And I hope it lasts. I didn’t feel like washing the windows today. But they needed to be done. Yes, again, and I was the only one around, so I had to do them or look through crummy windows until I felt like washing them. So I decided to change my attitude about things I didn’t feel like doing.

(Aside) Remember the song “Attitude Dancing”? Was it Carly Simon? I liked that song. It was goofy, but upbeat. “Don’t be afraid to change your attitude…..Attitude dancing……”

For some reason, I always feel guilty about not getting enough done. Guilt does not make anything better, so I changed my attitude to one where I felt grateful to be healthy enough to be able to do this job. And I got the job done. And it felt good! Now I hope it lasts.

But only just a little and it might be because I’m back to work. I carried my table around to a couple of places yesterday and today. And I cleaned the house and did laundry and swept the porch and pooper scooped the front yard, as well as doing massages today. It feels good to be working again. Our cash reserves are just about gone. So, no dining out for a while. Even dining in is so expensive I might have to start fasting.

Speaking of the high cost of living down here, here’s a brilliant piece of work. Our “Waste Management Authority” has come up with a plan to deal with the over-burdened landfill issue we have here. More taxes on everything. A Daily News newspaper article gave numbers like this: food will be taxed at 7 cents/lb, clothing and shoes at 12 cents/lb., etc. People will starve if this goes into effect. I’m happy that we sell our services rather than products, but people won’t be able to afford our services with all this extra expense in their lives. The VI government….what a waste of oxygen. Just thinking about the idiots in power here makes my belly hurt more. I guess it’s time to go to bed and dream about owning our own private island….no morons allowed!

We started our Sunday morning turtle walk on Southgate Beach maybe a little earlier than usual. After all, it was the day of the Halloween Doggie Parade in town and we needed to be there at noon. After all the rain, we were surprised to see that the “river” which sometimes blocks the way between Chenay Bay Resort and the Southgate property was not that deep and we’d be able to walk across. I picked up Goliath and took a step off the 2 foot high “embankment” into the sand below. Little did I know it was like quick sand. I stepped down and sank, then, before I realized I had sunk, I tried to take another step and fell flat on my face into the water. See Little Dog fly!! I think Goliath miraculously landed on a dry spot, but I wasn’t sure because I was busy getting up and guffawing and trying to brush wet sand off myself. My flip flop was almost buried in the soft sand where I took the first step. Michael was laughing, I was laughing and soaked but we managed to rescue my sinking flip flop and made it safely the rest of the way across.

There were some people walking toward us and I wondered if they had seen my graceful dive into the soft sand and water. As we got closer to them (laughing all the way, ha ha ha), I realized it was Peter and Heike. Peter joked that they had dug up all the turtle nests so we didn’t have to. We chatted for a minute, made plans for later in the day and continued with our walk. About 2/3 of the way down the beach, Goliath went into some tall grass and sniffed around a bit more than usual. I had the feeling he might be finding hatchlings, so I went over to where he was, and, sure enough, there were some lifeless-looking baby turtles. We would not have seen them in the tall beach grass if he hadn’t gotten our attention. We thought they were dead, but when Michael picked one up, it started flapping its flippers. Altogether, there were eight hatchlings that had been pulled from the nest by a mongoose. One was dead but the others were able to swim away when Michael brought them to the water. Thanks to Goliath, the turtle saving dog :)!!!

We finished our walk and went back home for a late breakfast and to get ready for the doggie parade. It was pouring rain again. We were lucky to have had a respite from the deluges while we walked the beach earlier. Michael called Sadie’s Pet Boutique, who was sponsoring the parade to see if it would still be going on. Donna, the owner said that it would, so we headed into town with raincoats and umbrellas and Goliath with his costume. There were a handful of other dogs getting into their costumes when we arrived.

Goliath is one baaad biker dude

Fortunately, there was a covered area in the Pan Am Pavilion where we could congregate.
We really couldn’t have a “parade” because we would have gotten all wet and the costumes would have been ruined, so we just walked a short distance undercover to where the judges sat. The dogs would be competing for prizes in three categories: Cutest, Funniest, and Best Dressed. A dog in a butterfly suit named “Lola” won cutest. A pirate dog won funniest. And our very own little man was best dressed!! Yay!! What a day for Goliath! He was on a winning streak. He won a gift certificate for a piece of jewelry from a competing (gasp!) jewelry store. We’ll have to wait and see if we can use it….

I’m not quite sure if it started earlier in the week last week or what, but it just seemed like things weren’t quite right. Well, we know that mercury is retrograde, so maybe that’s it. Hopefully we can just blame things on the planets and know that they’ll get better soon.

Michael got a flat tire on the green Land Rover. Which wouldn’t have been so shocking if it weren’t for the fact that he’d just gotten 4 new tires for it. He had to wait to get it fixed because there were a bunch of things we needed to do.

I had another small surgical procedure done at the hospital on Wednesday. It required me to have a spinal anesthetic. THAT was interesting. Michael and I went in to the hospital, just like we did last month. Saw a lot of the same faces and joked that we thought they did such a nice job that we were back for more. And we’d have the usual, thanks very much. But this time was different. I didn’t need a blood transfusion (although they were ready with blood just in case) and I’d be awake during the procedure. Very scary! I hoped beyond hope that while I was in the OR I wouldn’t have to listen to the doctor calling for the different instruments. But I especially didn’t want to hear things like “ooops!”, or “uh oh!”, or “oh, no!” Fortunately I was drugged and sleepy and mainly heard Dr. Dawaskiba, the anesthesiologist checking in with me every so often. There was a new nurse prepping me and we talked a little while we waited for my doctor to arrive. Pat, the nurse said, “He’ll be here soon, I’m sure.” I nodded politely, smiled awkwardly, and replied, “He’s a woman.” Ooops! She was embarrassed, but she’s new to STX, so you really couldn’t fault her.

