We actually took a day off from around the house duties this past week-end to enjoy our surrounding waters.

Saturday, we borrowed one of the Yacht Club’s Rhodes-19 sailboats and practiced tacking and jibing in the perfect gentle winds and calm seas of that day. Michael did a great job at the helm and first mate, Michelle skillfully handled the jib sheet.

I, of course had to hold and console the little dog, who had a traumatic experience last time he was on a small monohull, and was NOT a happy camper at all being on one again. A few years ago, when we owned a small sailboat, we went out on a rough day and got into trouble, and had to be towed back to the club.

He survived a couple of hours on the water, though. Nothing bad happened, and he was rewarded with a nap on the cool, not- rolling floor of the yacht club while we enjoyed a yummy lunch of mahi sandwiches.

After that, we took Michelle to our favorite snorkeling spot, where we saw three hawksbill turtles and dozens of other very cool sea creatures, coral formations and sea fans.

Yes, another awesome day in paradise!

In restaurant news….. Well, it may not be news to a lot of people, but Frank and Katherine Pugliese have taken over at Cane Bay Beach Bar. We KNOW it will be good, now! Apparently it has opened and everybody knew about it but us. We’ll get there ASAP. Maybe this coming week-end if it’s not PACKED.

Since Frank is no longer at the Galleon, Craig Butler is back cooking there, along with Yummy.

Mitchell and Bob from Zebo’s will be taking over at the Cultured Pelican in the next few weeks. Can’t wait to eat there again!

“Good Spirits” Deli and BBQ will hopefully open soon where Lori’s used to be.

And Ziggy is the new owner of the gas station formerly known as Smokey’s. New menu, new energy…looking good. We saw him last night at Luncheria with his very sweet right-hand man, Dale.

The restaurant on the corner formerly known as the South Shore Cafe and most recently, Kaleidoscope, has been re-painted (from their nice bright blue to a dull beige – soooo strange), so I guess it will be re-opening as something. Will find out and report ASAP.

New energy! Exciting and wonderful!

But we still don’t have cable or satellite to get any of it.

This week, we’re in luck, though!

PBS and the National Park Service are showing the series “The National Parks: America’s Best Idea” on a big screen TV on the lawn next to the gazebo in Christiansted. Last night we went and learned how John Muir and others worked tirelessly to get Yosemite and Yellowstone set aside as the first National Parks.

It is very awe -inspiring.

I can’t think of a much better way to spend an evening  than being outdoors relaxing on a cool, comfortable night. The lights of the harbor buoys  flashed red and green, and the moon shone golden on the dark water as people fished off the boardwalk and kids ran around playing.

Unfortunately, there were only a handful of folks out there. A couple of families and individuals and us. Hopefully many others were watching at home.

The series continues every night this week at 8pm at the Christiansted National Historic Site. We’re going to be there every night but Thursday, when we have turtle night patrol duty.

Hope to see more people there tonight!

The tiles are all installed and they look great.

There of course has to be a dark lining behind this silver cloud.

Yogi has died.

The day before the job was to be finished, Yogi asked me if he could go outside. I had not allowed him in previous days because of all the noise and activity. Yogi is the kitty who came home partially paralyzed a few months ago. He’d been doing so well, adapting to being an indoor/outdoor kitty, so I stupidly thought that, since the guys were almost done, they surely would be done making a lot of noise and he’d be fine out there.

I’m having a hard time dealing with this because I made the conscious choice to let him go out. He went out. I had a couple of appointments that morning, so I wasn’t home to hear what was going on out there.

Doors had been taken off an outdoor closet and the pump room, and the tile guys were nice enough to cut the doors and replace them (they did a great job, too). But at some point, Yogi must have gotten scared and hidden in the pump room and then maybe tried to jump to a high shelf with his weakened back legs. Then he must have fallen on something in there and really hurt himself.

When I got home from my appointments, I was thrilled that they were able to cut the doors and put them back on. They left and I started to sweep the dust and pieces of concrete and hardened thin-set out of the laundry room, where they had also removed, cut and replaced a door.

I heard Yogi crying from outside and opened the door. He wasn’t there, but I heard him from inside the pump room, so I opened the door and called him. He was crying and in pain, but he was able to drag himself out from under the water tank. He was again only using his front legs. He was covered with vomit and urine and thin-set or grout, but he bravely dragged himself out of the pump room and into a carrier. I called the vet, and the receptionist (this one I really don’t like) reluctantly told me to come in with him, since it “seems to be an emergency”.

Yogi and I talked all the way to the vet. He was really brave about the whole thing, so I hoped that it would be like last time and he’d be able to make a miraculous come-back.  I wasn’t ready to let him go. Dr. Stacia was not nearly as optimistic as I.

She explained a couple of possible reasons for his paralysis, but the prognosis was not good at all. I wanted her to x-ray him and give him some more steroids since they helped him last time. She said that he’d have to stay overnight, and I agreed since I knew he’d be more comfortable there. It’s a pretty cushy animal hospital, after all.

Anyway, my poor little Yogums didn’t make it through the night. So I’ve been beating myself up for letting him go outside that day.

Michael dug a hole while I went to get his little body. The Sugar Mill staff had picked some flowers for us, and we got another little gravestone, too. Nice touches.

I still feel responsible. He didn’t have to die like that. He knew I loved him, but it still really sucks.

The tiles are almost all laid and the guys have been grouting the front and side porch. Woo hoo!

Since last Tuesday, we have been getting up a little earlier every day and getting the dogs ready to have workers around. This means that after they’ve had their morning “cookies”, I put Wiley out in the back yard (he snapped at one of the painters when they were here, so he can no longer be trusted), and Yoda goes outside in the front yard where Emmy, Fudge and Bebe have chowed down their Vita Bones and are making their morning rounds sniffing things and peeing where necessary.

I clean up the poop and then move the dog beds from the porch to under the neem trees, where Fudge and Bebe will be tied up for the day. They are getting used to this routine now, but at first, Fudge was highly insulted that I would not let him “help” the tile guys. He’s such a good boy.

After Yoda and Emmy are finished outside, I move them into our bedroom where they will spend the day. I close the sliding glass door so Yoda doesn’t go through the screen. She will occasionally bark like crazy at the guys that she can see through the glass, but she’ll calm down when I go in to talk to her. Emmy’s just happy to be inside.

We even did this all on Sunday, since they said they wanted to work for a few hours that day. Well, that didn’t happen. Too much partying for the guys on Saturday night, I guess. But they did call to let us know they wouldn’t be making it to work. So the dogs regained their freedom even earlier than we expected.

Not a lot of turtle activity on our morning patrols. Oh well, the experts did expect it to be a slow year for greens and hawksbills. But we had a nice snorkel Sunday when we swam out to Green Cay. Saw a very large green turtle with a big long tail, and a couple of  smaller hawksbills. I love the sea fan gardens out there. The colorful waving of the fans as the currents move them is one of my favorite underwater seascapes. We swam around out there for over an hour. It was great!

Yesterday, I noticed that my watch had stopped working. Since my daughter has closed her store and Patrick has retired, I went to Millenium Jewelers on Queen Cross Street. The woman working there sent me across the street to Tropical Jewelry which was closed because they’re officially on vacation. But Gotham was still there and agreed to change my watch batteries for me. How sweet is that? What a lifesaver, too, because I’m a watch-a-holic, and wear mine 24/7/365.

