How can you not start the day laughing when the first news article read is this one? Ok, it's not really funny, it's pretty sad and pathetic, as is the whole mess the country and the world is in, but I think, if we don't choose laughter on occasion, the alternative could make us a wee bit wobbly around the edges. More than I want to be anyway.
Right now, though there are tourist/visitors here, it is pretty quiet for this time of year. I had a report from a friend who is almost as much of a cold water wussy as me that after the initial entry it's quite lovely right now. That's because even though the mornings may be a chilly 72, it's been sunny and warm early this year and today was calm. Which means certain sailors will be heading out during what looks to be a good weather window. Fair winds, amigos!
Bets came by and showed off more of her fancy footwear. She let me know there is more to come, so I will start numbering them. These brightened up my day considerably, but no doubt because it was Bets inside them. I worry a little bit that I am developing a foot fetish, as I see many, many feet in any given week/month/year and a LOT of various footwear. I've always liked shoes, but never really paid serious attention unless something was just amazing. Here, where our choices are Crocs, Reefs or flip flops from Superette Mayra, sitting at my cart is like the Daytona 500 of shoe parades...I get to see what the world is offering in casual footwear that I'd never see otherwise. And trust me, if you think people find it boring to tell me about their shoes, you would be wrong! Who knew? It's pretty fascinating...but I guess since we've only got two feet (if we're lucky) and they do quite a job for us over a lifetime, good shoes make life so much happier. Now that I think about it, my Daddy told me that when I was about 5 years old. Damn, every year I live, he gets smarter in my memories.
Chris Hatcher came by the cart with a piece he's been working on awhile, called Did Laura Bush Really Know? Most of the time I really like Chris' work, this one I loved. It's always weird and wonderful, full of symbolism and sometimes raunchy as hell. I asked if anyone had bought it yet and he said it wasn't going to be for sale. I told him he was nuts, that lots of people would love it, not be offended by it as he seemed to think (which is bizarre, because his work is often full of images that would offend just about anyone somewhere along the line and it doesn't occur to him). Anyway, I asked if I could take a picture of it, because I can't afford his work and I thought it would be nice to at least have this one for posterity. Hopefully you can get see it well enough. And yes, it's for sale.
After that, Mike came along in time to buy the Saturday chicken from Dinghy Dock that we are all addicted to now, picking up mine as well. After he got back he took a sidewalk seat and we were talking about the bail out (as in...analogy...Mike steals something from me and then comes to me to sell it to me and I say thank you) and the state of life at large. We are gorging on chicken at the time, he well into the all of it, me into about a fourth of it, happily sticky while we raged semi-quietly about the rulers of the world and how you can't buy much that is made in America anymore even if you want to, because most of everything is outsourced and when will Americans stand up and say, HEY!!!! But back to chicken...Ann came by with Karen; they'd picked up their chicken and Ann called out..."We got our Culebra purse!" This is what it looks like. But purse aside, I was still pretty gone off on the is anything made in America mode (beside our chicken?).
So later on when I was home I happened to be looking at this scrub brush I'd recently bought. I hadn't thought much at the time I bought it except, hey, it was the right size and the right price. But as I looked at it on the shelf, I noticed, glancingly, an American flag and thought, well hell! here is something still made in America. After finishing a couple of chores I looked at it a bit more closely. Oops! NOT! What a distressing bit of a label! What the hell is going on? Is anyone paying attention besides the millions of laid off workers who used to make this sort of thing? Does anyone in America know how to make anything anymore? Why are we putting up with this?
Ok. So.
Laurie came over to shoot pics of hummingbirds, with the rumor around the island that we were going to shoot hummingbirds (if it comes to that, I'd like a good recipe, please?). I watered the plants and put out the wine and nibble things. The hummers showed up, the pictures were shot. Wine was consumed and nibbles not nibbled by us were consumed by dock critters; lobsters, blue crabs and fish. Gotta keep my real pets happy so I can eat them come the day. It was time to head to town.
A man named Ed Whiteway lived life for a time here. He was a sailor among other things. I only met him briefly, right when I got here, but good friends of mine knew him long and well Here is an Ed story I liked and wish I'd been present for. A bunch of friends got together and painted his sails...I saw pictures of them tonight, beautiful palm trees, birds and water. And then, with an evil glint in her nameless eye, a painted palm print landed on his mast...until the mast was covered with palm prints...but there was still paint and still palms and a car that needed...a palm print. And then many. And that is only one story of a day with Ed. So Ed has moved to some other plane and tonight his friends here made a farewell party for him.
As so many of our farewell parties go, there was a lot of laughter, some tears and many a story told. Whether one knew him well or not didn't matter, because there was the recognition of a life lived, a person cared about and a fare well. What more can one ask for? Ann knew many stories, as she always does, and set up a tableau that made sense to her and may be appreciated by some who see this photo. I hope so! This is for Ann and Ed and the other guy with the chair.
And there, amidst all of our memory/farewell making, were these two women styling in hats. They let me take their pictures. How could I not??? It's sort of like... how could I refuse Celestial Chuck asking me to take his photo and make sure to include Venus and the moon? Ya gotta do what ya gotta do. It's a random act of Saturday.
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