The anesthesiologist, Dr. D, as he’s affectionately called by the OR staff, gave me my spinal when I arrived in the OR. It really is scary in there. Lots of tile and bright lights and gleaming silver instruments all lined up. Anyway, he poked me in the back with a needle and had trouble finding fluid. So he poked some more. Not comfortable. But he’s so sweet. Always saying, “I’m sorry”, “Sorry”, and “Thank you”, with his Polish accent. When he put my IV in before I went into the OR, he was VERY apologetic (it hurt more than last time, and I’m still bruised from it). But he’s so sweet; you just can’t get upset even, with all the poking. And I had Pat to talk to, and my doctor, while we all waited, (me very uncomfortably poised) for him to find the right spot. He asked me if I’d been drinking enough water or if I’d been dieting. I said that I’d been eating everything in sight until the day before when they had me fast before the surgery. And of course I couldn’t drink anything after 3 am. So since he couldn’t find any cerebro-spinal fluid between those vertebrae, he decided to check the next space up. (Resumes poking a needle into my back as I try not to squirm)….Eureka! There it was! My legs and feet became warmer, and then they became VERY heavy. I had no more control over them. They moved me onto the operating table and started working. I had lots of pillows and warm sheets to keep me comfortable.

I actually remember the recovery room this time. Michael was there with me, of course, for the hours it would take for me to be able to stand and walk again. I tried wiggling my toes to no avail. The nurses would come in frequently to check my BP and vital signs and ask about my toes. I started flexing my quads. Dr. D had told me that the feeling would return starting from the waist and moving down to the feet and toes. I thought I was doing great flexing my quads. The nurses agreed. Then I flexed my ankle. Right side first. Left side took longer. Then I raised my knees and tried to put pressure into the bed with my feet, since I knew I’d have to walk soon. Michael went to pick up my painkillers at the pharmacy and to get some lunch. I wanted KFC biscuits. I NEVER eat stuff like that, but I figured they wouldn’t upset my stomach, all bland and stuff. Comfort food.

I kept on flexing and moving what I could as much as possible. Then they made me try to go to the bathroom. My one hurdle to jump over before I could leave – I had to pee. So they wheeled me over to the restroom and sat me down. I couldn’t feel the toilet seat under my butt and I couldn’t pee. I tried. I sat there for a long time thinking about waterfalls and dripping faucets, but it wasn’t happening. So I went back to my bed and ate my biscuits. Seated and dangling my legs to try to get more feeling back into them. Soon the nurses returned to get me to try to pee again. Again I sat for a long, long time. Nothing. Went back and one of the nurses said, “We’re not trying to rush you or anything, we’re not going anywhere, and we don’t want to have to catheterize you.” So I relaxed for about 30 seconds and then they were back, and they WERE rushing me. I was again wheeled over to the little room. This time…..success. I couldn’t feel myself peeing, but there was the tell-tale tinkling sound. And yellow water. This time I was able to get up and wash my hands and even open the door to let them know I had succeeded in my important mission. I didn’t flush the evidence down though. And they let me go home.

I felt great. But on the way home I became nauseous. They had given me percoset before I left. I vomited a little while waiting in the car for Michael to pick up the mail in Gallows Bay. After that I was fine. The next day (Thursday), I took more percoset and vomited some more. A LOT more. Okay, no more of that. The pain was not awful anyway. I felt better without it. Until Friday. I went to work on a client who has his own table, so I didn’t have to carry anything. I felt fine. Until we stopped at the Pickled Greek. There were lots of people there doing lots of things. My head started hurting. We had a gazillion errands to do, so we started from there. I thought my head was going to explode. I had never had a migraine before and thought I might be having one. But why? And the pain kept moving around inside my head.

Maybe it was a sinus headache. But it moved around some more. I could not sit up in the Rover. Michael drove around to all the places we needed to go to (cat food at one place, dog food at another, on to the vet’s for Ajax’s Zubrin, then to the flea market for Rocky Horror costumes, then Uniform City, Patrick’s for Michael’s watch and then I think we finally went home). I had to lie sideways on the front seat for the whole trip, and as awkward as it looked and felt, it was better than sitting up.

We got home and I looked in one of my books for advice on headaches. It described 50 thousand different types of headaches. Mine did not fit any description. I only felt better lying down sometimes. It lasted for the rest of the day. I thought I’d feel better on Saturday. We got up and had breakfast. I felt okay. After that, the headache came back. Michael went to feed our neighbor’s cats (he was in Miami for the week-end) and saw his electric chainsaw. Michael got the idea that we should use a nice small chainsaw like that to take care of the trees that I had been calling Cheech about for weeks. He called the rental store and they only had gas powered ones, but the garden shop had electric ones for sale. He called them and found out they had them for only $149.00. He was sold. Went down and got one and got the dumpster company to deliver a HUGE dumpster which we could have for 3 days to fill with tree trimmings. I couldn’t help. My head was still killing me. Most of Saturday I stayed in bed, fuming because the rest of my body that had been cut open and stitched back together was feeling fine, but my head felt like it was going to burst. At one point, I checked the internet and discovered that there is such a thing as a “post-dural puncture headache,” which fit the description of mine. Unfortunately, sometimes they last for YEARS!!! But mostly 1-12 days. That was still too much. I rested a little easier knowing what caused the headaches, but hoped I wouldn’t be incapacitated much longer, certainly not for years!!! Rocky Horror was that night. I couldn’t help Michael outside, but I could get Goliath’s costume together. I did and he looked great. I was able to cook a little dinner before we all got dressed to go to the Rocky Horror Picture Show again.