Anyway, when he reopens the store after vacation, I will definitely go shopping there for holiday gifties. He’s got some pretty cool stuff, and his space in that very old historic building is beautiful.

I love this place!

The other week-end, we went to buy the tiles for 1200+ square feet of porch. One of the guys sitting in the flooring showroom said he would be able to do the installation. So we made an appointment for him to come the next day (Sunday) to check out the job and give us an estimate.

He really showed up at around 10am on Sunday morning. He measured the job and wrote up an estimate. We needed to do some preparation before we could have him start, so we asked him if he could come Labor Day week. He said that he could, and he also said he recognized the truck  in our neighbor’s yard, knew his name, and used to work with him on a construction crew.

So after he left, we checked with the neighbor and eventually found out that he does good work. He’s from Haiti and his accent is pretty thick, so there have been a few communication difficulties. We’re used to the regular West Indian accent without the French, so maybe I can try to use some of my long forgotten second language from my childhood.

Another guy we talked to about building shutters recommended a stateside guy for the tile job. The stateside guy came over and didn’t measure anything. He wrote a number down from our receipt from the flooring company, multiplied it by 3, added some for the steps and gave me a number. His number was about 30% higher than the Haitian’s. I was not impressed by his lazy attitude toward measuring and we’ve had a couple of less-than stellar experiences with supposedly able stateside construction workers who give you a good line, but get distracted by other jobs they’re working on at the same time, or they keep jacking the figures up as the job progresses. I like confidence but not cockiness, and the stateside guy’s attitude left a lot to be desired.

We figured the guy from Haiti would need the money more, he’d be more familiar with Caribbean construction (another thing about statesiders is they base a lot on what works where they come from. And as we well know, stuff down here does not always work that way), and he wouldn’t be resentful about having to work for a living.

He and his helper arrived at around 7:30am, just as he said they would. They got right to work scraping paint off the back porch and Michael helped the boss man moving the thinset and grout and tiles while his helper went to see about immigration paperwork.

The truck that delivered the materials couldn’t fit into the yard close enough to the car port, so there was a lot of heavy lifting to get the stuff in bags undercover. After everything was delivered he started right away on the east porch. Both he and his helper are neat and polite and after I asked them to keep me informed, the communication has been flowing more smoothly.

So far the job is progressing well.

During the rains on Friday, Michael went to rent a pressure washer and spent most of the day pressure washing in the rain. The guys at the rental place questioned his wanting to work in this weather, but when he explained what a good idea it was to use the water from the cistern to pressure wash while the cistern was being refilled with water, they totally agreed with this brilliant idea. He was pretty soggy out there in his raincoat and boots. The paint chips from the ugly old brown floor paint stuck to him all over. It took him all day, but the porch came out great and he got all of the crud off that side of the house, too.

Wreggie and his friend, Ty had arrived from NC on Wednesday night, and one of their vacation projects would be to install a venting unit the roof of the Pickled Greek kitchen to remove some of the heat from the cooking. Last week, Aaron said it was 140 degrees in there !!  A little ceiling prep got done on Saturday, but they didn’t cut a hole out, since there would be people working in there that night. They’d wait until Sunday to actually install the vent.

Saturday morning, Michael started working remotely from home on the webcam for the Greek that he a Wreggie had been working on together. That was another of Wreggie’s vacation projects. After Wreggie and Ty played a little with the camera over there, too, they took off to go snorkeling. Michael was having trouble with working remotely, so he went down to the restaurant for the rest of the afternoon.

Michael and Wreg had been conspiring to put in a webcam there since before it even opened, but the owner didn’t want them to. However, since the “incident”, a couple of weeks ago, the owner has changed his tune. Now there is a webcam hooked up which faces the front door and records the comings and going of everyone in that spot. But with internet fluctuations during the stormy days,  Michael continued having trouble getting it to work the way he wanted it to. Eventually, since we had dinner reservations for 7, he headed home at around 6.

Just as Michael was coming home to get ready to head into town to go to Galangal for dinner, the storm came back, poured more rain all over everything, and there was thunder and lightning enough to make power go out at the restaurant, scare the dogs again and make us cancel our dinner reservations.

The Greek’s generator  had a dead battery, so Vinny got his jeep close enough to it to jump start it, and they were set to serve.

I was all dressed and ready to go to dinner, and as I walked into the kitchen, I walked into a puddle. I thought that one of the dogs had had an accident, since they were so scared of the thunder, but quickly realized that our cistern had started to overflow into the house. This was a first! We’ve had a lot of rain storms, and we have a large roof and a small cistern, but because, in the past, we’ve had old, leaky, flimsy gutters, excess water would spill out and not overwhelm the overflow pipe.

Well, now we have nice new extra large gutters and downspouts, so a LOT a WATAH was getting into that underground water tank. So much that it started coming into the house in the storage room which also houses our fancy shmancy inverter to change DC current from the solar panels into AC used by all of our appliances and ceiling fans, etc. Yikes!

I reminded Michael that we had the downspouts installed so that if this happened, we could remove a cap and the water in the gutters would immediately drain out into the yard and not make it to the cistern. So he got the wrenches and went out to fix the problem while I used lots of towels to sop up the water which had come into the dining/living room. We then put a small fan into the storage room to dry out the  floor and damp boards underneath the big batteries that store some of our excess electricity. Whew!

Sunday afternoon, we all went snorkeling at Tamarind and saw three different hawksbill turtles! And lots of fish, too.

Monday, we went west to snorkel out to the wreck of the North Wind. We had lunch at Sunset Grill (yum) and then I had to head east to go to work. They went to the crab races in town and I met them at the Deck Bar. After a nice dinner at Rum Runners, we were tired and came home.

The tropical storm formerly known as Erika went by but came back it seems. After we waited aaahll day yesterday for it to start raining. I could have been painting, but I baked (or tried baking – I rarely do that, so my corn muffins came out like hockey pucks). It was not nearly as rewarding as painting either. In creating food all your effort eventually goes down the toilet.

Anyway, Erika took her sweet old time arriving (while we waited after moving things around that had just been put back after the threat of Ana a couple of weeks ago). And finally around midnight the big rains started. The thunder and lightening frightened the dogs who huddled in front of the door, whining pathetically.

So of course we let them in and it took them a while to settle down and we were wide awake again.

With the menopause coming on, my sleep patterns are pretty erratic, too. Last night was just one more in a string of lousy nights of sleep. Hence, I’m frequently grouchy, anxious and depressed. But…. we heard on the radio the other day that depression has hit epidemic proportions. (sigh) So I’m not alone. (thank goodness) I’d better start sneezing into my elbow, though!

We’ve been busy doing the detail work around the new deck because once the passion fruit vines start to take over, they will be totally in the way. That’s just about done.

But now, we’ve bought a bunch of tile and thinset and grout, and the guy will be coming next week to start laying tile on over 1200 square feet of porch. So the big push is on to get most of the paint onto the house before the nice new tiles are laid. We’re not the neatest painters. I always get paint all over my body and in my hair.

There are drips and spills all over the place, and even the dogs have been getting in on the fun.

Well, we don’t even know if the person or persons responsible for contacting the service animal registry still read this blog. They may have started their campaign against us a year or two ago, when there were a lot of critics who commented by calling us and our friends names and even threatening us.

