Honey, I'm home!

I'm back. And is the wont of so many of us who run to close or far flung spaces during
this oh so quiet business time of year, I came home to a storm perhaps brewing. How does one know? We watch the weather via ever so sophisticated devices we find through our computers; we plan we laugh we stress and in the end, Mother does as she will and humans hope only to be ready enough.

For most storms good prep is huge and of value without true tracking ablity. Good prep means that one knows, regardless of intensity, we have done the very best we can and we shall withstand or...we won't. In the islands, there are no evacuation routes to follow, so in ways I think we who want to be ready, are even more ready. For there is no place else to go, and that, at the end of the day, is that. We'll sleep or judder our teeth or drink to not thinking while a storm passes and (because weirdly it seems so often to be in the darkness) in the light of day assess our good fortune or our bad.

So it goes. When, once upon a time in my life, I lived on boats and made a living taking them from one place to another, I used to have a sort of daily mantra (no no, not in front of a shrine, unless you consider a coffee cup a shrine) that went easily so: "If I am destined to die at sea, so be it. My family knows I'm really happy with this life. However! I really do NOT want the reason to be because I did something absolutely STUPID that someone might survive and say, oh good lord, that didn't need to happen!" And so it is with hurricane preps. Overdo! Spread the word, not with alarm, but with first day of school readiness. Do you want to be the child that didn't bring his pencil?? I refuse to be that one. That means I can play during recess!!

Be ready. Play well. Like so.

Here are a few photos of my joy time away.

Paul and his donkey Lagerhead
(truthfully, Lagerhead was probably the biggest entertainment around while I was on Jost...
and we all admit it...he's a great ass)

This is a tree in flower I found in White Bay at Ivan's. Ivan was busy so I couldn't ask him what this was....if you know, let me know! It's flipping beautiful!

Here is my heart. This is what Jost - and circuitously all island life - means to me...
if you know me or if you don't, here's a little news - I'm not, ever so sadly, cool party girl (and sorry if need be, but I never was) but I do like a good fishing morning round up.
We were fortunate enough to get some of Adam's catch
and with Chuck on the grill that night, we feasted.
Fish in the sea, fish on the table. That fresh. That good.

This is a close up of what I spent a fair amount of time gazing at while I was gone. Very taxing. Obviously, I survived.

This is the second story view from where I stayed. A soursop tree grew
at the edge of the railing. This one is a baby, still in the heart glory stage.

And it is all true!

There is more. Much much more. But it is time to sleep, so wait with me. Good night! Buenos noches.