I was able to sit through around 2/3 of it before having to go recline in the car (not very comfortable, but just being a bit more horizontal helped). After the movie, Michael came out to check on me. I didn’t think I could make it through the costume contest which we were all entered into. I was Janet, Michael was Brad and Goliath was Eddie (the Meatloaf character with the leather jacket, motorcycle helmet and goggles). I told Michael and Biggie to go in and win for Mommy. They did. Each of them got some nice loot and said I would have too, because there was only one other Janet and she didn’t look as good as I did. Oh, well. But cool! Michael’s Rocky Horror winning streak remains intact!

And then, the blog stopped working. Michael had done some work on it Thursday night. Then, for some reason, it started screwing up. The server is making upgrades and our stuff is a mess. Michael didn’t have time over the week-end to do anything since we were busy with trees and the dumpster.

But he finally, on Tuesday or Wednesday, got through to someone at “the blog server who shall remain nameless” who could help and was told that our situation would become a higher priority on their list now that he explained what had been going on to the right person. We’ll see…..

After much stress and duress on my part, the blog server who shall remain nameless has gotten us back on line. But right now, I have to get to work! I should be able to write this afternoon. There’s so much to catch up on…..

Mary is one of my favorite island people. I know, I say that about a lot of island people. So, why can’t they all be one of my favorites? It’s a small island. And I don’t like everyone who lives here. But those that I like are special, so they can be among my favorites, right? Anyway, Mary just turned 75. I hope I get to be 75 and am in as good shape as Mary is. She has been an inspiration to me since I met her around 5 years ago.

Mary owns her own home, has three adorable dogs and is very active. She works in her yard and cleans her house and runs a thousand errands every day. She goes to the gym a few times a week and even though she’s “retired”, has recently taken a job managing an apartment complex. Mary is a self-made woman who has worked hard all her life in various capacities, most recently, real estate. She still does appraisals every now and then, too.

When I first met Mary, she was a pretty heavy smoker. She tells me stories about how she quit when she was pregnant with her son, but shortly after she went into labor, she started up again. She looks back and can’t believe that she was in her hospital bed, smoking cigarettes with her husband. They had ashtrays in hospital rooms! Anyway, a couple of years ago she quit cold turkey (and cigarettes, too).

She’s up before 5 every morning so she can go outside to do yard work before it gets too hot. She adores animals and takes better care of her dogs than many people take care of their kids. She’s always offering to help people with whatever they need. She’s travelled extensively and loves opera. She says she hates to cook, but is always having folks over for brunch on Sundays.

And she’s recently started juicing. I was eyeing her Champion Juicer about 6 months ago and asked her if she wanted to sell it. I had one in the states when I was running my natural food store and used it every day (much to the chagrin of the girls who were “forced” to endure a shot of carrot-whatever before going to school each day). I loved my juicer, but sold it when I thought I’d become a slave to it. Anyway, Mary thought she might start using it again some day, so I was on my own. I bought another one and use it frequently, but not obsessively. So Mary’s juicing now too. She says she doesn’t like to eat veggies, so she’d prefer to drink them. She’ll probably live to be at least 100. I hope so. She’s a great lady.

Most mornings when we get up, it looks as though someone has been moving our loveseats around. Probviously (this is a word I made up – add it to your computer’s accepted vocabulary list) because someone has. Emmy has. She has progressed from moving shoes (flip flops, actually) around to chewing them up. And now she moves furniture, too. At least she hasn’t started chewing on it yet. We bought her a toy so she doesn’t have to chew on our stuff. So far it has worked. We’ll keep our fingers crossed (and try to remember to put our shoes away). She seems to like her toy a lot. It’s actually three toys in one. In Christmas colors. It’s supposed to be for dogs who like to tear things. It’s shaped like a snowman with Velcro connecting the segments. It doesn’t really stay together very well, so we have three pieces of it hanging around, which is okay, since she’s more likely to find a piece and chew on it if they are scattered about.

Anyway, she’s sooo cute. When we come home from somewhere and she’s been in the house, she comes to the door with a piece of her toy in her mouth, wagging her tail with that “Look what I’ve got!” look in her eyes. She’s less cute if she has one of our things in her mouth, but she’s still cute. And I guess she tries to scratch her nose or ears by rubbing against the furniture and, since it’s wicker and pretty light, it moves all over the place. Good thing there’s a rug there otherwise she’d be able to slide it farther from where we’ve decided it belongs and we’d probably trip in it in the dark.

I keep trying to think of some useful outlet for that energy. Maybe next year she can push the baby in a swing. That would be cool as long as she didn’t push the whole swing assembly :).

Tuesday, I wrote short letters to our local senators. It wasn’t a big project, and I used to do A LOT of stuff like that, but it was not all that pleasant. There are so many things I’d like to spout off at them for, but I had to hold my tongue (more like fingers, I guess) and stick to the issue at hand, which was voting to confirm the Governor’s nominee for Commissioner of Education. Now, it’s done for what it’s worth. I did my share. We know they will get a lot of input on this topic, as there are campaigns out there on both sides of the issue. It’ll be interesting to see what happens.

I also (finally) printed out letters to the Ministers of Tourism on Dominica and St. Lucia, letting them know that Michael and I were looking for a vacation destination and chose NOT to go to either of these places because of their governments’ policies on whaling. The governments of both of these islands have accepted monies from Japan to build “fisheries”. They have agreed, in turn to support Japan in its defense of ending the 20 year moratorium on commercial whaling. Whaling is unnecessary in this day of synthetics and especially with all our recycling possibilities. Japan is also causing a shortage of fish throughout the Caribbean by using huge nets off many of the islands to catch larger numbers of tuna and things that our smaller fisherman have a hard time getting now because of this. It’s maddening and I don’t like to think about it. But I’ve written my letters and mailed them off. And I will do more if necessary.

