Well, it’s almost overwhelming. I’ve always said to myself as a scientific-type, “Death is part of life”. And I guess that’s because when I was growing up, so many of my relatives would die. I went to a lot of wakes and funerals in RI.

They were my relatives and I’d miss them (some more than others), “but it’s just the process”, I’d say to myself. It’s been this way, and it will be this way. Death follows life. And then you can get into the metaphysical or not. The people who have had a physical presence with all their “stuff” around you, take it into some other realm.

At one time, I think I had a collage of photos on my fridge or somewhere, of deceased relatives and friends both two and four-legged. I called it “dead guy shots”. Bizarre, macabre, call it what you like. I’ve lost many people (and dogs and cats are people,too) close to me over the years, and after a while, you’d think it would get easier. But it doesn’t. We can pretend it does. But I still occasionally find myself weeping and feeling guilty about things I could have done better in my relationship with whomever (especially when it comes to four-legged family members).

In the past couple of weeks, we have lost yet more family members (of the two-legged variety). Terry Wright passed away two weeks ago from cancer. We met Terry when we moved here. He was the husband of Heidi Dickerson Wright, one of the sisters who founded the Pointe Dance Academy here on St. Croix. Every December, Terry would don top hat and tails to grace the stage with his rendition of Herr Drosselmyer (sp?) in the Nutcracker Suite Ballet. We missed him this past year, however, as he and Heidi were in England trying to get medical assistance from his home country where there is socialized medicine. But they decided, since his disease was so advanced, that he’d be better off coming home to St. Croix where he would live out his final days peacefully on this beautiful island surrounded by family rather than in an unfamiliar medical situation overseas. I believe his last words to Heidi were, “Get me my top hat and cane, Darling”, as he slipped off onto a new stage….

Nolan Joseph, well-known restauranteur (owner of Nolan’s Tavern) and brother of our neighbor, Roy Joseph (of Roy’s Catering) also passed this week. The Pickled Greek will open next week where Nolan’s Tavern last was, across from the Pearl B. Larsen School. Nolan was an avid supporter of Peter, the Greek in his work toward resurrecting this spot as a gathering place for locals and visitors alike.

Nolan was a fixture on a special barstool overseeing the continuing work. Peter had been hoping, throughout the process, that Nolan would be on hand (since he lived right next door) to prepared special requests for some of his special dishes. But Nolan has gone on to bigger things, with just days to go before the opening of the Pickled Greek. He will also be sorely missed.

I did not know these two, but one lost this week was a friend of my daughter’s. Another Terry she’d met through SOAR. This woman died in a house fire in FL. Her physical disabilities suffered in a domestic abuse situation may have prevented her escape from the flames that engulfed her home.

David Cover, a familiar St. Croix radio talk-show caller and community activist has gone on as well.

There are many others I am missing in this post. The hundreds of thousands in Myanmar and the tens of thousands in China who have perished recently. I’m not sure anymore if my “death is a part of life” rationalizations are nearly as comforting as they were when I was younger.

Maybe it’s the realization of my own mortality as I get to the age where my peers are starting to drop, or maybe it’s because I know that many of my older dogs will be dying in the near future. Although I try to prepare myself for losing them, I often hug them and sit with them, but stand up every time with tears in my eyes or a lump in my throat. It is hard to imagine life without them. That unconditional love.

And then there are the ones who leave unexpectedly, which is why I try to appreciate those around me as often as possible….

Since Michael and I got together as a couple, 4 years ago, I have been dreading the day his mother would ask us to go to a family reunion. He’s talked about others his family has had over the years and the concept just sort of makes me nauseous. When we got engaged, I just wanted to have a very quiet ceremony someplace special, but his mother insisted that we have a wedding and invite all the families. So we did. And it was fun, because we did it our way.

Well, now the family reunion thing has actually happened. Michael’s grandmother (his mother’s mother) will be turning 85 on June 27th (coincidentally, the first anniversary of the day we lost our baby). Strangely enough, we have already gotten 2 inquiries about massages for that week-end. So, not only will we be spending money to get there, we will be losing income which would have been guaranteed (because we would have required a deposit that far in advance).

I was so not thrilled about having to go back to America. My spare time is rare, and I would like to spend any vacation time doing things I want to do and not things I’m being forced to do. I moved far away from my family a long time ago, so I wouldn’t be forced to feel obligated to do things with people I have nothing in common with. I feel like a space alien when I’m around my family. But I guess I feel like that in groups of people in general. At least down here, most of the people have a love of this island and a commitment to make our community work better, in common.

Anyway, I have just always felt very different from most people. I guess in Jr. High and early High School, I tried to fit in, but after my Junior year, I stopped caring what those people, my peers and my family, thought of me. I was doing what I had to do. I had lots to do, and I wasn’t about to let them hold me back.

