Another Return

 I am getting ready to return to McDowell and Portsmouth. I did what I came to do, did more than I intended and did not do things I would have liked to do.  

Here is the thing....

This place is beautiful, a wonderful display of daylilies this year. All my old lilies, deep purple to faded yellow put on a show for me.  Perth is clean and bright, well maintained,  customer service is cheerful, people are polite and helpful, everything works well, rules of the road are followed. Quiet. 

Do I really want to plunge back into the muck and mire of chaos, noise, wind, dust, squalor, poor craftsmanship, sloppy, nosey people, stuck-up shop girls, falling-down, unkempt buildings, no planning, where people are not trustworthy, and generally ignorant?

No,,,,BUT,,,,,,, Here it is way too quiet. I have no transportation so I am stuck out here, lonely and bored.  Andy, Nick and Samantha are working and, of course, otherwise busy.  They do their best to keep me in mind.  I have no complaints with them.

McDowell is good for me and to me. I am more content there, not so always on the edge. I have a few good friends there.  It is summer all the time. 

Friday night, July 24.  I am all packed.  The 2 bins are full, sealed and labelled. I have very mixed feelings.  I just am not comfortable about the whole thing.  I am nervous about the actual travel.  Never felt this in the past. 

I don't know.  I am relying on faint hope.

ENERGY FLOWS WHERE FOCUS GOES

This is my new mantra.  My former mantra, be careful of what you assume, is still useful. This follows it.

These days I am thinking about thinking, reaction, perception, and misperception (the 'veil of illusion'). Time, space, ego, mind, and senses are the screen or veil through which we perceive others and events. 

Unhappiness does not come from events, but from reactions to them.   Is our perception of the event clear, or is it seen through an unexamined veil of illusion?

Then I veered off this path and started thinking about thinking.  There is a difference between expression and reaction to a thought and the awareness of the thinking process.  Observe your thoughts without identifying with them. Separate the thinking process from the awareness of it. There is thinking, and there is the recognition of thinking.

Next thought

Finish what you begin.  The task itself is not important.  Completion is.  Uncompleted things weaken action and judgment.

Pay attention to what you repeat.  Repetition becomes habit.  Repetition will shape you and how you experience things.  If you do what you always do, you will get what you always got.

PICKLES

 I caught the pickling bug!

I am pickling everything: cabbage, carrots, green beans, onions. My favourite is pickled red onions. They make a beautiful red colour, are crunchy and go with everything.  Quick and easy, using a basic brine with apple cider vinegar, no cooking, no sterilizing bottles.  They keep well in the fridge for a couple of weeks.

 I have been making hot sauces for a long time.  I grow hot peppers (habanero, cayenne, bishops hat and others), olive oil, white vinegar, garlic, cloves, anise, mustard seed, bay leaf, rosemary, thyme and whatever else I happen to have around.  A very hot sauce.

I know it is odd to pickle in the spring, but since these vegetables have no season here and are usually available, I can pickle whenever I am inspired.

Next are beets.........

 

No News

 

                                            Since I have no news, here are 2 recent paintings.

Check out Anthony's website at finescaletech.ca and Nick's at greenstonelandscapes.ca

How Caribbeans Measure Time and Other Phrases

 These do represent actual, measurable time

Just Now- immediately or later, or wait a minute

    I goin' jus' now to cum back - I'm leaving now, and I'll be back right away. 

Soon Come - I am just around the corner or on my way - (actually haven't left yet)

The Other Day - could be last week or 50 years ago

Come Awhile - come here right now

Draf - draft.  They seem to be sensitive to every little breeze that wafts by and blame every ailment on the 'draf'. "A draf catch me"

Kahlik - colic, or upset digestive system

Bad Spirit or Mashed-up - feeling down, stressed, depressed

Konsumshun -  a bad cough

Maga -  thin or skinny

Mashed Up - broken

    It's all in the voice inflexion and raised eyebrows

See November 6, 2023 - Post: You Know You're Dominican If You..

 Pre Christmas Update

We are closing out 2025, year of the Snake symbolizing shedding and looking forward to the year of the Horse, symbolizing moving forward.

To simplify the long and complicated stories:

RE: the Guillet property – there was a possible fraud by the neighbour who was encroaching on McDowell’s family land. This clitch is holding up the survey needed for the title to be registered in McDowell's name.  We are waiting for the surveyor and the researcher at the Registry Office to make their reports.   The lawyer cannot go ahead without these documents.  Probably after the Christmas break.  This little piece of land has been in his mother’s family for generations. In those days nobody had surveys, titles or registration; everything was considered ‘family land’.  Most of that family is either far-flung, old, sick or dead, but he can prove the line. The lot is bounded by the Manicou River and the Pennville Road.