But before doing all that, I went to “Public Safety” to get my diver’s license renewed, It expired on my birthday in February and I didn’t know it. So it cost me $85 to do it. But at least I didn’t have to retake any of the tests :).

After all that I went to the radiology lab to have tests repeated because the doctors got the wrong angle on an ultrasound I had last week. I had to call ahead to let them know I was on my way, but I still had to wait 45 minutes when I got there. How much more fun can I have?

Saturday morning we went for a longish hike with SEA (St. Croix Environmental Association) at their Southgate Nature Preserve. It was a very informative hike led by Carol Cramer-Burke and Rudy O’Reilly. These two are tree experts and the plan was to show people some native trees and shrubs that are aesthetically pleasing and will attract wildlife to your yard. We saw many beautiful plant species, many familiar, but also lots that we hadn’t really noticed or known about. And it’s amazing how many of these plants could not only live in the very sandy areas they were in, but also in different inland soils.
Fascinating!

Anyway, later in the day after lunch and Michael playing with cars (he got pretty frustrated at one point and had to take a break – and I actually gave him a massage during this break), we had to drive into town to get our haircuts. We both go to Karen at Jacques Image Studio on Queen Cross Street in the Apothecary Hall Building. As we were driving into town, just past the last (or first, depending on which direction you’re going in) entrance to Gallows Bay, there was the most hideous, horrendous odor. It smelled like there was a dumpster FULL of dog poo somewhere in the vicinity. It was awful, it was disgusting, Blechhhhhh! When we finally turned the corner onto Company Street, it went away.

While we were getting our hair cut, Karen invited us to join her with a group of friends for dinner at the Chinese restaurant at Five Corners. It would be their last night of serving St. Croix. Because the husband’s back was so bad, he would not be able to work any longer and they were moving back to China. Well, that was a bummer, because we really liked that place, and it really sucked about his back being so bad. We decided to go and hang out with Karen and Margi and Fran and Peter and Carol and whoever else would show up and enjoy another “last supper”. Karen said she’d be there around 5:30 and that we needed to get there so early while there was still food. Our haircuts were done at around 4 and we wanted to go to “Sadie’s Pet Boutique” to see what kind of Halloween costume we’d get Goliath this year. So we checked out the goods, Goliath tried on a couple of items (CUTE!!) and we rushed home to feed the other dogs.

As we were leaving town the stench was still there. Michael seemed to think it was coming from that new Mexican/Cuban restaurant. He said it smelled to him like it had some sort of spicy aroma. Well, I like spicy food, but not spicy shit, so I wouldn’t be eating there anytime soon if that was the case. Uchhhhhh!

We fed dogs and went back out. Fortunately the smell had pretty much dissipated by then, and we were able to enjoy the ride. We got there first and there was a large round table for ten reserved for Karen and Company. We feasted on chicken and veggies and tofu and eggplant and rice and noodles with hot tea that was actually hot. Huge plates of food kept coming out of the kitchen. People started finishing their meals. But Michael and I kept going. We ate and ate, and ate some more. It was delicious! Even though, I still had room, I eventually stopped. Other people wanted to get on to dessert. Karen brought a bunch of sweets. Chocolates and cookies and cool Vietnamese candies made from fruit and rice. Mmmmm! It was a great time. We left after a while longer and went home to rest after all that eating. It wasn’t late, but we’d had a pretty long day, so we went to bed early.

A few hours later, I woke to the sounds of Michael being sick in the bathroom. I guess the spicy food was too much for his system. We both ate the same things and he was un-fortunate enough to get sick (although Karen kept saying she would be sick from the spicy food since she’d come to dinner without some sort of medicine to help her digest it). I wondered if she actually did. Anyway, Michael got rid of everything he ate there over the course of an hour or so. Then he fell back asleep. Not me though, it took at least two hours for me to get back to la la land and then I had a really weird dream. I’ve been having strange dreams lately for some reason. It’s kind of a fun thing to look forward to…sleep….what will my subconscious come up with next? Goodnight!

It’s just not my favorite thing. Of course, when I was a teen-ager THAT’S a different story. I look at myself now and compare what I am with what I was. Oh man. It’s not even close by a long shot. My lifestyle is totally different from what I looked forward to in those days. I wonder if a lot of people are like this, or if many people actually stick with what they wanted at that age and still want the same things now.

When I was a teen-ager, I dreamed of living in one of those white picket fence houses. It would have two floors, the bedrooms upstairs and the living areas on the main floor. Most importantly, this house would have more than one bathroom. I grew up in a house with only one bathroom and I remember just about gagging every morning when I went in after my father. It was like entering a cave full of toxic fumes. He would spend a pretty good amount of time in there, so he’d have to have at least one cigarette. It’s amazing I survived. No wonder I was not a breakfast eater. Of course, my father stopped smoking AFTER I moved out of the house. As did most of the relatives we used to have holiday dinners with. At Christmas, you’d walk in from that crisp, fresh outdoor air, into a tar and nicotine fog.

During one stage of my life I had the picket fenced, two story house. So, what did that prove? I was in my early twenties and I’d accomplished everything I‘d wanted to. Except that I didn’t have a teaching job. There were no jobs available in my town at the time and I didn’t want to have to commute to the city. Nikki was still little, so I worked at various part time jobs to get myself out of the house and to contribute to the household finances.

Then I went to see “The Animals Film” and it changed my life. It was the beginning of the end of my typical American lifestyle.