So here I am, 30 years later, going to a family reunion/85th birthday party.

Since Michael and I got together, I’ve been wanting to go to the Galapagos islands, New Zealand, Australia, South America, etc. Anywhere but the states. But at the end of June, we will be going to southern California. Well, if we have to go to the states, California is probably not the worst place to go (that would probably Jersey, or Pittsburgh or anywhere in Ohio). I told Michael that if we were going to CA, I’d like to at least visit wine country. So he researched and found that there are vineyards and wineries in southern CA, too. Cool!

We found a little B&B cottage in the Temecula/Falbrook area and made reservations for three nights. We will actually stay with Michael’s grandmother the first three nights, leaving on Monday, the 30th (my daughter’s birthday) to drive to a biodiesel production facility to do some research, before our 3 day “vacation” in wine country.

It’s sounding better to me now. There are hot air balloon companies that fly over the vineyards at sunrise. That is seriously my cup of tea. Then lots of wine-tasting, massages at our cottage, and maybe a trip to a beach on our way back to LAX on Thursday.

Nothing like those three things to make my bellyache go away!

Not the commodities trading type, but the squares where people meet and shop and go to a cafe. The large open urban areas surrounded by wonderful examples of medieval and renaissance architecture.

Our friend, Jenna, has been traveling through Europe from England to Jordan and has been writing and posting pictures of some of the stops in various cities. I was appalled to see one of the market square in Zagreb, with advertising plastered all over the historical structures. It makes me want to boycott any company who would defile such treasures.

When I was in High School, I toured parts of Europe as a summertime exchange student and remembered being in awe of the beauty of the squares that I saw. In hopes that the ones I had seen would not be tarnished as this one was, I did a google search of the Grand Places in Brussels and Bruges, Belgium. Much to my relief, I found them to be unadorned with capitalist propaganda.

I searched further and found a blog which showed photos of ten different European market squares. It appears that not all of them have fallen into the commercialism void.

Thank goodness!

Hilarious! Uproariously funny! Lots of belly laughs and guffaws as well as giggles and snickers!

We went on opening night and only a couple of times did the performers seem to be reaching for their lines.

The casting was perfect. The players truly seemed to matched their characters.

There were about 50 people in the audience, which is quite a decent showing for opening night during the beginning of our “slow” season. The audience was pretty responsive and appreciated most of the jokes and funny lines.

We also went on night two. We volunteered at the raffle table. There were fewer people, perhaps because of the big day-long “cancer sucks” fund raising bash at Cane Bay. But they seemed to thoroughly enjoy the show. There are still 5 performances left. This week-end, Friday and Saturday at 8pm and a Sunday matinée. And then Friday and Saturday nights of the week-end of the 23rd and 24th. If you are on island, don’t miss it!

It was actually a pretty perfect day. We got up and did yoga (we’ve FINALLY started back on that). I feel soooo much better after each moment of stretching all those muscle fibers. Had some organic decaf with local bananas from Southgate farms and I got a much needed massage from my wonderful husband.

Last Mother’s Day happened before I started blogging, but many of the main characters were the same. We had brunch last year at (Wreggie - cover your eyes) Duggan’s with Nikki, Meredith and Ian. Then dinner at the Terrace, just the three of us, since we were pregnant.

But this year was lighter…Michael and me, Nikki and Meredith for breakfast at the Cultured Pelican. It was nice. I love the Pelican, especially during the day. But we would have preferred another waitress. The one we had, used to clean houses, and at one point cleaned Michael’s Tide Village house for Charlie (my former house mate) when he first moved in. Michael met her at that time and tried to explain that many of his things weren’t out of there yet and that he would deal with them later. She became offended for some reason and wrote a note to Charlie (leaving it in plain sight of Michael), calling Michael an “ass”. So, we would have preferred another waitress, but we didn’t know she worked there. If we would have, I would have chosen another restaurant.

Anyway, the brunch food was okay. The company was great and we had lots of good, fun conversation. After- ward, we went our separate ways and I thought I might later meet up with Nikki on a beach, since it was Michael’s turn to work on getting the junker out of the driveway. I’d worked while he sailed on Saturday, and yes, the blue rover is still in the driveway, very much in the way and making our home look like a ghetto, a year after I gave him 4 months (or I tow the damned thing out of there myself).

Nik likes Ha’penny, and it’s an okay beach, but I wanted a beach where the snorkeling is good, and if I wanted a drink or a snack, there are amenities. Divi is pretty close, and I hadn’t been in a while.