Believe it or not, some disgruntled reader contacted the company we used to register Goliath as a service animal and complained. This very peculiar company chose to believe a person with a personal vendetta against us and revoke Goliath’s certification rather than contacting us to discuss the situation. I received a certified letter the other day after I repeatedly called the company which had cashed my check for renewal, but never sent me updated registration cards. When you call this strange company, you always get a voicemail, and there was no signature, not even a person’s name on this letter.

So we’ve gone with another much more professional service animal registration company. You can see Goliath’s new service animal registration here. You can search their data base with my last name, Chretien, and Goliath’s name, and there you have it!

So, some of the suspense is over (for our faithful readers). We however still do not know, and we may never find out who was so petty as to stoop to trying to prevent Goliath from going everywhere with us. The three of us will be watching out for him/her or them, though. I’ll spend part of my day today fixing the little snuggli we have for him, and he’ll join us even more places from now on….

Ha, ha, ha!!!

This is so incredibly cool!

We got an e-mail the other day from an avid St. Croix bird watcher. She and another friend had been at our Great Pond and photographed a whimbrel with a tag on her leg. It turns out that this bird also has a radio attached to her and she has been tracked from Virginia to northern Canada, and then down to here in our backyard.

You can check out her migration path and others here.

And here are a couple of actual photos of this soon-to-be-famous bird at Great Pond:

You can actually see the radio and antenna in the picture on the left. How cool is that!?!

Well that last blog post seems to have been a real dud. Let’s see if I can go two in a row.

A couple of months ago, Michael came across “Earthlings“. He wanted to buy a bunch of copies to give out to people and organizations.

I told him that over 20 years ago, watching “The Animals Film” changed my life forever. And back then, I wanted everyone to watch it. But with time, I have come to see that most people are just plain selfish and too fat and comfortable with their American lifestyle. Even people who supposedly “love animals” want to keep their heads in the sand and pretend that the burger or hot dog they are eating was not once a living, breathing,  creature who had emotions and felt pain.

So do I because I do lose sleep sometimes thinking about what animals go through at the hands of insensitive humans every minute of every day and that they have been suffering  for centuries. But it’s gotten so much worse today with factory farming and our increasing supply and demand. I have been called names as I protested the fur trade, hunting, and the circus. I have been arrested twice during protests, but apparently I have not done enough.

Michael bought 10 copies of “Earthlings”. We sat down together to watch it even though I knew I would be sick if I did. I had to leave the room after just a few minutes. I was in tears sobbing and knew that the scenes I had seen would haunt me. This was weeks ago, and every now and then I start to cry thinking about the guy slaughtering the pigs. The way he mocks and ridicules their frightened and stunned behavior…..

Michael was strong enough to watch the whole thing while I sobbed as I played computer games to try to numb myself.

It is not for the faint of heart to watch this movie, but the more people who do, the better the plight of our fellow Earthlings will be.

Hopefully.

We still have 9 copies……

There are many times that the people we come in contact with express their priorities in life. They do it in many ways.  And actually even people we don’t come in direct contact with express their priorities to us in many ways.

Ever since I was very young, I have been interested in the truth and what is right. These have been my main priorities. In fact,  the truth and what is right have had a tremendous effect on my career and my lifestyle choice.

In my world, there are certain behaviors that are “right” and certain behaviors that are “wrong”. Others may disagree with me, but, since I live on a beautiful planet which sustains me and my fellow inhabitants, I place the health of this planet at the top of my list of priorities. If our planet is not healthy, none of her inhabitants will be. Anyone who does something intentionally harmful to our planet is wrong in my book.

Many people believe that we humans can rip up parts of our planet to build factories which will produce things that they believe will make their lives better. They believe that all humans can continue to drill into the Earth and take substances out which will allow them to drive extremely inefficient vehicles which produce toxic fumes and gases, and that this will not effect the health of our beautiful planet.

I’m a believer in a holistic lifestyle, where all parts of a living system interact to create health.

I believe that our beautiful planet cannot maintain its health if we continue to rip pieces of it up. Just as people who have parts of them ripped away, whether physical or emotional, have difficulty maintaining good health without a tremendous amount of support, our planet cannot continue to sustain herself or us without our consideration of the effect that our activities have on her.

Our excessively consumeristic lifestyle, which other developing countries wish to emulate is killing our planet, and many people (I will call them “idiots” to be kind) refuse to believe this. People continuously argue that global warming is not happening. Well, how can it not be. Just look around. Just pay attention to the natural environment and the depletion of the beautiful and formerly bountiful resources that we’ve enjoyed. And even if it’s not as drastic as some say, even if our Mother Earth can miraculously come back from the attack of the humans, why not err on the side of caution and try to protect her? We only have one planet.

We have soooo much more than we need to survive and live a happy healthy life. But there are those who refuse to change their excessive lifestyle. I just don’t get it. Why can’t “the powers that be” be less greedy and more holistic-minded? I guess it’s because the “little people” (aka consumers) have also become greedy and support the excess that is not only killing the planet, but their own health.

Sometimes I just want to say, “Fuck ‘em all”, and sometimes I do. But mostly, I get up in the morning seeing the miraculous colors that the sunrise brings. I am nuzzled by my furry four-legged children and I admire my adorable life partner as he makes the coffee. My life is so rich even without all the “stuff” that many other people have come to “need”.

I’m lucky, and I live in the hope that others may someday be happy with what they have rather than always wanting more.

First, I’m going to send out HUGE hugs once again to Greg and Margaret for visiting and causing the massive clean-up that made our house and yard presentable. (Miss you guys!)

This major overhaul made preparing for Ana and Bill a piece of cake. And it’s not because Ana and Bill did not and will not come to sit right on top of us (we never really know, but need to prepare well in advance – just in case), it’s because there’s very little crap still left around to fly in the wind.

Most of my plants have been re-potted into ceramic pots which are less likely to blow around in the wind, and which do not disintegrate in the tropical sun like any plastic. The Land Rover parts which had become a major eyesore and hazard are now comfortably stuffed into the ugly container (in the back yard and camouflaged by trees). The Rover roof which had been jammed under the mango trees, has been moved and tied to the other side of the ugly container. Woohoo!

I asked Micheal to count the number of windows that needed 2X4′s to secure the shutters and to make sure we had enough boards. He replied that he had checked before, but would double check now. He made sure that we have enough and they are easily accessible.

The chaise lounges by the pool and the chairs around the outdoor dining table were easily secured. Last minute items would be closing the shutters, lowering orchids and ferns from trees and tables, and taking heavy planters off railings.

Inside, the massage room still is not put back together since the painting of the ceilings, so dogs could easily be put in there without worry, the cats have been getting along in and outside, so closing them in the laundry room would not be a problem. We actually have one of those Staples’ “easy” buttons, which we definitely could have used yesterday.

The moral of the story is this: keep the place properly maintained and there should be no real issue with preparing for a hurricane.

We were so comfortable after moving a few things around yesterday morning, that we went snorkeling at our favorite hawksbill-sighting beach underwater trail (and we saw two small hawksbills), which is also a lot easier to get to than Buck……

Oh, and on the way back from doing a couples massage, we stopped at the yacht club to strap Origami and the extra kayak to the dinghy rack. Piece of cake!

Ahhh….paradise!

Well, the jury’s still out. There are a few cautious proponents, but there are more vociferous opponents to the supposedly carved- in-granite deal in which garbage from our landfills in addition to pet coke, a by-product from the oil refinery will be burned to produce electricity.