RE: the Bay Street property where we have the house and Bar – the urgent pressure is off. We do have to move, but it turns out that McDowell is the executor of Miss Gwenny’s will, and as such the ‘other side’ can claim the property because they were named in Miss Marion’s will.  However,  until McDowell’s side is heard, the Court cannot rule when, if, or circumstances.  Miss Marion’s will gives the property to them and their heirs, as well as lifetime occupancy to her niece Gwendolyn. Miss Gwenny bequeathed the property to McDowell, although she did not ‘own’ the land.  It was not hers to give.  He will not benefit from any sale, and he will lose the little $300 Canadian rent he gets from the convenience shop on the other side.  Nothing will happen now.  Everyone is on Christmas holiday.  It can take years. Meanwhile we are here.

RE: the Land at Destinee (farm/garden/Zion).  The eastern boundary is causing some problems.  The neighbour is encroaching, i.e. planting on Magloire boundary line.  At long last, we have found one of the rare honest, licensed surveyors in Dominica.  That boundary needs to be redone and reestablished, and will be.

RE: the fond (valley)and acers at Champs Elysee are OK; fallow because there needs to be a feeder road established there to bring out any produce.

RE: Mont Morson acres - for sale

 

This is our thought: to build a little house at Guillet, and to open a small, more upscale Bar/restaurant/ live music venue, at Vance’s property on Bay Street, which has a big back yard and a room for a souvenir/gift shop/art gallery.  Waiting for Vance’s appeal on this, his building, to be finalised so we can make this move. 

AUGUST -2025

So I am home, i.e., in Portsmouth, with my McDowell, in my little old, very dirty, now clean house.  I spent 6 weeks in Brooke Valley, with Anthony, Nick and Samantha and my brother. Peter.  A "BIG UP" to Samantha. I saw the people I wanted to see, did what I went to do, and learned that I couldn't handle the technology.  My phone and the internet became a mystery.  Samantha easily handled it all for me and willingly drove me around.  I made a new friend in Sandra (Peter's lady). I was cold the whole time while everyone else complained about how hot it was!  I did enjoy the little dogs, Savvy and Rocky, the professionalism of the tradesmen and that nothing was rusty or corroded. Perth seemed gentrified. I hadn't been there for two and a half years.

We spent a good deal of time discussing renovations and remodelling. During my time there, I went up and down memory lane a lot (sadly) as I sorted, packed, stored, gave away, and threw out much of my 50 years, raising my children and career there, as well as my own childhood memorabilia. 

The trip home was easy, again thanks to Samantha.  It was easy, but the plane from Ottawa to Newark left half an hour late. I would not make the connection to Dominica as I knew I had to change terminals, which meant a bus/train to the international terminal. Luckily, I had booked a wheelchair which met me at Newark and took me directly to my flight. A good half an hour walk. I would never have made it without the assistance. She even took me to my seat on the plane. The Ottawa agent should get a mention, too. She went out of her way, was kind, understanding and helpful. Fly United Air! 

Boarding the plane to Dominica was startling.  It was filled with Caribbean people, and you could sense it.  Vibrant, colourful, and noisy. 

So here I am ....now what?????  Stay tuned 

Here's what I came back to:

The plants were alive and in good enough shape.  The garden had gone wild and was horribly overgrown. All the habanero, scotch bonnet and bird's eye cayenne peppers were bushy and loaded, the sorrel died, and the anise had gone to seed. My little pomegranate tree is now knee high, the sugar apple and guava are over my head, and I think the cashima will survive. The house was very dirty and dusty.  Dominica had had a week of heavy Sahara dust storms, so there was grit and sand everywhere, in every corner of every cupboard. In my absence, McDowell did his best, but couldn't keep up with it.  It took me a full week to bring it all under some sort of control.  The garden is weeded and the kitchen is clean. I feel I can relax a little.

It is very hot.  Thankfully, Tropical Storm Erin veered north and hit the Virgin Islands, but the sea is high, and the bay is full of cargo ships bobbing up and down at anchor.  All the fishing boats are on shore, all the sailboats are gone.  The pounding waves are undermining the beaches.

We have 3 months before we have to move. We don't know where to, but there are several very good prospects.  I am not worried.

🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴                                                                                   🌞

 ANOTHER UPDATE

For those interested......

McDowell has decided not to sign the document, which states that we have agreed to vacate by December 31, 2025.  We have a place to move the Bar to and live, but it needs to be cleaned up, and major repairs are required, which we will undertake in exchange for rent.  This is under appeal, too, so both places are awaiting the court's decision on the various appeals.

I have a brand-new passport, and I am looking forward to buying a ticket home.  I am aiming for not later than the week of August 11.  We will live in our house and do business from our Bar/Restaurant until we have to go.  I will cope with losing the garden and the sea.