Boy, have I ever digressed. Anyway, back to talking on the phone and why I hate it so much. I don’t know. I have no problem calling some for a good reason. I’ll call the tree guy to try to get him to come. I’ll call the realtor about a property I want to buy. I’ll call a friend or relative on his/her birthday. And I do enjoy returning clients’ calls about massage appointments. But sitting with that thing attached to my ear listening to someone gab on about something I couldn’t care less about while I could be doing something just messes with me. Maybe it’s because I’m usually doing something, and I hate to be trapped next to the phone base if I need to get something outside or on the other side of the house. Maybe it’s because some people only call when they want something from me. And I hate cell phones even more, because I have trouble hearing on them most of the time and the conversation consists of me saying things like, “What?” or “Hunh?” or “Excuse me I didn’t quite get that.”

Anyway, the answering machine is the greatest invention ever. I can screen my calls. If it’s someone I don’t want to talk to right then, I can just put it off. If it’s something important, or someone I do want to talk to, I can say, “Oh, I was outside putting clothes on the line (or I was out watering plants) and couldn’t get in before the machine picked up”.

It’s probably just me, though, because mostly everyone I know spends lots of time on the phone. But if I’m going to listen to someone talk, I’d just rather do it in person. We spend a lot of time socializing with our friends and I love that. I guess I’m just weird about the phone thing…..

Try to get someone to work for you. I have been wanting to have the deck around the pool extended for a couple of years now. And a sliding glass door installed. I called Jerry. Jerry’s not a young guy, but he still wants to work. In fact, three years ago, he installed a bunch of windows for me. He did a great job, and his price was affordable. Anyway, I called him about the latest project. He came over to see the job. Well, he does want to work, but not that hard. Besides a lot of older ladies need Jerry to do stuff around their houses. Easy, maintenance-type work. I can understand that. I’d want the easy stuff, too. After being rejected by Jerry, everyone else I called is too busy. And then there was Jay. He was interested in helping us with this after the Pickled Greek was finished. I was thrilled. There was a God. But then Jay died. I guess God had trouble finding good help too, so he wanted Jay. But really, what an unfair advantage.

So, those projects are on hold until I find someone who wants to work. Then there are the trees. Our trees are in bad shape. A couple of weeks ago, I called Cheech, the tree doctor.
He said he’d come on Friday afternoon. I didn’t hear from him by two thirty. I called to remind him. He wasn’t answering the phone. When he finally did, he said he had to pay his guys, since it was Friday, then he’d call me. He never did. I try calling sometimes and his voicemail box is full, so I can’t even leave a message. Yesterday, I got ahold of him. He said he’d finish work around 4:30 and come over after that. Never showed, never called.

Today, I had an appointment with a doctor at 11:00. She was off-island earlier in the week, and would meet with me at that time. I got there and she was not around. Her husband was running the juice bar at her health center and he said she missed her flight from St. Thomas last night. He seemed to pretend to call her cell phone and according to him, she was not answering. She might be en route. I asked if he could leave a voicemail. He appeared to try but still could not get through. Mind you his attempts were very half-hearted and his attitude seemed defeated before he began. This is a guy running a “Health Food Restaurant”. He has NO energy and looks pale and emaciated. Not good advertisement for the stuff he’s selling. So, no doctor, no answers, I had to come home.

Michael and I sat down for lunch at 12:50 and then the doctor called. She thought she had scheduled me for 1:00 and would be able to make it in time. She asked if I could still come in and I said “Sure, but not until 2:00.” She said that was fine. So I was able to get something done, although in a convoluted islandy way.

Life in Paradise. I just want to get back to work. I wish the tree guy would, too.

I thought I’d like to surprise my husband, so I showed up on the side of the road around the bend from his massage appointment with my client (okay, I guess she’s OUR client now). He came down the hill and stopped in the road next to me. “HI!” we both said. “I thought I’d surprise you and see if you wanted to go have a drink at H2O or something”.
He thought that sounded nice, so off we went. We’re so happy that they’re open again. So’s Elizabeth’s at the Palms (or at least A restaurant has re-opened at The Palms). Those are two great spots to sit and watch the water.

We chose H2O. It feels a little less formal since you don’t have to go through the hotel lobby to get to the beach or bar/restaurant. I had a glass of Monkey Bay Sauvignon Blanc (We love that on Friday nights with all-you-can-eat Alaskan King Crab…Mmmmm) and MD had his usual fat Papi. They were short glasses, so he had two. But it was Happy Hour, so they were cheap. We talked about our new business venture and watched the water (well, he did, since he was facing that direction). There were actually a couple of surfers out there. But not a breath of air. The water was very flat, but I guess they were able to catch some wave action. Cool!

When we started getting devoured by minges, we decided to head into town for sushi at the deck bar. There were a BUNCH of people at the deck bar, but not really anybody eating. They were standing around having beers after work. We started talking to Dawn Vreeland, who, with her husband, Kent, own three vacation villas here on STX. Caribbean Dream is out east, Villa Dawn is at Cane Bay and they also have a condo at Gentle Winds.

Then, who else should show up, but, Marvela and Ze Pookinater ! Gosh, we hadn’t seen them since hmmmm, oh, Saturday, at their new place (which is Laurie’s old place).

And, who else was there…..let’s see…..Ed and Molly from SCUBA, Captain Big Beard, Todd and Sara (with Baby Jordan), Kim Woody is back for a fish research project. Besides that, we got to talk to Barbara, the mural artist and her husband, Michael. It was great to see Barbara again. I thought she’d left island years ago. But I guess she stopped working for a while when she got married and had their baby.