I went to the eastern end, off the new building, close to the good snorkeling. There were plenty of empty chairs and tiki huts. I picked one, parked my stuff and settled in to get warm before diving into the sea. I was on an exploratory mission to see if I didn’t have to go all the way to the palm trees off Pat White’s house to see any nice patch reefs. But it looked a little funky (like too shallow with sea urchins or baby corals) right off shore and I walked to where I knew the entrance to be sandy. The water was warm when I got in but soon chilled to the point where I thought I’d see ice burgs. There was some sort of drain pipe pouring water in around there (maybe draining condensation from refrigeration or air conditioning units?) and that may have been the cause.

A small barracuda greeted me immediately upon my entering, and then there were lots of white fish digging for worms in the grass and sand. I swam through more grass toward the areas I thought were coral reefs. It was shallow and I finally got to some patch reefs that were not spectacular. I had been fighting the current (but I wasn’t unhappy, it was much-needed exercise) and at this point I just floated around all the hundreds of sea urchins from all angles. There were tons of juvenile fishes, lots of damsels (undistressed), and not much else. I headed back in letting the current carry me to the other side of the sea wall where it was sandy.

Back on shore, I positioned the chairs so I could get sun on appropriate places and have access to my book and fanny pack. I opened my book and read a few lines before falling comfortably asleep. When I awoke, I was totally in the shade. I read a bit more and headed home to find that Dave and Michelle were there. Dave was in the driveway helping Michael cut the frame apart and Michelle was happily situated at my computer.

Okay. I was forced to do things I would normally avoid using the computer as my excuse. I did laundry, vacuumed, washed windows, watered plants and took pictures of the last steps of the rover dismantling.

When darkness settled in, the boys were finished chopping and moving heavy things (for that day, anyway), and we had them clean up and get ready for dinner.

It was still Mother’s Day, so I was not about to cook for four, so I suggested Tutto Bene or Zebo’s. Through the democratic process, Zebo’s was selected. I called for reservations and they said, “Come on down!”

Dave and Michelle hadn’t been there before and were enthralled with the menu choices. Michelle wanted the beef carpaccio, and the scallops and the local sweet potato salad and the mussels and the duck napoleon, so we ordered all of those. I wanted to try the creamy ratatouille soup, so we got that and the Wahoo entrée. Everything was fabulous, especially with a bottle of Montes Alpha Shiraz. We shared all and had room for a couple of glasses of the opened bottle of Navarro Malbec and dessert of a rich chocolate cake with a richer ball of chocolate on top.

All in all, a pretty fabulous Mother’s Day, as far as I’m concerned.

We made phone calls early in the day to see about meeting with a government official regarding our new business venture. We got a letter back the other day from Delegate Donna Christian-Christensen’s office wishing us well and letting us know that we have their support.

We didn’t get through to the guy we wanted to meet with, but left messages with his assistant. Then we had to go out to Chenay to do a couples massage on the beach.

I’m quite miffed at the management there for cutting down two trees which provided lovely shade for the little playground and some hammocks on the beach. I guess they weren’t “Caribbean-touristy-looking” enough or something. One of the was a maho, and I think the other a man-jack. They were both beautiful lush native trees. The management could have put little signs with descriptions on them to further their guests’ education and appreciation of the natural beauty of this area. But they blew it. People are just so clueless sometimes. Exasperating!

Anyway, the people we massaged are traveling nurses finishing up their stint at our Juan F. Luis Hospital and they hadn’t yet been to Chenay, so they thought it might be nice to get massages on the beach, have lunch there, and enjoy an islandy day. They are nice folks and we wish them well in their travels. They go to Seattle after this!

We came home to drop massage tables off and headed out to Gallows Bay (bank, post office, hardware store, card shop), then to VI Cargo to pick up things we’d ordered from the states ( a pressure washer, other miscellaneous tools, and a horn for the pumpkin). While we were there, the government guy called and Michael got some necessary info. We really didn’t have to meet with him until we get a business plan done and some other stuff. Good! No trip to Frederiksted. We still needed to get to Cost-U-Less and the gas station (for diesel to blend with veg oil for the pumpkin). Then we’d have a minute to have a slice from Pizza Maré before going home to feed the dogs and get ready for our afternoon trip on the Roseway.

The Roseway heads back north next week and we wanted to get a sunset sail in before the left. It was a great trip except for the haze. The seas were calm enough that I could stand and walk, so I went to talk to a new crew member named Rachel, who just arrived Monday from New Zealand. Meredith was with us and she babysat Goliath while Michael and I wandered a little. Also on the boat, was Craig Alexander and his family from Australia. Craig won the St. Croix Half-Ironman Triathlon on Sunday for the fourth or fifth time, and has been chillin’ on the island before he has to go back to train and race some more.