Otherwise, I am OK, and packing up the Brooke Valley house.  Hard physical work, but mostly heartbreaking.  So sad.  50 years of memories, mementoes, things, photos and beautiful, beloved books that nobody wants.  The house needs attention, the roof needs repairs and the fascia must be replaced.  Nick and I are trying to decide whether to remove the additions which will not survive another long, wet winter and are too much space to heat and not needed anyway.

It seems as though I will be packing for the next 6 months.

 

May 26, 2025

Written after the hearing on May 19. 2025

The way that the case was presented is not the way it happened.

Miss Gwenny and I might have done wrong by spending all we ever earned on a property that didn’t belong to either of us.  But should we end up with nothing after all these years? Should I end up with a debt?  She only wanted to show her gratitude to her friend and caregiver.  She was a mentor for me.  I followed her instructions; she gave me her Power of Attorney.  Her aunt brought her back into her will by saying she should get a quarter of any sale or lease of the property.

The law says that Miss Gwenny could not give what she didn’t own. She thought that since Miss Marion’s will gave her guaranteed lifetime tenancy and called her the “legal owner” she could make her own will. She knew no other way to secure anything.  Mr. Clitus Angol, the Justice of the Peace and Mr. George Royer, respected senior citizens of Portsmouth, were both witnesses to her will.  Could they have stopped this tragedy?

The chain of executors has been established.  Ownership of the property has been established.  The beneficiaries of Miss Marion’s will were all dead at the time Miss Gwenny wrote her will.  She alone was left standing.

There is nothing of Miss Marion’s, Miss Kitzia or Miss Gwenny’s in the house.  There is no furniture, no objects, no glassware, no keepsake, no books, or religious pieces.  Everything has been destroyed over the years by various hurricanes, earthquakes and finally Hurricane Maria. Not even the house was standing in liveable condition. Miss Marion had died in 1988, Miss Kitzia, months after in 1999. Miss Gwenny had to sell her grandmother’s Meb bed to bury Miss Kitzia.  Ma Dewhurst bought the bed. 

It is not a true statement to say that I did nothing after I received Mr. Alick Lawertence’s letter. I took the letter to Miss Gwenny’s lawyer. Para Riviere.  After his death the situation was moved to Noreen John, who was still with Legal Aid, then Hurricane Maria came, and so I continued with her at her private office. She was communicating with Michael Bruney looking for a solution.  After Noreen John died nothing at all was ever heard from them until the Bailiff, as a surprise, came from Dawn Yearwood’s office.

I am at the Court’s mercy.   I am about to be on the street with no where to go or live.  I didn’t know what was written, or how the law was interrupted.  I didn’t force Miss Gwenny to do anything.  What she did was from her good heart.  May she rest in peace.

I wonder how Miss Gwenny and her aunt are getting along in heaven? Miss Marion, Miss Kitzia and Miss Gwenny are looking at this confusion from heaven with dismay. May their souls rest in peace.

McDowell Magloire

McDOWELL'S STORY

A follow-up to the May 19 Court date

This is McDowell's account of how he ended up here.

The people who are challenging him are portraying him as hostile and nefarious.  That is not how it happened. Both he and Miss Gwenny are without guile. 

He has accepted that he has lost ownership of the house, the concrete building and the land, and is not contesting this point. The lawyers have told us from the beginning that Miss Gwenny did not own the property, and so, however much she wanted to give McDowell something, she could not give what was not hers to give.  Miss Marion's will gave her a lifetime tenancy only,  not ownership. It is now confirmed.  Now, the question is their demand for him to pay "damages and costs".  We are asking for compensation for the renovations and rebuilding of the buildings and property since Hurricane Maria.

NOTE: The house and land were bought by Miss Marion.  Miss Gwenny, Miss Marion's niece, came to live with her aunt when she was 5 years old.  Miss Kitzia, Marion's sister, was also part of the household.  McDowell lived with his mother and siblings just down the street.  He was a school child when he started to work for the Peter ladies, Marion, Kitzia and Gwendolyn, and was with them all his life.  Miss Marion called him "Our man in the yard". Miss Gwenny called him "My adopted son".

McDowell -

One day, during my early childhood days in Portsmouth, as I was running along Bay Street on my way to the Portsmouth Pier, or dock, Miss Marion, who was standing on her porch, called me.  I sat down with her at her dining room table.  She wrote down the names of many men from the upper Zikack area.  She asked me if I knew these men.  I told her no, but she set me off anyway, with a bunch of newspapers, called The Star, to find these people. Miss Alfree was the editor of the newspaper. The newspaper was 25 cents at the time. I was paid 2 cents for each one I sold and delivered weekly. Many people helped me along the way. This continued for months. 

I don’t really remember how many years I spent delivering papers, or polishing the floors, or picking knips and doing messages under Miss Marion’s direction, for the family. One day, she handed me a straw lunch basket and told me to deliver it to Miss Gwenny who was working further down Bay Street, about 3 blocks away.  This became a regular thing. I also met the other aunt, Miss Kitzia, who was not of sound mind.