Anyway, after we finished eating and gabbing with them and it was time for Maggie to close the bar, we went with Carsten and Amanda to upstairs at Stixx. They’ve re-opened, too. Yay!! We had a couple more beverages there (right, we were STILL thirsty), and then headed home. But it was fun to see all those friends in town on a Tuesday night!!

I was driving by “Times Square” or “Sunday Market Square” yesterday and read on one of the marquee signs that said Saturday, October 6, was the big day. I wonder if they do this in other places. Here, people come from all over the island, with their companion animals in tow. They go to the Catholic church and the priest “blesses” the furrier of them. The people pay a fee, in effect buying protection for their critter(s). I guess if you believe in that kind of thing it’s pretty neat. People do it for themselves when they go to church, right? A person walks in, after a while, the church people ask for some money, you get blessings and you’re good to go.

They have the “Blessing of the Pets” every year. I guess it’s a fundraiser for the school. It must be, since a former client of mine and member of the school’s board of directors would always promote it and attend with a few of her dogs even though she’s Jewish. I wonder how much it costs, this “holy pet insurance”. It’s a year’s worth of coverage, so it must be a lot. More than people have to pay when they go to church and get just a week’s worth of coverage for themselves. Unless pets only get partial coverage or if their smaller, they don’t need as much. Maybe they charge by the pound. That would make more sense, I guess.

Anyway, it’s an interesting concept and I guess it’s comforting for believers to think that this priest is making sure God is paying attention to their fuzzballs. I was talking to Michael about it the other day, saying we should have our pets “cursed” rather than blessed, since they’re such a pain in the butt sometimes (especially Bubba). Michael thought we should have him exorcised.
It’s true. That dog really seems to be possessed by something evil. I wonder how much a priest would charge for that……

That’s right, someone has to take the brunt of it. Fortunately, it’s no one who reads my blog. But she may hear about this from those who do. Oh, well. See, this site is here to enable people to read about life on the island of St. Croix. And I will relate to you something upsetting to me that happened here on St. Croix. Not recently, but it festers, and since I’m grouchy today, I need to re-open this wound and let the pus out.

It must have been March 25th (interesting). Since it was the last Sunday of the month, our friend, Kurt Schindler, must have been playing at “the pig bar”. Michael’s parents were visiting. We went to “norma’s” to listen to Kurt. Goliath came with us, as he usually does, since he is a Registered Service Animal. We have cards to prove Goliath’s value in this area. Just as people have “Seeing Eye Dogs” (Service Animals), we have Goliath. And, according to the “Americans with Disabilities Act”, he may accompany me anywhere I go in public. It does NOT matter whether my “disability” is visible or not. Also, people really, according to the “Americans with Disabilities Act” do NOT have the right to question my disability. Or to stop Goliath from being with me in any public place.

Unfortunately, norma decided to not allow Goliath in her bar that night. Her large employee (funny how everyone calls it the “pig bar”) looked at his registration card and said to norma (who also has this look about her), “Oh, it’s another ’service animal’”. They proceeded to tell us that Goliath was still not welcome. Since the place was packed and my in-laws were there, I decided not to make a scene (I guess I should have had more to drink, then I probably would have. But I was not about to enrich her bar any more. Like she needs my money anyway). To add insult to injury, we were told, that after we’d left, she let another dog in. Just a regular dog! Can you say, “Discrimination“?! Goliath and I were discriminated against because norma and her employee did not feel like dealing with this issue.

So I fumed. And did nothing at the time. It was still our busy season, we were dealing with Michael’s parents, and right after they left, we discovered I was pregnant, and it was a “high risk pregnancy”, and so on….But now I do really need to contact the federal authorities about this major breach. I never liked the place anyway. What a rip-off tourist trap! When you take the “island tour”, the taxi drivers automatically take you here. norma then sells you a non-alcoholic beer that you also pay to feed to her pigs. It’s a triple rip-off. And if you look at the horrible conditions these pigs are forced to live in…..

Okay, I’m recovering very well from the surgery. I’ve been taking it really easy. Today makes three weeks since the big event. The first time I got on the scale after getting home, it said 128! AAAGGGHHH!!! But I was all swollen and stuff, so I could deal with that. Now when I get on the scale it says 110 or 112 or so. Cool. I haven’t weighed that little in many moons. But not really cool, because my skin is now too big for me.

It hangs off my body. I look like an old person. Okay, I was just getting used to being “middle aged” but now I’m already old! Yuck! I guess the lower weight is a result of loss of muscle tone. I haven’t really been doing much. Besides atrophying. Now my skin is too big for me. I was sitting by the pool yesterday and I looked at my thighs. It was disgusting. They looked like they belonged on someone in their 70’s or 80’s. The skin was wrinkled and baggy. It can’t belong to MY body. Even the skin on my arms looks terrible. Saggy.

Of course it did get stretched out a bit with the pregnancy and then the post-surgery swelling.
My thighs were huge then AND saggy (the middle aged thing). I felt like a whale. But now I need help. There has to be a magic cream or pill (come on this is 2007!) to increase the elasticity in my skin? Surely I don’t have to “bulk up” to be able to fit into it again? I like being this weight. I feel like I’m more energetic not having to carry all that extra around.

This is really depressing. I’ve been depressed for three days. I’m not happy with the skin I’m in!
Maybe I need to start working with light weights to get the muscle tone back. I guess I’ll have to give it a try. It would be nice if I could stay disciplined and keep it up until I can start massaging and carrying buckets of water around again. I’ll give it a try…..

Friday night, we decided to go to a social event at the Yacht Club. In the last 6 months or so, we been to the Yacht Club many times, but just to get on a boat and take off into the blue.
I think the last time we were there for a social event was when we sponsored Peter for membership. He was accepted (scary!). So, when the club has one of its quarterly “Membership Sunday” breakfasts, sponors attend with their new member to introduce him/her to the officers and other members. When we went with Peter, he knew more people than we did.