It was lovely watching darkness settle over the island as the lights came on in clusters in town and along the shores, east past the Buccaneer and west to Judith’s Fancy. The two and a half hour sail took the edge off our frantic day. I always love to watch and hear the crew working together to bring the large schooner safely back to the dock. Maybe next year we’ll go with them to Bermuda when they leave in May for the trip back to the states.

As soon as we got off the Roseway, we had to dash out to Orange Grove for the opening performance of “Last of the Red Hot Lovers”. From the historical to the hysterical! What a hoot! And a fun ending to a crazy, “Terry tour” kind of day.

Well, it’s official. I heard it on the radio. The Sahara dust is here.

A caller to the morning talk show cautioned listeners not to breath too much because “agents have been released into the atmosphere which may cause mass paranoid schizophrenia”! I’m holding my breath. I don’t want to get THAT!

No, but seriously. It can be bad. There may be molecules of poisons used in the third world and bacteria from all sorts of dung which have been carried by the winds to our area. I’d better break out my burka, my hard hat and my gas mask.

Let me go do that now!

The first time I went to a CCT play, it was at the Sydney Lee Theater at Island Center for the Arts. I saw “South Pacific” and fell in love with that musical and our local theater company. I didn’t know, at that time, that calling for reservations was necessary because the theater was so small and the place was packed! I just barely got a place to sit. Many people had to stand.

I love the Sydney Lee theater (named after a former senator who was a great supporter of the arts and whose daughter is in the publishing industry), just as I love Island Center. When we first moved here and my daughter performed in “The Nutcracker Suite” ballet, I was in awe of being able to see a first-rate classical ballet shown in a large open-air theater. The tropical heat is tempered in December by the “Christmas winds” and the lack of humidity. It’s a beautiful place to watch a show. One of my favorite things about it is watching the bats swoop in and around the lights for treats of moths and other delicacies. Très islandy!

But alas, our community theater group has outgrown the Sydney Lee Theater and has moved to a more “industrial” type building. It fits more people (no need to call for reservations any more, but if it’s a popular show, you must get there early), and it is air-conditioned. I guess some people love that. I was not thrilled at first to have to leave the charming playhouse at Island Center, but I have almost gotten over my dismay since they continue to stage wonderfully entertaining shows. At least the bar area is still outside under the stars.

This season we have thoroughly enjoyed our CCT’s productions of “Chicago” (the play blows the movie out of the water), “Grace and Glorie”, a two-woman show which had us alternately in stitches and in tears. It was fabulous! A strange is that CCT decided last year to do this show and shortly before they had auditions, the author (or writer ?) moved to St. Croix. He found out about it and helped with all aspects of staging his play.

This week-end, Neil Simon’s “Last of the Red Hot Lovers” will open. It’s a four person show with the lovely and talented Nicole Gariepy (who was quoted in the St. Croix Avis this week regarding the triathlon’s effect on her business) in the role of “a flaunting sexpot with a fondness for cigarettes and whiskey”. Shouldn’t be too much of a stretch for her to play. Bruce Specter, who played “Mary Sunshine” in “Chicago” is Barney, the blundering adulterer. I crack up every time I think of Mary Sunshine kissing my daughter on stage.

I’m really excited about seeing this show. I’m sure the cast will do a great job. Stay tuned for the review…..

She’s finally made the move! It was really just a matter of time. She very much like her Daddy, you know, and life in Little Rock had started to get to her. Besides, now, there’s the family restaurant!

Peter’s daughter, Nikki flew in on Tuesday night for phase one of her move to St. Croix. She’s staying with Peter for the time being but will find her own place soon, we’re sure. The Pickled Greek will open for business in a few days. That will keep Peter, his nephew, Doug, and Doug’s wife, Lindy (and now, Nikki) busy for a while. Chef Aaron is still in NY getting treatment for Hodgkin’s lymphoma, and we wish him well with that. He’ll return after his treatments are finished to take charge in the kitchen once more.

Phase two of Nikki’s relocation will be moving her two dogs down. And then she’ll start living the “normal” life of a “normal” island girl.

Welcome home, Nik!!

A few weeks ago we went to one of the official events of the “St. Croix Food and Wine Experience“. (Well, we went to two, but I already wrote about the “Taste of S. Croix”). This was the Saturday evening event called “Wine in the Warehouse”. Tickets were supposedly limited, so I thought, “Great! It won’t be crowded like the ‘Taste of St. Croix’ itself. But it was crowded. There were about 11 skillion people there. The wines were good and the food was great. And I don’t know, maybe it’s my age, but I really have a hard time having fun when there are too many people around. The huge warehouse was packed! And it was cold in there. And, there were bright fluorescent lights on. But that’s not the scariest thing.