We need to get rid of our landfills, we need to get rid of our garbage, and something needs to be done with the pet coke. We also “need” a utility which uses cheap alternative energy to produce power. Well, people need jobs and the government of the VI needs to feel like their in control of the power situation. But this is going to be adding to the green house gases that some of us are trying to reduce.

I’d prefer everyone have solar panels on their homes and generate their own electricity.

As Van jones says in his book, The Green Collar Economy, “Solar energy is as reliable as the sunrise; through solar-thermal and photovoltaics, we can harness the sun’s majestyto make abundant clean energy. Enough solar energy falls on the Earth’s surface in one hour to power all of human civilization for a year.”

Many of us have been calling solar energy a “no brainer” for those of us in the sunny tropics, but the governor and his administration keep trying to demonstrate that they have less than no brains.

We’ll see what happens……

Last Sunday we started our day with our usual beach walk looking for sea turtle nesting or hatching activity. We came home, did some work in the yard, and then we went to the beach at Chenay, where the Parrot’s Cove gang has been running the restaurant now called, Mahi’s. Our friend Maggie was having her birthday celebration there. We had a good time with good friends until around 8:30, when we decided to head home.

A short way after we’d turned onto the East End Road, we saw a deer lying on the side of the road. It was a 4 point buck. It was still alive. So we turned around and came back to check on it. It appeared to have moved itself closer to the road, but it was hard to tell in the dark. We parked across the street to shine the Rover’s headlights on it, Michael crossed the road and could hear it breathing heavily. We debated what to do and decided to call a friend who works for Fish and Wildlife. It was sunday night, so our hopes of finding someone who could help were pretty slim. Our friend’s voicemail box was full, so Michael called 911, if for nothing other than to see if a cop could help us move it so no one would hit its rack and get into an accident. We were also wondering if the 911 system which had just been majorly improved, according to much newspaper and radio hype, would really work. As he was talking to the 911 operator, a police car came by and the officer stopped to check on the deer. We spoke to him and by the time we got close enough, the poor creature had died. I mentioned that if he knew anyone who could butcher it, there would be plenty of fresh meat there for someone, and at least it wouldn’t go to waste. I thought I’d have fitful dreams of  suffering wildlife. I think I dreamed of boats instead.

Monday and Tuesday, I got a little bit of painting done. And we fell asleep Tuesday night around 10:30 or 11pm.At around 12:25 am, the phone rang. My friend Joey in FL frequently calls to chat after going out at night. I rarely pick up unless it’s something important. We also get late night calls from horny creeps on STT looking for a “massage”. And once, my father called while I was staying at Michael’s house before we got married and left a cryptic message.

So I listen for the answering machine to pick up, usually still half-asleep. This time, when my daughter started speaking in her calm, measured voice, I remained calm until she said something about a shooting at the Greek. She carefully prefaced those words with, “…everyone who works here is okay….” but the shooting part made me scramble for the phone. Poor Michael could only hear my end of the conversation which went, “…ohmygod, ohmygod, are you alright? ohmygod, is he alright? He’s DEAD?! ohmygod, ohmygod….” She eventually hung up saying she had to answer some questions from the police.

Since the economy has been so crappy and she’s closed her business, she’s been working at the Greek, waiting tables and bar- tending. She’d been working with Beth that night and they’d had a great night. Busy, but steady and not manic, like the restaurant business can be sometimes.

We ruminated about what to do next. I was pacing. ” We have to go”, I kept saying. “There’s nothing we can do,” he replied. ” I can’t just stay here and do nothing, we have to check on Peter and Aaron and Seth, ohmygod, poor Seth!” I said. “Would you like me to call her back and ask her if we should come?”he asked.

“Yes!”

So Michael called and said, “Your mother is obviously a basket case, should we come?” She said that would be fine. We got dressed and drove down. We should have brought rum because no one was allowed inside at this point. And it would be that way for hours. I brought one small water bottle. We’d sip from it all night.

The next few hours were long and surreal. We got to the Greek and there were a dozen people scattered in small groups. There were some sitting on the ground huddling together under the Tamarind tree. There was sobbing. There were the police officers. There was the dishwasher and the neighbor.  There were the musicians and friends walking around shell-shocked. My daughter was smoking a cigarette.

We hugged her and Papi, then Aaron, who had brought his son Seth into town before flying back after hearing from Mitchell that something bad had gone down at the Greek.

She told us that she was behind the bar, making herself an after-shift drink. They had taken in the outside chairs and tables and closed the shutters. They were just sitting around after a fun evening of music and merriment. The only person left in the kitchen was the dishwasher. Beth had brought a very drunk patron home, and many people had just left. Then masked men stepped inside and one of them took two shots, one of which was fatal. My daughter saw the gun go off and dove to the ground as did everyone else in the place.

Everyone tried calling 911, but the calls wouldn’t go through. My daughter called a friend of hers who is a cop. He answered immediately and soon the police arrived.

At around 2:15, the coroner’s truck arrived. We headed to the police station so Nikki could give them her statement.

It was around 2:45 when she was called in. 20-30 minutes later, other witnesses came out. Everyone was still in shock. An hour later, after computer difficulties, my daughter emerged. Papi had arrived, gone in and come out saying that he had nothing to add to the detailed descriptions the others had given.

My daughter came home with us rather than go home by herself. We had a bite to eat and some rum. The sun was coming up. I drank more rum and they went to bed. I went out to pick up dog poop. I did a load of laundry. I drank more rum. Then I went to bed too. It was around 6 am.

We were up at 9am listening for the news reports. Had the suspects been found? No. Still not as of this writing.

One of my clients hoped that the coming week would be a boring one. Me too.

It’s pronounced like “creaky dam”, and they are the Virgin Islands Sustainable Farm Institute.  Awesome would be a good beginning to describe what they have accomplished and what they are continuing to do for our island community and for our planet Earth.

How can we not love people who have the guts and grit to live the lifestyle that will save the planet?

They are the only certified organic farm in the VI and they do wonderful educational workshops to spread the word about their mission and the issues facing farming on our increasing threatened planet Earth. And more.

We were lucky enough to be able to make it to their “Fermentation Workshop” on Saturday. The drive up into the rainforest is always interesting (Mahogany Road is still chock-full of pot-holes), but going to Creque Dam Farm (and Mount Victory Camp) is well worth the jerky jarring jaunt. And Saturday it was extra exciting since WAPA’s biggest trucks were scattered all along the winding way, preparing to put power poles in.

We actually made it there on time and had a wonderful time with Nora and Jay, farm managers, and visiting biodynamic farmers, Pat and Susan Ross from Micanopy, Florida. There were a handful of other workshop participants with whom we picked veggies from the garden, sat and peeled and chopped and grated, and stood to mix and meld massive amounts of food to be pickled.

We started with over 30 lbs of greens – mostly savoy cabbage and bok choy. We had 3 coolers and a big stainless steel bowl full of the stuff, to which we added chopped garlic and ginger, grated carrot and beet and turmeric. I had never seen turmeric root and had the great pleasure of grating it. The aroma was magical and my hands are still incredibly yellow.

We squished it down some more and there was veggie juice produced from the effect of the mineral salt pulling the liquid out of the cells. Fascinating! The finished product is called “Kim chi”.