Anyway, we get e-mails from the club announcing the menu for the Wednesday night dinners and other special events. (A couple of weeks ago, they FINALLY had the perfect menu for the Wednesday night dinner - a nice seafood entree, but that, of course, was when I was in the hospital).This “maritime mixer ” was a cocKtail party with hors d’oeuvre and Friday night happy hour prices on drinks. We still had 20 something dollars left on a “chit” for beverages and there’d be no entry fee, so seeing that our fun money saved from the busy season has been dwindling dangerously, we decided to go. We’d be able to eat enough snacky foods to count as dinner, plus we’d get to talk to friends we hadn’t seen in a while.

There was pizza, spinach dip with pita bread wedges, finger sandwiches, deviled eggs (my favorite), pulled pork and rolls and “chicken chili” with mini corn muffins. The things I tried were quite edible. When Michael went back for seconds, he got some of the chili and gave me a taste. It was very soupy and tasted like my great aunt’s split pea soup, not at all like chili. But it was delicious. I should have gotten a cup, but instead went back for more spinach dip and mini muffins. We also drank our way completely through our chit. We’ll get another when the dough starts coming back in.

We had a chance to talk to a few of our friends. Frankie and Norma Jean were there as were Chris and Bob, Margo and Bob, Chris and Debbie, Allan and Terry, etc. etc. It was nice to see them and have a chance to catch up a bit on what folks have been doing. It was also great to have Llewellyn playing and not to have a million snowbirds clogging up the club. In the next few weeks, they’ll start flocking down and, although we appreciate their addition to the local economy, sometimes they get in the way. We might be too busy working then to hang out at the club anyway.

We went to the dentist yesterday. Gil Ross is our dentist. Gil is one of the few people I’ve known on island for about as long as I’ve been here (13 years). During our first few months here, Pointe Dance Academy put on their second production of The Nutcracker Suite Ballet. In those days it was at Island Center. I love watching shows at Island Center. It’s an open-air theater with plenty of seating and a very large stage. Unfortunately, IC has had some problems with things such as a leaky roof which has allowed rain to fall onto the stage, also affecting the floor. And even though the dance school has their own floor covering that they roll out on stage for performances, a floor with dips and pits became dangerous for the dancers to perform on, especially on pointe. So now each year, the performances are at the Good Hope School’s Savage Theater (not really as barbaric as it sounds, but still not as nice as IC). Anyway, Gil’s daughter, Vallee, was a dancer with PDA, as was my Nikki (who still is). Vallee lives in Houston now. So anyway, we were involved in getting the production together. Gill was stage manager (and still masochistically agrees to do it to this day) and I was part of stage set-up crew and one of the backstage Mothers.

It had been at least a couple of years since we had been to see Gil in his professional capacity.
And many moons since we socialized. I have always had good teeth, but I know Michael sometimes needs help with his. I went first and asked Gil about his trip to Nice for his wife, Roberta’s birthday a few months ago. So he proceeded to relate many details of their visit. They had a great time and I was glad he told me all about the trip before putting that vaccum thing in my wide open yap, so I could ask questions and say more than just uh-huh, grunt, snicker, slurp, spit….. Anyway, we we finally got down to the nitty gritty, some teeth that I thought had cavities in them just turned out to have calcification, so he scraped it off and “Look Ma! No cavities!”

Then it was Michael’s turn. His turn took less time because he didn’t get the tour de France, but when Gil came out, he said that Michael would be lighter when he emerged. Apparently he had lots of buid-up, but Dr. Dentist took care of that! Michael said he wanted “clear broth” for his meals for the rest of the day. I guess his session was pretty ouchy.

But, on the way home we stopped at Princesse Fish Market. Maybe we could get some tilapia today! This was the first time we’d been in there since David McMurray took over Romi’s operation in the spring. He had frozen tilapia, but it WAS from UVI, so we got some. We also bought some tuna for Michael to cook up for lunch when we got home. Cool! No clear broth!

We picked up a 35 lb bag of dog food at Superior Pet Supplies while we were in Princesse and headed to Schooner Bay to get veggies and wasabi. There were three choices of wasabi. The powdered one, which we’ve gotten before and two already prepared varieties. One looked greener than the other, but both had all sorts of preservatives and crap, so we stuck with our familiar powdered version. You just mix it with water and choose your preferred consistency. Mmmm!!

Then home! Michael is a better cook than I when it comes to fish, especially tuna, so he was put in charge of that project. It was yummy, too! Good job, MD!!

I guess I got bummed out by the fact that my important blog topic of the other day got “lost” by the blog script site that shall not be named, so I didn’t blog yesterday. We got busy too, with our next business venture research, and then I had to rest. Hence, no blog entry.

I was tired, partly due to my island travels (travails?) Michael was able to leave the red car with me so I could pretend to be a normal person and drive around doing errands that needed to be done. You know, we needed cat food and bagels and english muffins and eggs and a few more groceries. So I decided this would be the day for me to check out the UVI (University of the Virgin Islands) store where their Agriculture Department sells some of the tilapia and lettuces that they grow on campus.

I had read in the paper a couple of weeks ago about how to get there and thought I could figure it out. WRONG! I could have sworn the directions I read said “…take the road to the right…” and something about feeling like you’re going to get lost in the banana fields, so I took the only road that went to the right. It took me to the physical plant. Wrong plant. It wasn’t even green. No lettuces or bananas in sight.

