

Meantime we try to focus on hitting the ball a little more in front of us;  to pick the best white peaches at the farmer's market in Loulé. We try to get the milk foamer to work better, because it makes milk warm but not foamy.

It is not lost on me that while his mother rants about psycho assholes who cannot tell the truth, and then buys red shoes that are probably made in sweat shops, Frederick is toiling away at his little spread sheet- counting the 8, 502 near earth objects that swirl dangerously close to our precious earth. He is asking big questions while I ask the tiniest; looking up while I look down at my amex.

I intend to stop and I definitely will.


Postscript:
In the final version of this entry you may have noticed that our president's name was changed to Trump. This was done by Frederick - a neat trick one can do on one's laptop where the man's name is automatically changed, in very article, every single time. It's not much, but it's something.
vive la resistance.

"One, remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Two, never give up work. Work gives you meaning and purpose and life is empty without it. Three, if you are lucky enough to find love, remember it is there and don't throw it away.  Stephen Hawking


OK Greetings from Quinta do Lago.... headquarters for bad tennis, world cup viewing,  space exploration and college essay writing. F is -how shall I put this? not that into the idea of writing 50 essays about himself. He has basically finished his main one, and I have to say I quite like it. "Space is no place to leave a friend" is about the downgrading of Pluto and why he cares. The first draft was a dry, point by point rendition of why the science was flawed. Total crap.
"Frederick" I said, "this is supposed to be about you; why does it matter to you." "You have to show a little leg; make us care. "
He wants to kill us.

But then we had a conversation about anthropomorphizing and the Pearls before Swine Comic strip and somehow it is lurching towards being finished.

The Caltech one is a dooozy. It basically asks you to talk about the science projects you have done in your basement since you were a tiny kid; the time you almost blew up the dorm experimenting with nitrogen; and your plan for stopping a near earth object hitting earth. In 500 words or less.
Don't make your reservations at Pie and Burger just yet Kathy!!

He did write a good one for Chicago (how I love them over there) where the prompt is simply "Where is Waldo?" and he compared Waldo to an electron and somehow weaved in Schrödinger's cat. I didn't understand it, but it was amusing.

Ok since this is a travel blog where were we? London was hot and really fun. K and P are in great shape- exciting things ahead for work, and they have a new apartment that looks amaaaaaazing.

Had dinner with Thomas' father's partner Patrick Q.- the closest person I know to the Auntie Mame character. He lives only four months in London now in a house that is so big it used to be a convent. The rest of the time he is in Africa, bouncing between Cape Town and two game reserves he owns. He tells stories in stream of consciousness form, picking up on one word, or a famous person mentioned at the table and running with it. "Richard Branson? good friend, terrible shot, can't hit the side of a barn, was just with him shooting rifles out of the sunroof in the Cotswold's. Almost got thrown in the clink.
David Frost? won't speak to me after that dinner party where we talked about culling animals. Lions? 85% of the time, if you fell out of the jeep , they would run. I have been charged thirty times but then they ran away.  Needed new underpants every time."

But the absolute best story was when he flew Emirates and the plane was stopped on the runaway for a burka clad, obese princess. She entered the plane surrounded by an army of Phillipine maids, while screaming into her cell phone,

Patrick told her to lower her voice, she was disturbing everyone.
She did.

Then, a few hours into the flight, a maid approached from the back of the plane with a bed pan, and- there is no easy way to say this, but you might want to forget about that beer you were opening. ..
put it under the royal burka...after which followed the sound of tinkling. The pan was taken to God knows where on the plane, and another maid approached with a towel for a royal wiping.
Patrick was in her row in first class...alas not far enough away to
miss getting the full picture. His friend was behind them laughing so hard he almost choked.
 "Bastard wouldn't switch seats with me".

No big breakthrough on the meteor project; we will let you know if we find a new planet.

                                                           
Announcement section! please see the trump baby blimp above. Some enterprising- fellow Trump haters have built a giant ballon that resembles Trump in diapers. It will fly over London during his visit. Please donate! They might have enough money to go on a world tour- following Trump where ever he goes.  Claus found it so funny he gave too- and he is not normally into idiotic things like I am. But we are all so inspired. I only hope the blimp can go right up to the window where DT is meeting- hard to keep spewing with that in one's line of vision.             

                   And, in coffee news- Thomas has bought a small espresso machine and placed it in an unused bathroom downstairs. I go there in the early morning and drink an unscheduled overly strong coffee while the Teutons sleep. Not a bad place for a coffee actually...I told the confused and wonderful couple that work here that it was my speakeasy. I don't know how to say that in Portuguese but I think they got the whole bathtub gin concept. They are fully supportive.