Thursday, April 16, 2009

Just another...oh never mind

There are no typical days on Culebra. Well, not for me, along with a few of my fellow Culebra life travelers. We are subject to the whims of fate and fancy and for the most part enjoy the ride. Except when we're bitching about the bumpy spots.

This morning is one where I get a ride to town with a friend headed in at the same time. I stood on what is the bottom of a hill, waiting for her Jeep to come along, and was transfixed by the sun on the water. The wind was up and the sun was glittering off every still and moving surface on water that was cobalt blue that early in the day. While I'm conscious of how fortunate I am, I don't always think in those terms, but this morning called for straight out almost on my knees gratitude for the beauty I am surrounded by. Yes, I know there are those who feel the same blood in the veins throbbing to the beat of taxis honking, sirens wailing, deli bells chiming that their turn is next, but just as they cannot imagine enjoying my life, I cannot imagine the din that only hiding in a closet might obliterate of theirs. Lucky for both of us!

While once again machines filled and tore and dug, the space around the cart was clear today. And it was really pretty quiet. Though business in the early part of the day made it seem a futile gesture to even be there, I was mentally rolling around in the relative peace, even as flying dust settled on my pores, my wares, my lungs. And then, along came a flurry of people who'd been returning again and again, hoping to find me open, and purchasing hot sauce and jewelry and art pieces, oh my! I tried to focus on being grateful rather than pissing and moaning about how much business I'd missed in the last three days, and focus won out, because really, balancing 'if's' against reality is an idiotic way to spend much time. And I can be idiotic quite pleasantly in so many other ways, thank you.

It was much like this afternoon in the yard. Following the flight of a gull and a frigate bird, suddenly it was a scene out of a tropical Hitchcock movie, with a cast of dozens. Frigates, gulls, pelicans called and swung circles, wheeling and diving, crying out for I have no idea what. Something got them here, something got them very excited. And then, with an unseen magician's wave of a cloak, they disappeared. Poof. Gone.

The CWIM had come down to see the show, closer to water than I've ever seen her. I think it was all about me being late with dinner, but I liked it. She seemed to find some small interest and then with a flick of her very alert tail and a high chinned look of disdain, she led me back to home and hearth and got her just dessert(s).

Thursday is dark now, heading to the end of a very long week in a very fast year. Wasn't it Christmas just a minute ago? Summer looms. I begin my hurricane food lazy purchases, a can of this, a bottle of that, an extra package of tortillas for the freezer. The mango trees I will raid are an inch away from ready. Shhhhhhhhhhh!

Onward...wing and a prayer and all of that.


  1. I have to ask you, please, give your cat a real name, its like saying "The thing no one wants" or "That stupid animal I wish would Dissapear" Call the Cat "Culebra" or SOMETHING for god sakes, its a living breathing being that you know you love and care for, show it the respect it deserves please, It sounds so terrible to me, to treat it as a castaway with no one who loves it enough to give it its own name! Every being deserves a name, at least when its gone it will there will be an epitath worth remembering, a name to be remembered by.Call me old, or sentimental, or nuts, but at least you would have to say JON is NUTS, and you may be right, But at least I'm a NUT with a NAME!

  2. I'm laughing so hard I'm crying. I'll see what I can do. Don't worry, she doesn't call me by a name either. At least I don't bite her head when I'm hungry no matter how many times she ignores me when I tell her not to bite the head that feeds her.

  3. Hey Jon is Nuts -- she DOES have a name....Cat Who Isn't Mine -- very old ancient name bring good luck to all.

    but it is good to be a nut with a name.....


  4. OK, before I realized that CWIM stood for Cat Who Isn't Mine, I thought MJ was just yelling CWIM, cuz she liked her cat (rhymes with Whim). So I say call her (him?) Cwim or Whim! teehee, methinks I've joined the Jon nut club.

  5. I like Whim....and if you are in Jonny's club, consider yourself fortunate!

  6. There's a guy who used to post on my social forum...a fireman...el bombero guapo. He always referred to his girlfriend as the GWIDTLM. Girl who is destined to leave me. And, of course, she did. Backing up a few years, there was always Mrs. Rumpole, aka She Who Must Be Obeyed, aka SWMBO. MJ is in good company with her transitive anagrams. Furthermore, there is a philosophical consistency to CWIM, when viewed in the sense that this creature at this point in space/time has chosen MJ. It's a richer bond when, to the cat, MJ is the HWIsM.

  7. Hwism? Thanks, I wondered what the hell she was saying.

  8. The things one does for one's brother... cheese and bread!