We saw a bunch of people we knew, and most of them said that they read our blog. It’s scary. People that I never imagined sitting in front a computer read our blog.

Another funny thing happened to me this morning. I was scheduled to massage a couple more triathletes at Coakley Bay Condos and I knew where the building was, but I couldn’t find the unit I was supposed to go to. Some people were coming out of another building and I asked them if they knew where this particular unit was. They replied that they did not. That they had only been there 4 days. Then the woman said, “Are you Terry?” I said, “Yes”, thinking that maybe one of the triathletes mentioned getting a massage from me or something. But she said, “Oh, I read your blog”!

This just cracks me up! It’s too bizarre!

But last night we were talking to someone we hadn’t seen in a long time and he said that he doesn’t read blogs. And I thought, “How refreshing”. Because I could tell him something without having to think that maybe he already knew it because he reads the blog! I can’t stop giggling about this strange phenomenon of blogging and reading blogs….Modern society is just too crazy.

It’s partially because I’ve been extremely busy with massaging triathletes (oh, woe is me…..sigh!) and I don’t have time to actually post something, and partially because this is hysterically funny to me…..(I promise I will post real things starting tomorrow)….but for now…..Got this e-mail today about a bad day at Hallmark. Enjoy!

I was talking to someone the other day who mentioned that someone mentioned our blog to her. And it was in a “not very nice” sort of way. She said it was because I posted a “not very favorable” review of a certain restaurant. Funny! But the funniest thing is that the next time we went to this restaurant we were treated “like royalty”, and I wrote about that in my next review.

The person who told me about the “complainer” thought that maybe we were “treated like royalty” because of the blog. So I say to that, “Way cool, but why wouldn’t they treat everyone nice the first time and not need to be ’spurred on’ by the fact that I might write a ‘not very favorable’ review?” Why not strive for excellence in your chosen occupation, whatever it is and with whomever you’re dealing? I think I do. Well, okay, sometimes I’m not as patient as I should be with some people who call or e-mail with schtupid questions, but I would really like to have the patience of Michael. They still get a really good massage and I haven’t yet begun to charge a “stupidity fee”. So see, I’m striving.

I think it was Wreggie, a while back, who asked if our blog brought us any more business. Good question! But I think it hasn’t, and in fact, it may have had the opposite effect. People make assumptions about us after reading things we’ve written, and if they disagree with us, we probably won’t ever see their business. For example, read the comments on Michael’s post Rejected Again. There are people who despise us because our opinions differ from theirs. But we do try to make coherent sense and base our arguments on honest research. Maybe they’re just jealous because they can’t do that.

Someone told me recently that she feels like she knows me really well because she reads our blog all the time. Very interesting! Maybe it’s easier to get a massage from someone you don’t know very well if you’re not a regular client of theirs, because you don’t know about their personal faults. Especially if you don’t live here. When I massage a visitor, most of the time I will be asked lots of questions about what it’s like to live on an island. People who have read the blog already know much of my side of it.

We have met fun new people in the last few weeks who found us through our blog, and it’s okay that they didn’t get massages from us. It was fun just meeting them and hanging out and showing them some of the things we love about living here.

I guess when I first started blogging, I thought I’d write about only the good stuff to make St. Croix sound oh-so-perfect, but that’s what people read in tourism ads. No place is perfect, and people need to know that. I’m not perfect, I have some dumb ideas and opinions, but I’m a damned good massage therapist…. and I don’t do the “hard sell” thing, either.

Who likes telemarketers? Raise your hands out there all you lovers of people who try to sell you things you don’t need or want. Things that you have done fine without for all of your life until right now.

How about those timeshare salespeople? When I see them coming, I want to run away. Fast. Okay, so timeshares work great for a lot of people, and I may even consider one someday, but the hard sell thing drives me crazy.

There is a person I’ve known who comes to St. Croix a few times a year and has been running a business here for a number of years. We’ve had a comfortable mutually beneficial business relationship for a long time. Now she has started an internet advertising business and wants me to give her money for doing something she’s been doing for years….getting me a little business.

At first, I was pretty disappointed because we’ve had a nice easy relationship going on, but now she wants money for doing stuff that, in one breath she says she’s been doing for years, but in another that it is somehow different now. And I understand that this is the way of the world. Everybody wants more money, and I wish her luck with it. But she can really stop trying to sell it to me. I am very happy with my internet advertising, thank you very much….

She has sent us loooong e-mails about how many hits and blah blah blah as compared to the other websites and blah blah blah. And we’ve responded that we are not interested in advertising on her sites. But she keeps at it, trying to explain it in just the right way so we’ll give her money. She’s probably a very good salesperson, but that type of pushy behavior just turns me right off.