 Miss Gwenny was a ship agent and owned a small craft shop on her own property. During the time I was assisting the Peters ladies, Miss Gwenny introduced me to her brother, Mr. Wills Kelsick. She bought agricultural produce from him to be shipped to Antigua to a hotel.  I prepared the produce for shipping for Miss Gwenny.  One evening, as I was coming home from Long House after shipping his produce, Mr. Kelsick called me into the Douglas Snackette.  He said to his new wife, “He’s the one.” Then to me he said, “Don’t think Gwenny can leave you anything because she is only there until she dies.”  I didn’t understand this, so I brought the remark to Miss Gwenny’s attention.

After Hurricane David, (August 25, 1979) things changed. I found a job on a boat coming and going. These I call my sailing days. 

When I was back home in Portsmouth and settled, about 1990, I learned of the death of both aunts, Marion and Kitzia (Marion, 1988, Kitzia, 1989) and of the struggle Gwenny had to rebuild the old wooden house in the yard next to the main house. It brought back old memories because it was a house that was used as a shop.  That’s where I bought my Christmas supplies as a child.  It was one of our most exciting Christmas shops in Portsmouth. Miss Gwenny told me they broke it down and built another little storeroom with the excess material salvaged from the old building, and how she had to sell her property on Bay Street to build the concrete building.  She wanted to be closer to her ailing and aged aunts.  When I arrived, Miss Gwenny had a new craft shop on the side of the new, concrete building closest to the house and rented out the other side.

By this time, Miss Gwenny was partially blind.  She struggled with this blindness until the end of her days, dying at 102 (2012) having come to live there from the time she was 5 years old. During this time, the late 90s, she developed a problem with her tenant (Roger Brewster) who was not paying his rent. This rent was her only income to support herself and the improvements to the family home. The matter was put in the courts by her and her brother

At that time, I was working with my sister in rented premises on Harbour Lane Street. After Gwenny won her case against Brewster she said to me, “The place ready, do you want it?” I took it. She rented that spot to me at $400 a month. This is where I presently have my business, The Sagittarius 2 Reggae Bar and Grill. This enterprise is registered as La Cour Heritage.

In 1995 I had to go to St Martin with my pregnant girlfriend and stayed a couple of months, then returned to Portsmouth.  In the later part of 1995 I had to return to St Martin to pick her up. I paid Miss Gwenny for 4 months' advance rent.  Then 2 Hurricanes, Luis and Marilyn, category 4 hit St Martin back-to-back. I was in St. Martin. A helicopter came from Guadeloupe to St Martin and picked up all the pregnant women and took them to Guadeloupe.  I returned to Portsmouth to get a visa for Guadeloupe.  The baby was born in Guadeloupe, September 15, 1995. We 3 (me, mother and baby) came back to Portsmouth.  I reopened my business.

Miss Gwenny and I had to repair the entire backyard and the seawall, which were severely undermined by the 2 hurricanes,

November 1, 2004: We had a major Richter scale 6 earthquake. Miss Gwenny and I were in the house when it started to shake.  Gwenny hung onto the kitchen counter and called out to me, “Hold me, hold me “, while the house was swaying.  Then she shouted, “Mother Mary! Help us!”   The earthquake brought down the steeple in the Catholic Church, the Methodist church in Portsmouth and the church in Ville Case. It also brought down the 50-foot-long, 12-foot-high, L shaped, stone wall between the house and the big drain on Boroughs Square. We paid men to clean up the fallen wall. We are still picking up stones from this wall.

 The Bar was not operating well, so Miss Gwenny gave me notice and rented it to someone else and the other side to Justina De Roche for a mini mart. They are still there. I continued to live in the family house as Miss Gwenny’s caretaker.

During early 2007 I ran into financial difficulties and decided to go to St. Marten.  I ended up paying my debt and returned to Dominica 2 years later (2009) to my sick mother, who died while I was on the way home to her, only to find that Miss Gwenny was in greater problems with the tenant who was now occupying my former space. It was then that she appointed me her Power of Attorney so I could go to court on her behalf.  With this and her lawyer I was able to solve the problem on her behalf. Then I started my business again. She called me her adopted son.

Gwenny struggled to make ends meet until her death in 2012.   I was looking after Miss Gwenny and living in the house as a family member.

I heard a conversation between Mr. Kelsick and Miss Gwenny where she told him that she must leave something for McDowell.  He answered that “You can’t give something that is not yours.” She said, “It is my house, and I can do what I want.  I will make a will”.  It was then that she made her will. 2004.  This will was lost in Hurricane Maria.