We also pickled mangoes and carambola fruit with basil and ginger, and okra with basil and dill and garlic. We made Kvass (beet tonic) with fresh organic beets from the farm and brine (that’s all!), and had a fantastic lunch which included kim chi made by the farm folks previously, and tempeh and yogurt and sourdough bread also made on the premises. Yummmmm!

The VISFI folks will be having more interesting workshops during the coming weeks and months. Sign up for their newsletter (through their website) for notification of these and other worthwhile events at the farm.

Also, and this is VERY important, vote for the farm in National Geographic’s Geotourism Challenge.  Congratulations to the Farm Folks for making it onto the finalist final list! They are in good company, and not only would this be a very prestigious award for the Creque Dam Farm, but it would be great for the island of St. Croix.

We need more attention to projects which do not include casino/golf course/timeshare development. Thanks to all who contacted the NPS about Castle Nugent.  Now let’s get together for VISFI.

Go to their website at www.visfi.org and vote for them! Do it ASAP. Time is of the essence!

I’ve gone on a night-time kayak tour here before, but it was with another company a long, long time ago. Bryan at Virgin Kayaks (340-718-0071) does a wonderful job with this tour. Not only is Bryan an avid historian (to the nth degree) and story-teller, but he’s enthusiastic about the natural processes of this precious area and easily imparts that enthusiasm to his guests.

The best time to go is around the new moon when it’s darkest. We went the other night, not only when the sky was moonless, but there were also no stars to be seen. It was hazy from Sahara dust and overcast from clouds which continuously threatened rain, but did not deliver. So it was pretty dark.

Unfortunately, there is some artificial brightness in the area from street lights and a large rental villa, which at times during the tour make it slightly more difficult to see the flashes of blue in the water, but Bryan knows what to do and where to take his guests to maximize the potential of this sacred place.

It was fantastic!  Michael and I came with our kayak (purchased from Virgin Kayaks a few years back) and met up with Bryan and a small group, including our friends Greg and Margaret in Bryan’s white van towing a trailer full of kayaks for the others. We put in at a small, secluded beach and proceeded to pedal out past old abandoned boats to a roosting area in the mangroves where scores of herons and egrets spend their nights.

After everyone was comfortable in their kayaks, we headed across the bay to “the dark side”, behind the point where the old hotel is.

As we went along, I put one or the other of my hands  into the water and saw small blue flashes emitted in the wake. But when we got into the small bioluminescent bay, the water stirred up by our hands and kayak pedals and paddles wash like glowing blue foam. We paddled more than pedaled and every now and again, we’d hit a jellyfish and a big blue flash would appear beneath the surface. It was magical!

We carried on, observing lightening-like flashes in the pedal holes of our kayaks and waves of light blue under each others’ boats until Bryan suggested we go back to land before the local restaurants closed their kitchens. We reluctantly acquiesced, and on the way back across the bay, flying fish flew by us in the dark.

We all had a fabulous time. We have another tremendous resource at Salt River. Let’s keep supporting  people like Bryan who work to share it’s wonders with us.

Michael’s college roommate, Greg, and Greg’s wife, Margaret have been on island for a few days. They stayed with us from Wednesday to Saturday and now they’re staying at Carambola.

We haven’t had guests for a long time and that’s been the way I’ve wanted it since our home had become a ghetto with construction debris and Land Rover parts strewn about. Paint was peeling off interior and exterior walls and the yard had become overgrown and neglected.

How could we have let this happen? Well…..laziness and Land Rovers. I got really lazy with Michael always working on Rovers and not helping me around this place. I was also depressed about the way I saw St. Croix going and felt like anything I did would be futile, so why bother.

Anyway, a while back, Michael and Greg reconnected and Greg got some great deals on flights and a room at Carambola. So that gave us incentive to get the place spiffed up and we worked like crazed folk for weeks as summarized in past posts.

The place is really shaping up though. There’s still painting to be done, but much of the big stuff is out of the way! Hooray!

And we’ve been having a blast with Greg and Margaret (pictures soon come). We’ve had tapas and wine at Savant and Galangal and Zebos, dinner at the Pickled Greek, breakfast at the Golden Rail, lunch at Sunset Grill and last night after a fun beach day out west, dinner at Rowdy Joe’s.

They have been extremely good campers – appreciative and very helpful. Not once did they mention that my plants needed watering or that the knicknacks or coffee additives were in the wrong place. They never complained about the dogs barking at night (We were always too tired to hear dogs barking and aren’t sure that they did. I think they might have a couple of times though). Greg heard them howling the other morning, their usual start-the-day-off sing-along and found it funny. And Margaret, who is allergic to cats, has not sneezed once – how cool is that!

It has been a wonderful experience meeting Michael’s old friends. We’ve shared some nice California wines and St. Croix mangoes, hiked down to Isaac’s Bay and swam out to the wreck of the North Wind off Butler Bay in Frederiksted.

Greg and Margaret are truly kindred spirits who enjoy the natural wonders of the island. They are interested in the culture and history of the people who have lived and died here. They’re easy to talk to and just be with. I love that they opened the windows of their rental car while driving through the rainforest and the first thing Margaret did when we got to their hotel room was shut off the A/C and open everything up.

I’m already starting to get teary- eyed about them leaving on Thursday. They’re sailing to Buck Island today with Michael and others on a big boat. I have to work a little later, so I’m here at home blogging. It was too windy for us to go parasailing the other day and the seas were too rough to take Origami out to Buck, but we had relaxing fun anyway.

Gotta go do laundry now…..

Tuesday was my daughter’s 29th birthday. And we all know, you only turn 29 a few times, so….

…we kayaked to Buck Island, then went on a sunset sail, visited with Maggie at the Deck Bar (haven’t been there in ages!) and got to see Christine, who has been living and working on a dive boat in Indonesia for a couple of years, then we went to the Pickled Greek.

And that’s how fast that day went by. Whew!

Oh, the new stuff……let’s start on the east end. The word is that chef David Trask will be opening a deli at the Reef where Lori’s used to be. It’ll be nice to be able to stop and pick something up on the way to Buck Island again.

Zebo’s has a new chef. Dave Vargas is now running their kitchen. We were there the other night and it is amazing! Vargas has been personal chef to some of the island’s most (ahem) interesting people, but now he brings his incredible talent and commitment to Strand Street, Christiansted.

We absolutely LOVE the fact that he is using as many local products as possible. Local fish, both fresh-caught and farmed at the university. Locally grown produce and meats. We had the lobster bisque  (which was fabulous), fresh wahoo, and local butter lettuce salad. Yum!

Our dear friend Mitchell, one of the owners, brought us some local cockles! We’d never heard of cockles, but they are shellfish similar to, but smaller than RI quahogs. And they are delicious! Mouth-wateringly tender and juicy. We’ll go back soon and hopefully have more of those! Dessert was also incredible. Mitchell has hired a pastry chef who put together a chocolate dream. Rich chocolate cake with berries and fresh whipped cream wrapped in a chocolate shell. Magnifique!

One of the best things about using locally produced products, besides supporting our own hard-working farmers and allowing us to be less dependent on shipped in foods, is that the menu changes daily depending on what’s available. We love people who think outside the box! Congratulations to Mitchell and Dave Vargas!

Oh, and now the irony!