Yesterday, I responded to one of her loooong e-mails and said, basically, that all the technical stuff (which looks like blah blah blah to me), really means nothing to me, and that I am happy with the business we get from what we do and that I was disappointed that our long-time association comes down to a few bucks, now.

Then she called. She got Michael first and talked his ear off. He agreed to do some research on the numbers she gave him. Then she talked to me. And she talked and talked some more until I was forced to lie to her and tell her I had an appointment to get to. She kept saying the same stuff over and over. And, although I don’t understand all the intricacies of everything she said, I got the jist of it, but she just went on and on and on (blah blah blah). Finally I hung up. Then I went to the computer and there was another e-mail from her! I couldn’t believe it!

This time, I couldn’t stop myself. I apologized for not being into the hard-sell thing and told her how I react to annoying telemarketers and timeshare sales people. I thought that would be the end. But lo and behold, this morning there was another short (thank goodness!) e-mail refuting some of the wording in my e-mail about her “new” venture. But she promised she would stop bothering me. Well, she got the last word, and I hope it truly is.

I love this guy’s writings. They challenge and inspire. Here’s a passage from the introduction to

“A Quantum Theory of Godly and Human Behavior”:

This is a Dodo.

The Dodo was a flightless biped, like we are.It is extinct.

Our species, Homo Sapiens Sapiens, could become extinct just as easily.

Some of us, those of us at the top of our heap, are using up more resources than the planet could provide if everyone followed their example. That’s how they know they are important. The amount of resources they waste is a badge, an emblem, a “status symbol”.

Most of the rest of us in Western Civilization copy them as best we can. We do that so we don’t feel like nobodies. We do that even when our only function, like Scott Adams’ “Dilbert”, is to be a status symbol for our often incompetent bosses.

We are so proud of the idea that everyone has an equal right to feel important that we preach it in our popular art. At the same time we build walls to keep poor people out of our country. Even inside the walls of our Golden Ghetto the gap between the rich wastrels and the wanna-be wastrels increases every year.

It is entirely possible that the global economy is so attuned to our waste that when the lower strata of the developed countries get scared and stop wasting, the global economy will collapse.

It is also possible that the intellectuals from undeveloped countries (who are quite aware that they are being kept low status in western eyes) will manage to get nuclear weapons for their guerilla warfare.

It is also possible that our waste will bring on some massive natural disaster, and our response will be suicidally inept.

Any of these could lead to the “Decline and Fall of Western Civilization”.

That “decline and fall” is probably inevitable, considering the inertia of civilizations, but to the extent that we understand what it happening we may be able to reduce the trauma and make rebuilding a better civilization easier.

The intention of this essay is to help us understand what is happening so we can do what we can not to imitate the Dodo.

That means the multitude of potholes in our roads have been getting patched. There will soon be hundreds of hard bodies on gazillion dollar bikes zooming by like fighter jets.

I just hope nobody gets killed this year. One of the main triathlon roads has been getting eaten away by the huge dump trucks taking dirt and rocks from the hill they are steadily demolishing for the ridiculous and long-awaited (by few) Christiansted by-pass. If they don’t pave it soon, there will be deaths. And I see no sign that it will be paved.

Oh, but today one of the huge dump trucks careened down the hill from the project, ran over a pick-up truck and hit a house while taking out electrical lines. And the highway crew is painting lines on another road. How helpful for those bikers whose lives are at stake on the major route. Aaah, paradise!

Last week was a busy one work-wise, even . And we were out every night but Friday. So I didn’t have time to write about many of our doings.

Tuesday, Melissa and Ed arrived from STT. They came to escape the craziness of carnival there. They stayed at another friend’s cottage. We hadn’t seen Melissa since our wedding, and I had never met Ed.

We had them over for cocktails and hors d’oeuvre at the same time that my daughter came over for a massage and we were waiting for a call from Peter, who was just coming back from a visit to NY and Arkansas. We went to the Deep End afterward, thinking we might get to see the weary traveler, but he was so weary that he wasn’t there.

The Deep End bar is really my favorite place on St. Croix for fun, delicious and inexpensive fare. And they always have good wines. Lesley is the owner of the Deep End and the Galleon, and both places have become immensely successful since she took them over. She and Mitchell do a great job and seem to inspire the talented staff to do the same.

Tuesday night is “Italian night” there, and Mitchell’s landlord, Pietro, who owns 3 or 4 restaurants in NYC, was at The Deep End with a bunch of friends. Besides that, the place was packed, and some of the staff had called in sick, so Lesley and Mitch were waiting tables and entertaining Pietro and co. at the same time. Lesley recommended a fabulous zinfandel, which we imbibed with relish (hold the mustard) And we saw this same wine the following night for $10 more at a different restaurant (read on…). Actually, since we had just eaten a bunch of munchies at our house, we weren’t too hungry, so I had a bowl of my favorite tomato basil soup, Michael had the tuna salad, Melissa and Ed shared a salad and some eggplant parm. All yummy.