Miss Gwenny and I continued to uplift the estate.  She wrote her second will in 2010. After discussion and negotiation failed, I was asked to go call the Justice of the Peace, and Mr. Morris Thomas as witnesses for Miss Gwenny when her lawyer, Para Riviere, had finished the document and it was ready to be signed.

A point I want to make is that Miss Gwenny didn’t do this on her own.  She made her will with a lawyer.  She asked me to get the lawyer to come to her so she could make a will.   She gave her aunt’s will to him for the information in it. At this meeting I heard her lawyer tell her that she could sell.  So that gave her the confidence to make her will as she did. After he made her will, I was sent to call the Justice of the Peace, Mr. Angol at the time and another good friend of the family to witness it.  After she received the will and it was signed, she told me to take it to the registry to be registered. When I went to the registry, they told me the will cannot be registered until her death and to keep it in a safe place.  After her death I registered it. I don’t know if she got wrong advice.

The only other person I knew of who was close to Miss Gwenny, beside Mr. Kelsick, was Angela Dewhurst and her husband, Peter.  It was not until near the end of Miss Gwenny’s days that I saw any other members of her family.  A young lady and her husband passed on a Sunday, quickly visited, and she left me her phone number.  I called this number the morning of her death.

The night before the burial, while I was working in the Bar, Merlin Kelsick and Pet Savarin came and asked me for the keys to the house because they wanted to enter the house, which was my home.   Previously, I had been instructed by Miss Gwenny, “Don’t give anybody the keys after I die and the funeral home has my body.”  I closed the Bar and came with them to the house. I opened the door, turned on the lights and let them in.  Mr. Kelsick looked around and started asking me questions about the house such as,  “Are there any leaks in the roof?” and he was moving around like he had already taken over.

The next day after the burial some family members walked into the house and started walking through the house and the yard like they were already the owners. Some of them I only saw for the first time.  I followed them into the yard.  When we came back inside, Merlin Kelsick said to me, “I will send you a letter and the tenants because I am the executor of Gwenny’s estate.”  So, I said, “you say that you are the executor of her estate, but I am the executor of her last will and testament. Then he jumped on his crew and said,” You guys never told me that, and there is nothing I can do until I see this document”.  Then I said, Tomorrow I will get the justice of the peace to read her will to you.” Merlin Kelsick answered “NO NO we need an official copy,” My answer was that I would get it from the lawyer tomorrow and you can pick it up.  They came and they picked it up. His comment was, “Oh she left you everything….” And he said more. A few weeks later I received the letter from Alec Lawrence at the post office which I brought to Miss Peter’s lawyer. 

There is no hostility on my part, and I have never met June Kelsick.  I do not know this person so I couldn’t be hostile.  Sometimes at night I see people I don’t know hanging around, so I ask if they are a spy or what they are doing there.  This is not hostility.  This is protecting the property.

 It has been my home for the last 33 years. I also have a registered business on the property.  After Maria I took loans to reroofed, renovate, rebuild, reside, and make it liveable again.  I am still paying these loans at the Credit Union and Rudolph Thomas Hardware. In other words, I didn’t make it worse, I made it better.  It is one of the old century houses on Dominica.

From what I know about Miss Gwenny, she was not a bad person.  Whatever she did wrong wasn't willful.  Like me, I thought I was safe under what she was doing, that’s the true respect I had for the woman and her struggle.  I don’t know if she thought her aunt had brought her into the picture when she promised a quarter of the sale or lease to her, or if she did not understand what Gwenny’s position was. I’m in the middle of what is a mystery to me.   

 Miss Gwenny wanted to give me something she had worked all her life for, it just happened to be this land compound.  Everything she had has gone into this property.  Gwenny told Will Kelsick, Marion’s executor, that she wanted to give me something. He did not want to negotiate with her. She wasn’t left with a choice because everything she legally owned in her lifetime was put into this property. I think the executor could have worked something out with her because they were both beneficiaries included in the future lease or sale of the property. Maybe she thought, as a legal lifetime owner, she could do what she wanted, and she had a lawyer’s advice.

I am willing to answer any questions

LIFE MOVES ON

 The days are getting longer. Carnival, Easter, and the Spring Equinox are over for this year. Tourists come and go. The little dramas continue. Trump has infected the whole world with his nastiness.  

We await our hearing on May 19. Suspended animation is a real thing.   Read Blog HOMELESS June 9, 2023

Events and Little Dramas

 This is what I mean when I say 'little events and dramas' make up my day

Early this morning, McDowell sent some men to the farm to do some work. Along with three breadfruit trees, six tania plants, and four coconut plants, I sent some of McDowell's old, torn, and stained pants and T-shirts for the men to change into for working in the field. They came back wearing these. These old clothes were cleaner and in better condition than what they went up with. They were so happy to have 'new' clothes.