Tuesday evening while we were in town talking to Maggie and Christine and other friends at the Deck Bar, a guy with a couple of adorable dogs was on the other side of the little inlet where the tarpon feeding occurs nightly. His dogs were barking like mad at the fish in the water. Their loud barking made it difficult for us to enjoy our conversation. So I went over to ask the guy to quiet his dogs down.

He said that he didn’t have to, and he said that if we had a problem, we should “go talk to the police right over there”, who allow him to have his dogs on the boardwalk. I had had a couple of glasses of wine (after champagne on the sunset sail), and since he refused to make his dogs behave appropriately, I said something about him needing attention and maybe it was because part of his anatomy was too small.

He then came over to the Deck Bar and asked Michael to make me behave appropriately. Michael happened to agree with me about the dogs, so we went over to the police officers on duty and complained about the guy. The guy came over with his very well-behaved dogs and showed us all how nice they were. And they are great dogs. But they shouldn’t be allowed to bark and carry on while people are trying to have a conversation at the bar.

After a while, Officer Hernandez walked over to the Deck Bar and asked Maggie and some of the other patrons whether the dogs had been bothering them, and they said that yes, they had. So Officer Hernandez asked the guy to keep his dogs quiet. Hooray!

When we went back to the Deck Bar to see Maggie, she related the story about the nice police officer. She also said that the guy with the dogs probably wouldn’t like it if someone sat across the street from his restaurant and allowed their kids or dogs to create make a nuisance of themselves and disturb his customers.

We asked which restaurant he owned, and she said, “Zebo’s”.

First, let me thank Lisa for calling the radio station to tell the public about the National Park Service meeting in Christiansted last night. I rarely get to read the paper, especially on the day it comes out, so I would have missed something that we’re very interested in if she hadn’t called. Thanks Lisa!

There were maybe a dozen and a half people there and it started off being a very informative and (thank goodness) brief and relevant session. The National Park Service presentation was about the options available to add a substantial portion of the south shore of St. Croix to the National Park System. At the end of the presentation, though, a disgruntled young man (whom we believe has commented with many aliases on this blog in the past – we could just tell by his speech patterns – he writes exactly as he speaks) asked questions about MOU’s and agreements with the local government. He challenged the park service representatives to reassure him that the history of the enslaved people who lived, toiled and died in these areas would be studied and made available to the public. We totally agree, as did the NPS people.  One of the dear, patient audience members reminded him that the park service gave this presentation largely to get more input from the community, that there were forms that he could fill out, he could take some to his friends and have them fill them out, and all concerns would be taken into consideration by the NPS.

He just wouldn’t stop. We had to get up and leave. Partially because I don’t have the kind of patience the other people there have, partially because it was like a refrigerator in there, and we were starting to turn blue, and partially because we needed to have dinner some time before midnight. Note: We have seen this guy speak at a public hearing in favor of the Robin Bay project, which is very confusing to us. We wonder why he is in favor of letting a stateside developer come in and destroy historical areas to build  a casino/resort/golf course , but against preserving the natural beauty and historical sites included in the Castle Nugent project because it’s the National Park Service, who is consistently being accused of “keeping land from the people dem”.

So we left and he was still talking…….

Anyway, just thinking of all this beautiful acreage being preserved for posterity rather than being raped and pillaged by development makes my heart swell. It gives me goosebumps. And it’s one of the very, very few things in life that can make me sit down, close my eyes, and take a deep hopeful breath. Just like I’m doing now.

The options offered by the park service can be seen here. And they need input. We love ” Alternative C”. which would preserve the most land and extend into the sea to the barrier reef. It would also allow “the golden boy” a graceful way out of his proposed piece of crap development, and it would place a park headquarters on site.

We applaud Caroline and Mauro Gasperi, who have been under tremendous pressure from family members to dispose of much of this land. It has taken the park service years to get this far, but that’s the process. With luck, the NPS hopes to have this project completed by the end of the calendar year.

Please take the time to look at the NPS options and submit comments to help St. Croix remain the unique cultural and natural gem that we have always loved.

Aaahhh! Finally! We have a goal, a purpose, something to reach for which inspires us to get stuff done around here.

Guys have been working in the spare bathroom re-tiling the shower floor. It’s taking a little longer for the thinset to dry because the weather has been damp. Holes have been drilled into the decorative front porch blocks to allow for drainage of rain water which historically has sat there creating mats of dog fur in the corners. Hopefully this will help.

Other guys have been over to give us an estimate on fixing the sliding glass door screen in our bedroom that hasn’t worked right since the Centerline Corporation screwed up our order.

Michael has pulled out an old, dying citrus tree which gave awful fruit, and another dead fruit tree which didn’t survive this last dry season, even though I watered it. He has also replaced a faulty light fixture on the front porch.

New gutters will be coming next week. To prepare for that, we must remove the ones that are there and scrape, prime and paint the fascia boards on the north and south sides of the house. This we will do this week-end, by golly.

The kitchen has been painted. Next will be the massage room and the living room, then the bathrooms and office and laundry room. Then the rest of the exterior of the house. Well, the exterior might come between some of those other rooms depending on how we feel and the weather, of course.

And we have checked out what kind of tiles are available for 1100 square feet of porch plus two sets of steps. We’ll ask around for tile guys to get that going once the exterior is painted.

Shutters need to be installed on three window on the west side of the house.

I have also finally figured out what to do with the front yard east of the driveway, and south of the paving project we did last year. Decorative edging, weed eradication, planting some of the Hibiscus I have in pots (and maybe some of the crotons)and lots of mulch are in order. I need to also thoroughly weed the cat yard and re-mulch it.

Today, I went in to the SBA to check on a small business loan. I’ll find out more later in the week.

And, last but not least……it’s mango season. I’d better start processing!

Since our trip aboard the Roseway was not going to be the trip we purchased and we cancelled it, we decided to head to St. Thomas to visit with friends and take a couple of days in the British Virgin Islands.

I visited Virgin Gorda in October with my daughter, and wanted to share time with Michael at Guavaberry Spring Bay. We also wanted to look for a boat, so Tortola was the preferred destination for that.

So sunday, we took the seaplane to STT. Debbie picked us up at 9 am and took us immediately to a deli where we met Melissa. They all had breakfasty type foods while I drank V-8. I wasn’t hungry yet. Ed arrived on his bike just before we were going to leave. After that, we went to another restaurant so I could have a bloody mary and Ed could have breakfast. I had a croissant, too, and Buel, another massage therapist came to see Michael and meet me. We were a raucous crowd by then laughing and catching up on things.

After that, Debbie took us to see the new spa she’s working at – Nice! We stopped to pick up some food, then headed to a fabulous villa that Melissa manages overlooking Magen’s Bay. We had a spectacular afternoon there, then went to Deb’s for a second before heading to a pizza place before it was time to catch our late ferry to Tortola.

We got to Tortola around 10pm and spent the night at Nanny Cay Hotel. There are a lot of boats at Nanny Cay Marina, so we figured we’d find a broker and look at what was for sale. Well, it was Whit Monday in the BVI, a holiday, and all of the brokerage firms were closed. Ha!

Okay, we walked around and talked to a couple of charter company people who helped us quite a bit. We only had two small bags, but one was very heavy, so before we went to look at a very interesting boat, we stopped at the ferry dock to ask if we could leave it there. One of the nice ferry comapny employees told us that we could certainly leave our bag in the loading dock area under cover and “nobody gonna mess wit’ it”. So we did.