Hmmm, okay, maybe it was left instead of right (either the newspaper or the directionally challenged writer of the article could have made a mistake). So I retraced my tire tracks and actually went to the “information kiosk”, where the map indicated that “left” was the proper direction. It showed the paved roads and then what looked like dirt roads going to a compound where the “Agricultural Experimentation Station” was located. It even showed the “AES farmer’s market”. That was it!!

Keep left was the theme here. Go beyond the parking lot and take the unpaved road to the building inside the fenced compound which housed the farm store. Once off the pavement, there was grass and mud that had been driven on, but it didn’t resemble any “dirt road” I had ever seen. And, there were tire tracks in the grass coming from and going into all directions. VERY confusing. I did not want to get stuck in the mud on my first big outing since the surgery, so I went slowly. When I finally got to an open gate, the signs said “Authorized Personnel Only”. Not very inviting if they wanted to sell their fish and veggies. So I gave up. Sort of. I knew we’d see Michelle Peterson (our friend and fellow Land Rover driver who teaches at UVI) that night at Luncheria, so I figured I’d just ask her for next time. But in the meantime, on my way back from Annaly Farms, I’d check East Airport Road to see if there was an entrance on that side of the University property.

On to Annaly Farms. I’d been wanting to check out their “local beef” (grass-fed and free-range)and “chemical free” poultry products for a while, and now, I have time. Years ago, I went into their store and was not impressed. All I saw were frozen products. Bulk packs of veggies (corn and peas, peas and carrots, etc). It hadn’t changed much. You have to ask one or more of the many people who stand around a lot waiting for something to do. They’re not about to ask YOU if THEY can help you. Then, they might actually have to MOOOVE :)! So I asked the young man behind the ice-cream-type freezer about their local beef. He said they only had a couple of different items on the board, one of them was ground beef, so I said, “I’ll take two pounds”. So he went to get it for me. He put a plastic bag with to frozen solid chunks of red stuff down on the counter and I asked about what else they had. The butcher, who’d been busy (or hiding) behind a wall with an open window chimed in at that point with what was available. Having not ordered meat in over twenty five years, I looked at the prices and ordered two of the most expensive things thinking that they must be better (i.e. more tender) cuts and I’d be better able to palate them.

Then I remembered the chicken, sans chemicals and asked for some of that. They had whole chicken and wings in the display case. Not really what I was looking for. Then someone mentioned the skinless, boneless thighs. Okay, Michael prefers darker moister poultry meat, so I got a pacakge of that as well. 2 lbs burger, 2 rib steaks and 2 porterhouse steaks and a package of chemical free chicken parts for $26. I didn’t think that was too bad. But, I know nothing about the cost of meat. All I know is, it’s cheaper than eating out. And since I haven’t really worked in weeks, our funds are starting to really dwindle.

I put the stuff in the cooler I had brought since I knew I’d be making more time-consuming stops before getting to our fridge/freezer. On the way back, I tried airport road for the UVI farm stand and just got close to the “USDA Germplasm Research Facility”. Still not what I wanted. I could see the banana fields, I just couldn’t get there. I’d ask Michelle.

On to Plaza Extra where I “picked up a few things” and parted with $197.00!!! Ouch!! That was an all-time record. I don’t understand how people can survive on the meager wages some supposedly “good jobs” offer. It’s shocking! I do NOT buy snack foods or cookies or frozen dinners or junk like that, but I guess I DO pay more, since I buy organic eggs at $5/doz and organic whole grain pastas and such, so, it’s not that horrible I guess. And again, it’s certainly cheaper than going to any restaurant. In any case, it’ll be so much easier when I get my body back to normal (no anemia) strength so I don’t have to eat dead cows any more.

Some friends of ours have a boat by that name. But it pertains, right now to what happened to my blog post of yesterday.

It was raining. It started raining Monday. We needed rain. My blog post was written just before I was about to leave for a meeting. It was not only raining, it was stormy. Winds gusting, thunder and lightening. The dogs huddled by the door wanting to come in. But I had to get to this meeting. I wrote about expecting rain last week and not getting any. It wasn’t a long, complicated, extensive story. But I typed it out and checked my spelling and then clicked on “Publish” and poof!, it was gone. I got the dreaded Wordpress error page. It has happened to me a couple of times before, and it’s why, when I’m writing a long, complicated story, I “save and continue editing” it occasionally throughout.

Anyway, it’s gone now and I’m not going to redo it. It was nice to get the rain here, though. I wore my Mother’s Day raincoat when I left (driving for the first time since the surgery), but when I got to the other side of the hill, it was dry! Usually it rains there and we miss it. But yesterday it was finally our turn! So, it was a pisser that my blog entry got zapped, but at least our cistern got filled. Ah, life in Paradise!

Here it is, another first day of another month. That means it’s our monthiversary. Number 22 to be exact. And they said it wouldn’t last….

So, since it’s Monday and Michael’s at work all day (and of course, I’m slaving away at the computer), I decided to make Sunday evening special to celebrate. Michael had one appointment at 4pm, so while he was gone I made a crab salad, decorating it with tomato and lime wedges, pignola nuts and capers, and put together a fruit and cheese platter for an appetizer.

We had bought a couple of bottles of wine earlier in the day, so I set up the table by the pool with the bottle of “Funky Llama” merlot, placemats and flowers, and prepared to have Michael get the ice bucket down when he got back to keep the “Dancing Bull” sauvignon blanc chilled.

We carried our feast outside and enjoyed a lovely meal and conversation in the waning hours of daylight. The breeze, which had been consistent during the day, decided to stop while we were out and we did have to use our home-made bug spray, but after a few minutes, some gusts started blowing and the pests went away. It looked as though it might rain, but the clouds simply passed overhead without dampening our festivities. Sipping bull and llama - what a great way to “wine down” our week-end.