This afternoon,  I asked Bull and Roger to pick the oranges on the tree behind the house.  I went to get a box for the oranges and when I got back I was horrified to see Bull swinging his cutlass and climbing all over the compost box,  attacking the orange tree ready to cut it down. Dominicans will cut down anything confident that it will eventually grow back.    He didn't even pick the oranges first\

A couple of weeks ago, during the Portsmouth opening of the Carnival parade, a few revellers jumped over the rail on our veranda and, then later that night I happened to catch a man (known to us) climbing over the high gate at the street.  Time to install bright lights.  We had been putting this expensive task off.   The electrician came and did the installation, around the Bar and on the beach too!  Now, night is brighter than day.    Too much of a good thing in my opinion.  

\

Lemons from Destinee

Reflecting

 My life has become very narrow.  The days and weeks slip by.  So odd. I am busy enough.  I only leave the house to go to the shops once or twice a week. My few friends drop in, and I putter around in the garden bothering the plants, cleaning up, cooking and painting.  I am content doing little chores,  rearranging things, and answering emails. I exchange pleasantries with the men at the Bar, chat with the shop and market women and talk to the tourists. Local events, dramas, politics and concerns are always foremost. The vagaries of the sea, wind, and rain are in the background

I fume angrily when they turn up the music to ridiculous volumes on the Square or Evangelical preachers go on and on, loudly, for hours. and swarms of motorcycles thunder past on a Friday night. making this old house quake and ancient termites fall from the ceiling. Dominicans are a boisterous people. 

The backyard is now lush with Vervain, Tanya, hot pepper plants and some bush I can't name, but has a reputation of preventing prostrate troubles if you drink a tea made with its leaves.  I have a huge gooseberry tree, a carambola (star fruit), a pomme citier, (golden apple), Sea Grape, tropical almond,  coconut and banana trees and others too unknown to mention   The broken sour sop tree has put forth leafy branches, and the avocado has new growth.  I am amazed.  I thought, for sure, they were dead.  But no, in this hot, wet, sunny climate, plants don't die.

The dogs are fine and enjoying life.  

I am healthy. slower and stiffer, but no serious aches and pains.  I can still ignore most of it.  I have lost my manual grip so I drop everything. 

I am fussing with the question of going up there this spring.  When? If? Maybe May? for 4 weeks. I miss Anthony, Nick, and Samantha. but the thought of travelling, especially in these troubled times, is less than encouraging.

Sunset viewed from our deck

Some recent artwork

Me

McDowill Magloire

Indian River

MORE OF THE SAME

 I haven't blogged for a long time.  Mostly because there is not much to blog about, but I thought I would say something to start off 2025 

Christmas and New Year 2024 have come and gone. Both were pleasant and quiet here. Tourist season is supposed to be in full swing, but it is slow.  

We have had to change service providers.  With the new one, I get CBC Gem on TV, so I am up to date with Canadian news.  It seems that Justine Trudeau has passed his best-before-date. I just learned a phrase in Patois that I think is apt:  tout cochon ni Sammdi yo. Every pig has its Saturday!  I like Mark Harney as a possible new Liberal leader.  Christy Clarke is likeable but not a leader.  Chrysta Freeland lost me when she had her temper tantrum, however justified it might have been.  

Meanwhile, California is burning, Sudan is starving, the people of the Middle East are killing each other, Russia and Ukraine can't stop, South Korea is in shambles, the Philippines are under threat,  tuberculosis and polio are on the rise, and the devil and his angels walk the earth.  I am staying right here in my little backwater Caribbean island.  We really only have the weather to watch out for, although certainly, the global troubles will impinge, but not as soon, nor as intensely.  Dominica has its own problems.  

Life in Portsmouth for me is very simple.  I am healthy, the plants are growing, and my good friends, Hen, Tracy and Mait drop in often.  Happily, the internet usually works. The ownership of this property has not been resolved and remains a worry.  Food is boring, expensive or not available. and my clothes are rotting.  Dominicans are a noisy people,  loud talk, loud music, loud traffic, and many little daily, public events and life dramas. Otherwise, omnia bene.

I wish I could get the photos off my iPhone onto the laptop to post here.

Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose

The back yard is just beginning to recover.  It will never be the same lush, bushy, shaded area it was before Beryle, but it is certainly greener.  I have just let it go to see what grows naturally in the striking sun, sea breeze and stones.  It's hot and bright out there! Lots of vervain popping up.  We have had several storms since Beryle, but no hurricanes. Lots and lots of rain and extreme heat.  It is too hot to even go to the beach and the seawater is way too warm

Since the last post, we have had the Olympics, USA Democratic Convention, the 'debate'

No news really,  just local life bumping along the unpredictable road going nowhere.  Economic life is stagnant.  The government is making all kinds of wild promises, as governments do.

The dogs are here with us living happily on the beach.  I have some nice photos but I can't get them off my phone to the laptop.