Wednesday, I was supposed to massage a couple of visitors at a villa on the east end. They’d initially contacted us via an ancient e-mail address, which made me wonder about them in the first place (if you google “massage on st croix” or anything even remotely resembling that, you can get our current contact info from our website). Michael talked me into replying to their initial contact (in December for their April visit) even though it had gone into my “junk” box since it was so cryptic. We had agreed on Wednesday, April 23 for their sessions and I put them down in my book.

The week before they got here, I sent an e-mail to confirm, but there was a typo on my message. It said Wednesday, April 24. Rather than asking about the discrepancy, they assumed I’d be there Thursday the 24th, so when I got there on Wednesday, it didn’t work for them. I was pissed! This villa is about as far east as you can get and I drove out there for nothing even though I tried to confirm with them the week before. And I had no other time on other days.

Lesson learned: If people make appointments 4 months in advance, they MUST put down a 50% deposit. I had stupidly saved those spots for them for 4 months, denying anyone else who may have wanted to pay in advance, the opportunity to actually get massages during those hours. Dummy me!

Anyway, Melissa and Ed went hiking to the tide pools that day, but made appointments for massages with someone else the following day, since I was busy. I could have massaged our friends on Wednesday instead of wasting time driving to friggin’ timbuktu. Aaargh!

That night we went to Savant with them and Tom (at who’s house they were staying) and had a lovely meal. After dinner, we walked down to the waterfront and called Wreggie and Gigi to tell them that the light pole which had been knocked over, was now erect. We stopped in a Zebo’s for espresso martinis. Mmmmm!

Next day Melissa and Ed borrowed our bikes and rode around the Great Pond area down to the beach where they found lots of sea glass. I always wonder what people will do with that stuff. All I’ve ever done with it is move it around when I’m dusting. Over the years, Michael has collected a bunch of trinkets from beaches and they basically sit around collecting dust. They’re pretty, though, when they’re not covered with dust (which is rare).

We had a party to go to at the Yacht Club that night, but we talked about going snorkeling the following day. But they pooped out on us, even before they saw the gloomy day. And they went back to STT on children’s parade day. The next day would be the adult parade. We were perplexed, because we thought they had come over to avoid those things. Oh well, just another example of Cruzan confusion.

I’m wondering if they were just craving some of their favorite STT libations. They couldn’t seem to get a good drink while they were here (except for the wines with dinner and the martinis at Zebos). They tried pina coladas at Off the Wall and margaritas, etc at Sunset Grill and couldn’t drink any of them. I can sympathize. I’ve had a crummy dark and diet at Sunset. The ice tasted like it was made with gray water. We were at Cane Bay beach bar yesterday and I had a frozen marg that stunk. It was really watery tasting. The one at Off the Wall was good, though. I guess it’s one of those “hit or miss” things.

Xenophobia is defined by dictionary dot com as: “an unreasonable fear or hatred of foreigners or strangers or of that which is foreign or strange.”

The other night we went to a “brainstorming session” in Frederiksted. There was a small group of people assembled to gather ideas about an up-coming day-long workshop on “Racism and Xenophobia”. I went to listen, but the group was so small, I was asked to talk about why I was there.

In the recent past, my opinion about some of the people in this group was that they seemed to be looking for “handouts”. Talks on reparation for the descendants of slaves had been ongoing by this group and a group of Danish citizens. I skimmed articles in the local papers on the subject whenever I had a chance. I’m not sure if their talks had resulted in any solutions. And I dismissed their concerns as “their problem” and wished they’d just “get over it” and help solve the problems we have in our society here and now. It’s in the past and there’s nothing we can do to change the past. All we can do is hopefully learn from the mistakes and triumphs of the past.

But I am interested in listening to peoples’ feelings about their ancestry and their place in the world today. As a woman who has deep emotions and feelings which I can’t always explain, I often need to try to. When Michael and I argue, I want him to understand what I’m upset about. So I try, sometimes successfully and sometimes not, to get in touch with my feelings and explain them to him. Also, I’ve not read a lot of history. So my understanding of the issues may not be as clear as it could.

I think many descendants of slaves have come to terms with the past and don’t allow themselves to dwell on it, so they can live their lives and succeed in today’s society. But I guess many haven’t, and they want to talk about it. They want their feelings to be listened to and heard. And I am willing to listen. Totally understandable, and I applaud their courage. But just like when Michael and I come to an understanding after a discussion (or not), after we have discussed these issues, I want us all to get to work to actually solving the problems of survival and well-being for every member of our community.

