I had a long talk with my dad yesterday and we agreed that my New Zealand experience has been equivalent to the training needed to climb Mt. Everest. Room #4 is my base camp. It is where I get acclimatized to reach the peak both physically and mentally.
Dad loved to travel. He explored much of Central and South America but my favorite story is his trip to Cuba. Man, he loved it there. I imagine it has a lot do to with the fact that he looks like a young Castro. "You only live once", he says. God, I hope so...I'm exhausted.
I can't help but think that ole Frank has been having a similar talk to with his offspring. I've seen a mini-Frank in training the last couple of nights. I've named him Franklin. Frank is obviously showing Franklin the ropes of rodentdom. Franklin is a tini tiny little thing and hasn't quite grown into his whiskers. He's very nervous and he makes twice the noise as Frank and isn't half as successful in his ventures. Last night after I switched the light on, Franklin scampered away but not before tripping over my cellphone.
First thought...god, I've gotta get outta here. Second thought...I have to climb a fucking major mountain? If I'm not mistaken there are a few base camps on the trek up ole Everest. I'm good at this first stop then I'm climbing my ass down and booking a luxury beach vacation.