More later.....

 

HURRICANE BERYL

 On July 1, 2024, Hurricane Beryl began its assault on the Caribbean.  The eastern Caribbean islands got the brunt.  Grenada, St. Vincent, Carriacou and Union Island, Petite Martinique were devastated. 

Dominica got hit, especially at the north end of the island.   Floods, landslides, road washouts, downed trees and raging seas damaged the whole west coast. The road to the Cabrits is impassible, Scott’s Head became an island.

My little bit of Dominica was ruined, washed away by huge, pounding waves coming over the seawall all night long. The seawater came right up to the deck and all the plants, shrubs, young mango, lime and lemon that were around it became a salt-poisoned wasteland.  The smashing waves brought down part of the fence. I had a 30-foot heavily laden avocado tree in the yard, and even now 10 days later, the fruit is falling, the leaves are wilting and turning brown and falling. My little poinsettia forest is gone.  What is there now is sand and stone - not even a decent piece of driftwood.

I will never plant in that area again.  I have learned a valuable lesson.  It is the littoral zone and I will respect that and treat it as such.  The house is high and dry.  I had some big plants in pots at the side, away from the sea blast, they were not affected.

Then I got a terrible flu and have been sick for 4 days.  Much better now, but daunted by the clean-up work in the former garden.

The already cash-poor Caribbean will take a long long time to recover

Etcetera continued

They Never Tell You Everything...

Do they deliberately withhold information or are they just inefficient, or do they assume I know?  I can't even guess.  Here are a few examples:

FedEx should have told me what to expect in the way of extra duty and taxes.  The woman at the beginning of the chain of people I had to deal with clearly knew. When I went in to tell her, she only confirmed it all.

We have several old rusty stoves and metal chairs in the yard that I have been after Solid Waste to come and take away.  For weeks the  Solid Waste office would only say that they would let me know when the truck was coming, or they couldn't pick up the stuff at all.  Finally, someone told me to go to the Town Council, that that was the correct place. I went.  the woman at the desk took the information.  No one ever came.  I went to the Town Council several times and was always told that they had the information.  On my visit to the office 2 weeks ago she said, "But you never paid".  I kicked myself.  Of course! I should have known that there was a fee. When I looked at her and asked but why didn't you tell me weeks ago, she only looked puzzled and didn't answer.  I was happy to pay for it and was promised that the truck would come the following week.  Fool that I am, I believed her.  No truck.  McD saw the truck driver last week and he assured McD that he would come on Wednesday.  No truck.  There is no point in going back to the Town Council with the receipt.   The truck will come in its own time and the stuff will be taken away.  That is life in Dominica.  

I went to the Georgetown Health Center again today to get the results of the giardia test and get my permit.  They couldn't find the report.  Same as last week.  This time I went back and forth from the receptionist to the nurse to the environmental health officer.  Luckily they are all in the same building.  The nurse called the lab,  They hadn't sent the report in the last batch but they did tell her it was negative and to go ahead and process me.  Phew.  No giardia.  But no card either! Environmental Health didn't bring any! Why?  Wednesday is their day at the health center for the food handlers.  I have to go back next Wednesday to pick it up.  Wednesday is the baby clinic and is very crowded with mothers, infants and children up to 4 years old.  I wait my turn in line with them all.

Everything is in its own time.

On  Sunday we caught Smiley, a street person, dumping someone's garbage on our beach.  Smiley is the same guy who was sleeping on our veranda.  McD, EBoy, and I went after him shouting and yelling.  He dumped the garbage and ran, shouting invective back at us

Yesterday the police came to the Bar because they had information that Jeff, whom they had been looking for for a while, was there.  Someone else in the Bar warned Jeff who took off, jumped over our sea fence ran along the seawall, and disappeared

I don't think we'll be seeing Smiley or Jeff for a while!

Etcetera

 One week after Carnival and all is back to normal.  Usual traffic, usual heat, usual street noises, usual folk, usual disasters, usual wilted vegetables in the market, usual shortages. All is well.

A few updates:  

The iPhone is fully functional.  The aching shoulder has its off and on days, McD gave his daughter $$$ for the dentist and she canceled all her appointments.  He is out some money.  I told him to pay the dentist directly, but nooooo!

The piles on the beach are still there and being added to by the vendors on the Square.  I hope it is drying out so NEP or someone can move it.  Maybe burn it?  The sea will take it back in the next storm, but this is the Karam, the dry season, so no storms for months.

New sample has just been delivered to the lab and I will get giardia results by week's end.  I have had some side normal effects to the medication, lethargy and upset intestinal system mostly, but back on track now.  

At this moment, Bef is scrubbing some really nice heavy iron pots and pans  that I found and EBoy is sweeping up the dried fallen leaves from the yard.  The dogs are sleeping in the shade behind the house. Nice west breeze coming in off the ocean.