We walked around some more and found the boat of our dreams in a charter fleet. We spoke to an owner of another model from the same maker who LOVES his boat, and then we walked back to Road Town to catch the ferry to Virgin Gorda. I was really thirsty and talked Michael into going to Pusser’s for a beer. It was happy hour and they made us drink two. We got to the ferry dock two minutes before it was time to board, but our bag was gone!

Michael frantically tried to find someone who could help us while I tried to stall the ferry. I spoke to one of the attendants who said that the bag may have gone to Anegada on the ferry that left 20 minutes after we left it there. Unfortunately, by the time our ferry people contacted the anegada ferry people, the ferry back had already left. The bag had no external or internal identification. And the ferries only go to Anegada 3 times each week, so the next ferry back wouldn’t be until Wednesday.

In one of the communications between the ferry services, it was determined that a bag fitting the description of our bag was indeed on Anegada and had gone unclaimed. As we approached Virgin Gorda, our ferry captain told me to speak with the receptionist at Guavaberry who would call the other ferry to get the bag back to us. We were laughing like madmen, because every single stitch of our clothing was in the other bag. The only thing we had with us was our snorkeling gear, a few toiletries and some reading material. And the next day, we were scheduled to go on an early, all-day sailing and snorkeling trip. But we didn’t have swimsuits.

Fortunately, even though we were late checking in at Guavaberry, Valerie was extremely helpful, calling all of the ferry services and eventually learning that the people who own Neptune’s Treasure on Anegada, go into Road Town every day, and would take our bag with them on Tuesday, and the bag would come to Virgin Gorda on the ferry and be in our room before we got off the charter boat. She also had a “lost-and-found” box with laundered swimsuits we could borrow. We were fortunately able to find suits to fit us, and everything ended up the way they said it would.

We got back to our room at Guavaberry, and there was our bag! Thanks to the ferry captains and employees, Valerie, the Neptune’s Treasure people (we stayed with them on Anegada a couple of years ago -great place!), and the taxi driver who brought the bag from the ferry.

Amazing!

We didn’t go sailing on the Roseway because they changed their itinerary at the last minute to take them to Jacksonville, FL. We weren’t planning on going to America again so soon (we were just there last June/July), so we opted out of the trip, which would have taken longer than going to Bermuda. I can’t leave my doggies and kitties for that long.

Ceilings have been painted and now we need to paint entire exterior and interior and tile all large porch spaces and two sets of steps to porch areas. Lots of investment. Lots of time and money investment. I’ll try to enjoy every minute of it.

Reef Jam was a success I guess. We didn’t go because we had paying work. I guess Kurt Schindler was forced to show up because he and his wife were some of the main organizers of the event. Michael went last year. I had to work.

Went to the restaurant of the bitchy owner/hostess last night because Michael got a gift certificate from one of his co-workers. Otherwise we would have dined at home. That woman cracks me up. She so obviously despises us. For what? Who knows!

We walked in and waited for someone to come and seat us. She came out of the kitchen with some dishes, set them down, looked at us, and turned around and went back. How welcoming! During the evening she went to talk to people at other tables and totally ignored us! Too funny!

The seas were calm over the week-end, so we went to Buck Island on Origami Monday. We took the ugly putt putter, because it gets us there and back faster than the kayaks, and I had to work in the afternoon. Water was murky, I guess the green muck from the Orinoco River is still with us, but I hear it’s better than it was a few weeks ago. Wreggie’s favorite fish ( a big snapper) was there at the farthest mooring buoy, as usual.

The skies have been gray and yucky and it’s been humid as Ned’s ass.

Another guy we knew committed suicide over the week-end.

Let us rejoice in singing “I BU PRO FEN!  I BU PRO FEN!……..”

After an incredibly stressful week beginning with attempting to paint the ceiling, then scrubbing the moldy porch ceiling with Michael to make sure the pressure washing would be satisfactory for the painters, moving almost every piece of furniture (not to even MENTION all the other crap inside of and surrounding it) inside and outside of the house, and moving heavy potted plants out of the way, and then back to where they belong, my body decided that it was time for a break.

So my back gave out on Friday morning (I’m such a Wreggie wanna -be). The sharp, excruciating pains did not cease not matter what yoga stretches I tried. I had 5 (yes FIVE) massages scheduled for that day, and after having spent thousands of dollars on the ceilings this week, I needed to replenish the kitty with a couple of hundred anyway.

My first massage was at a home where the client actually has his own table, so no lugging (phew!) I was still walking funny, and he, despite his 80+ years noticed (shit!) and said something. I tried to make light of it, but I knew I was in trouble. Fortunately, my 11 o’clock canceled, so I had time to get home to meet the guy who will restore my great grandfather’s oak roll-top desk (to the tune of around a grand). I had a minute or two to remove all the crap from it before shoving a bit of grub into the gullet.

But before he arrived, I remembered the Ibuprofen that I had left over from my surgeries in late ’07. Okay, the drugs are expired but I popped and 800 milligramer and I was feelin’ finer. Not 100% but maybe I’d be able to make it through the day without having to have Michael take over. Sing along now, “I BU PRO FEN!…..”

The guy took the desk, I vacuumed and washed the floor where it had been for years (it’s too heavy to move when I’m cleaning) and I took off to do two massages at a beach hotel. It was unpleasant carrying my table and a bag full of sheets, towels and massage oils. So after the first session, I popped a 200 grammer. The pain was still pretty severe, but I made it through the next one. I was not able to carry my table and bag back to the car, though and had to hobble to the car and drive it as close as possible to the stuff. I then took one item at a time.

My last stop was at a home where there are steep steps up to the main house. I popped another pill and made it up with little trouble. The rest of the day was okay, no lifting or carrying involved, but the remnnants of pain remained.

Today I cut the grass, weed whacked, grocery shopped and moved a bunch more crap around and out. Sing along now, “I BU PRO FEN!…”

I was never a beliver in drugs before the surgeries, but I am now a total convert. Bring ‘em on! I don’t have time to be down. I can rest when I’m dead!

I adore my husband. He’s brilliant and capable (and other awesome things that a husband should be ) .But he can’t create time, and there are too many projects that need to be done around here, NOW, before the house starts falling into the abyss. We talk about them and talk about how “we’ll start doing them next week”, but again, the time creation thing has us stumped.

So since it’s currently the “off season” I thought I’d catch up on a few of the projects that have been neglected because others have priority. Last week, I moved some stuff off the kitchen counters and started to paint the ceiling.

The ceilings have not been painted since the house was purchased in 2000. Every year since then, I’ve said, “We’ll paint the ceilings this year.” The ceilings are high, and they’re that awful T-1-11 crap (don’t know how to convey that exactly…..tee one eleven), which is parallel 3 inch slats with ½ inch grooves between each one. And the grooves, when they get to the walls and the structural beams, make little holes, which must be filled in with paint. The grooves must also be filled in with paint.

Anyway, it is an awful job. It took me two hours to do a small hallway and a tiny part of the kitchen. I was a mess. My back was killing me and my neck was killing me and I was covered with paint and grouchy. So I decided that I’d be much happier writing while others who are much younger and more qualified than I were painting.

So I called my old buddy, Frank. I met Frank when I first moved here and worked for a construction company. Frank left island for a while, but he’s been back and is once again in the painting business. Frank was available to look at the job just a few hours after my call. It was great to see him and his foreman, Luis.