I will post this for now and take issues I personally have with the reparation movement individually in the coming days so I can try to more eloquently explain them.

It’s probably a combination of things. The skies were gray when we woke up. Then they turned gray-blue at one point, but back to gray again. And it actually rained. Then it stopped and stayed gray. Then it drizzled. I want to cut the grass this week-end, but the grass did not dry out for most of today, and when it finally did, I was out of energy. I guess that’s one of the reasons I’m grouchy.

The haze has begun. The Saharan dust comes across the Atlantic and messes with peoples’ respiratory systems. It’s depressing. April and June are the months I remember having the worst dusty haze. I may be wrong, but in my recollection, it’s been April and June. I get annoyed when it lasts for days, and it started earlier in the week. I guess that proves I could never live in New England again. And especially not in the Pacific northwest.

I hate it when I have a whole day and get just the usual little house-worky things done like making breakfast, doing the dishes, doing laundry, checking e-mails, feeding the birds and watering the dogs and cats, making lunch, blah blah blah. On a day when we were scheduled to go snorkeling with friends (who pooped out on us) and we suddenly had a bunch of time to accomplish stuff, I feel like I didn’t do enough.

Well, it was a poopy day anyway. Didn’t feel like a good snorkeling day, but you never know. Getting in the water is therapeutic and I probably needed a fix. Hopefully, we can do something watery on Saturday or Sunday. After the grass gets cut.

Translation: “Go west, young man, to the St. Tropez”

We found ourselves in Frederiksted the other night. We had gone to a meeting and needed dinner afterward. The meeting was a brainstorming session about an upcoming event on St. Croix. It will be about Racism and Xenophobia. More on that in a future post.

It had been a looong time since we’d been to Le St. Tropez, the French restaurant in F’sted. I think last time was for carnival parade day 2007. Lesley usually reserves a large table and invites all he friends to sit and rest with a cocktail and hors d’oeuvre when the mood strikes. It’s a cool tradition. But it had been even longer since I’d had dinner there.

We arrived between 7:30 and 8 pm and there were only two other diners in the place. Tom was our waiter, owner Danielle was tending bar, and chef Willy was relaxing before it was time for him to return to the kitchen.

We sat and ordered a bottle of La Vielle Ferme, a lovely and affordable French red wine, while we perused the chalkboard menu. Everything sounded wonderful and we finally decided to try the French onion soup, the blue cheese salad, the escargots and a brochette of shrimp and scallops over rice and veggies.

I love the ambiance in the little courtyard and the coziness of the indoor bar area. It feels so European and comfortable with soft lighting and rustic decor.

Tom quickly brought us a nice basket of crunchy French bread with real butter (not those foo-foo butters with honey and crap like we’re starting to see everywhere). Mmmm!

The soup was perfect, hearty and flavorful with plenty of melted cheese spilling out over the sides of the crock. And the salad fresh with crisp lettuce and veggies and a mountain of blue cheese. Lots of food!

By the time the entrées arrived, I was pretty full, but I sacrificed and persevered, eating all but three of my snails. Michael shared a couple of bites of the shrimp and scallops with me. Magnifique! Since we oh-so-rarely get out to the west end to enjoy the gastronomical delights of authentic French cuisine, we saved our left-overs and ordered the crème Martine for dessert. It is like a crème brulée, but with a chocolate ganache and raspberry sauce topped with whipped cream and toasted almonds. Ooh la la! We asked for coffee, but Tom forgot, and we were finished dessert and didn’t need it by the time we reminded him. I thought it was just taking a while to brew….Oh well, it was still fabulous.

Le St. Tropez in Frederiksted is definitely worth the trip for lunch or dinner!

For more photos see Le St. Tropez gallery

We got an e-mail from our friend, Lisa, this morning:

Monday morning, April 21, 2008 walking down Company Street to check the mail and I see a familiar face - it’s Llew! Moving slow and careful but walking and talking. His wonderful low melodious voice seemed just fine. He says he’s not back to sailing yet but is hoping to be up to it soon. We discussed the wonders of modern technology and how miraculous the series of events were that saved his life. I asked if he got to see a bit of heaven and he said he doesn’t remember anything, even though people told him he was responding to them. I told him how my experience with an accident was the same. Dr. Griffth has a long list of dos and don’t that he will try to follow and he says he is taking care of himself.

Great news! Thanks, Lisa!

The pictures from “A Taste of St. Croix” are finally here! And there are some good ones. They were installed on my computer and then I tried to upload them to our “Gallery” (Michael whizzed by as I was attempting this and said, “Oh, those are huge!”). And they were so huge that some memory somewhere was filled up and they wouldn’t go to the gallery, so I couldn’t post them until they were shrunken down.