My complaint is that I am finding stairs, getting up from a sitting position, and carrying stuff increasingly troubling.  I used to be so graceful and strong.    Balance is wonky too.  I feel that I go tottering down the street like a drunken sailor!  and slow. I don't like this at all.

I cant get photos from the tablets to this laptop.  I would like to attach photos to these blogs

'til next time

STORMS, CARVIVAL, HEN

 Early February started off with a tropical depression extreme weather,  Cold, pouring, drenching rain, Sahara Dust, very high angry seas, and sailboats tossed ashore. Almost 5 days of this,  By Carnival time it was over, leaving our beach with 3 meters  of ocean debris, large logs, and uprooted coconut trees, garbage, a smelly mess and no interesting driftwood.

Then came pre-carnival week with its own kind of storm....noise, relentless, thumping, pounding, stultifying, mindless noise.  I will not honour it with the word "music", although this is what the local people call it.  It is a computer-driven rhythm only, which I guess is what is required. The Saturday before Carnival Monday's 5 am Jouvert, the guy with the Bar on the Square had his amplifier on overdrive until 3 am.

I managed all of it, including McD's multiple preparations and worries,  and had Hen and Mait on standby in case of my collapse.  By the time the band and its revelers came around again, I knew my breakdown was coming so I called my team.  Hen arranged to pick me up.  Tracy turned up and we went  to meet Hen.

Hen lives below the school playground in Savanne Paille.  She has made the little house, (formerly owned by Annika) her own. Lovely, peaceful, calming. She graciously installed me in her downstairs fully equipped apartment, fed me a delicious supper, we chatted a bit, smoked a cigarette, and watched the sunset.  I slept, for 12 hours, doors and windows wide open, (McD's marauding evil spirits or mosquitos were not present), awoke restored and comforted and came home to Portsmouth.

At the moment it is far from quiet.  The truck with amplifiers as big as refrigerators is parked outside my veranda.  The poor old house is throbbing and things are jumping off the walls and shelves.  I came home too soon.

BUSY

Well, January might have been quiet but February started off with boom.  Nothing special just all at once.

Preparations for Carnival are underway.  The Kubuli (beer) truck just delivered 7 cases, now we have to buy couple of cases of Carib and Heineken.  Macoucherie is short on cask rum.  There are no cigarettes, only Dunhill. 

Very few tourists, and they are not spending!

The Vet came today, and the dogs are spayed and neutered.   The dogs are recovering and are hung over from the anesthetic.  They will sleep it off.  The process cost 350 EC dollars -  about $175 Canadian for the two. MUCH cheaper than Canada.  All done on the tables outside, under the almond trees.  No fancy animal hospital. No vaccine though.  There is no vaccine on the Island.  Soon they will go and stay at the farm and chase off the agouti and goats. They are expensive.  I cook big pots of dog rice and chicken neck for them.  Ugh.  I won't be sorry to see them  go.  Feeding them, making sure they have water and cleaning up after them are jobs I don't want.  They are McD's dogs.  He will do all this but in his own timeless kind of time, if you know what I mean.   No routine.  Meanwhile, I end up worrying about them and doing the dog chores.

McD's daughter has a problem with a bad tooth.  They are at the dentist in Roseau at the moment. I'm very sure she needs a lot of work on her teeth.  He will get an assessment, I hope.

I could not get my food handlers permit.  My test was positive for the giardia worm, a microscopic intestinal parasite common in the tropics.  I am completely asymtomatic! I am taking the prescribed medication, then retest in 3 weeks.  McDowell's test was negative because he purged the night before giving his sample.   I would have had a negative result too if I had also flushed.  Because his test was negative, he got his permit.  Good.

The iPhone is held up at customs.  They want 350EC to release it to me.  I won't have the money until next week.  I really only want it for the camera.  

No news at all from the lawyer about the status of the claim to this property.  It will be a year in May. 

McDowell is managing two properties for his friend Vans.  This involves me as I am the line of communication.  I don't mind, but it is time-consuming 

Stupid Microsoft keeps telling me that I don't have any more storage space and trying to scare me into buying protection from all the evil spirits out there.   They have about 3 different names for the same thing, I don't know what they are talking about.  A nuisance. 

Then there are the on-going expenses, work, and life.........but things are good     😄

Oh, and I should mention that all of this was with a very painful left shoulder and upper arm.  The doctor and I can't get seem to get a handle on it.  The ultrasound does tell us that there is no tear or damage, but some swelling of the long tendon, and I have the full range of motion.  I don't want any more steroids.  800mg of ibuprofen, 400 in the morning, and 400 at bedtime keep it quiet enough.  It is a very strange thing, seems to be worse at night and lying down.  Time and rest are what it needs. Maybe arthritis.