That same day, after Frank and Luis came by, Frank called with an estimate. Michael and I nearly keeled over when we heard the numbers! It was three times what I expected! So Michael started promising me that he’d do it and blah blah blah. But I stood firm.

If Michael tried to do this, it would not be pretty. He’s still working on Land Rover engines, moving parts to proper storage containers, getting a biodiesel system together, etc. etc., and I’d rather have him doing those and other nice husbandy things, thank you very much. Besides, the grass will need to be cut now that it has started raining again.

So we spent the week-end pressure washing the porch ceilings and moving stuff around and out to get things out of the way of the painting guys. Just pressure washing one of the porches was enough work to convince Michael that it’s a good idea to spend the money to have others come in to paint.

So, they’re here now, and going like gangbusters getting the ceilings painted. They were supposed to start outside, but it’s been raining on and off all morning. I cleaned out a couple of rooms and they’ve already gone through them. Now I need to move more stuff out of the way……

So deal with it.

I absolutely REFUSED to get involved with Facebook. I have enough to do.

BUT, I was nosey about something in an “I’m trying to be helpful” kind of way, and I signed up. And only gave absolutely rudimentary information. No picture or elaborate description about myself and my life. If someone wants that, they’ll have to work harder for it.

So ugh! Now I’m getting “______ has added you to his/her friend list” notices in my e-mail box from High School and College friends. What a mistake that was!

How and why have these people suddenly decided to “reach out”? It scares me for many reasons.

First of all: There’s a really good reason I live here in St. Croix, USVI. If I’d wanted to be involved with all the people I knew in High School and College, I’d have stayed there in America and kept in touch. I feel that I have so little in common with anyone from my past that being in contact would just either piss me off or depress me. Sort of like when I speak to my father on the phone. If I want to be “in touch” with someone, I want to be able to see and touch him/her. If someone wants my attention, s/he needs to come visit. Period.

I have enough to do and enough people here, on St. Croix to admire, sympathize with and just generally give my precious energy to, that adding baggage from the past is neither necessary nor desired.

My life is full enough. I don’t need to go to reunions (I’d rather have a root canal) and Michael had to drag me kicking and screaming to one of his family’s regular “reunions” last year. It was scary enough. Thank dog I did not get an invitation to what would have been my 30th(!!) high school reunion!

I wonder about how needy others are, that they wait like vultures for someone whose name they recognize to come up. I’ve felt like I’m being pounced on. Too weird for me!

When I graduated from High School, it was like cutting a stifling umbilical cord. Although I had some great friends there and I loved school, there was a whole new world waiting for me. And I didn’t need the baggage. I remember one of my friends just sobbing pitifully.

But I was done with that stage of my life. On to the next one! C’mon let’s get going!

Once upon a time, I was a daily blogger. I sometimes even blogged multiple times in a day. I was inspired by the island of St. Croix and my life here with Michael and the dogs and cats. I loved writing about places we’d go and things we’d do.
It was a creative outlet. And it was therapeutic for me, especially after “the miscarriage”.

In the last couple of weeks I’ve been thinking about the futility of it all. Has anything I’ve spent my time blogging about made a difference?

There are still a few things I haven’t done on St. Croix, even after living here for almost 15 years. Maybe that means I don’t really want to do them. The one thing that stands out in my mind is horseback riding. Being an animal rights person, the idea of making a gentle. docile animal carry me around when I have two perfectly fine feet and legs for walking and hiking does not thrill me. So, although I love horses, I do not at this time feel the need to get involved with them.

I’m trying to think of new stuff to write about. We’ve gotten involved with politics, the arts, sports, music, and history and culture among other things. If there’s something we’ve missed, let us know, or chime in yourselves.

Anyway, we went to Buck again on our kayaks for mother’s day and had dinner at an okay restaurant. It was wonderful to spend time with my daughter and my very special hubby on a beautiful day in paradise, but I just wrote about that a couple of weeks ago.

Oh true, every detail is different, we laughed about different things this time, and saw different people, but if I were a reader of this blog, I’d be bored by….. yet another post about yet another perfect day kayaking to Buck Island.

Ooops….unboring item: Michael and Nicole brought me to Gems Direct to show me their mother’s day gifts for me. I only got to look at them because we couldn’t take them to Buck or leave them in the car while we were out there. Their thoughtful and much appreciated gifts are an absolutely lovely bouquet of roses from my sweetheart, and a magnificent moonstone and brilliant paraiba tourmaline pendant set in white and yellow gold from my amazing daughter.

Back to “blogger’s block”: I have a few subjects in “drafts”, but I haven’t been inspired to finish them since I started them.

Yes, we’re still, “Livin’ on St. Croix”, and if you haven’t been following since shortly after “the miscarriage”, there’s a lot of fun stuff in there. And again, please help yourself to a shot at blogging if you have something worthwhile to add…..

Then let your computer do it for you! We read about this in a local paper today. We couldn’t contain our mirth.

Why don’t we think of things like this? I wonder how many subscribers they have.

I especially enjoy the muslim page, where your speakers are turned toward mecca. And I thought religion couldn’t possibly get any more ridiculous!

…or is it?

I was brought up in a world where honesty was the best policy. Period. So I have a real hard time kissing up to assholes.

I guess I should just stop here.

However, once again, we have vultures trying to get a piece of what we’ve worked for over ten years (12+ to be more precise).

new concierges (I just get sooo tired of them) have recently contacted us to arrange for Massages at Villas that We have been to for Over Ten Years (see above). And they get upset when we require contact with the actual people we will actually be massaging.

Massage therapy is a very personal issue. Every person I massage is an individual with an unique body and special requirements. Michael and I treat each and every one of our clients individually. And we so appreciate the trust that each and every client places in us.

Therefore, our business does not translate well with a “concierge service”, unless that particular service actually knows us personally and can answer questions from both sides.

When will a concierge actually get a massage from us so s/he can thoroughly explain how wonderful a massage on the beach (or at a fabulous villa as opposed to in a sterile cubicle) truly is? Only Anna and Wendy at www.gotostcroix.com have, and can give people a first-hand experience. We love those Ladies!

I may lose some business,  but today, I responded to a “concierge service” with the following:

We massaged some triathletes last week, and as one of them approached the massage table he said, ‘Oh, you’re the professional ‘ass rubbers’”. To which I replied, “Absolutely! We rub ‘em, but we don’t kiss ‘em”.

The triathletes were all very happy with their massages.

Is honesty truly the best policy, or should I kiss all the asses too?

I’d just feel so dirty!

…it rained the day after the triathlon.

We massaged a few athletes out by Salt River in the morning and it sprinkled on us toward the end of the third session. As we were getting toward home, there was a nice downpour, and then a break, and then some nice steady showers.

“Cool!” I said. “If it rtains like this all night, the roads won’t wash out and the plants will be so happy and we won’t have to worry about …..” Last week as we sat at the Pickled Greek having dinner, firetrucks went by, and we could actually see the flames on the hillsides across the street from the restaurant. Too scary!

Anyway, the rain stopped for the evening. But during the night we woke to torrents and wind gusts that blew rain into our bedroom, causing me to jump out of bed to close the south facing window. The frogs started to squawk and I didn’t know if one was sandwiched between the panes.

I wonder what race director Tom Guthrie has to do to make things work out like that?