ALL IS WELL

All is well
.
It has been extremely hot and dry and windy. Too hot and windy even for the beach. The wind whips up the sand and it gets in your  mouth and eyes. The tourist seasoned is over and the yachts have all gone, so Portsmouth is quiet and Prince Rupert's Bay is almost empty. They tell me it wasn't a good season, no one made enough money to carry them through to the next season.  When they come into the Bar they count their change and decide if they can have French fries with their chicken.  If they can have a beer or a shot of 'bush' rum too, though,  is never a question! 

I have been spending less time at CALLS. My little work at the Fisheries is easy. I did apply for a job at Ross but didn't get it, so still no income! I have been painting; watercolours, seascapes, river scapes, mountains. I spend my time at either the Indian River Bar chatting with Ma Zoa, and Gregory, or at the Sagittarius 2 Reggae Bar and Grill in Portsmouth. (Face book Sagittarius 2 Reggae Bar and Grill, check it out). I treat these spots as a pub, rather than a bar. I have some good friends among the white women at Ross as well as among the locals. And there is McDowell, who has his own life, but is with me here often.

I love my little apartment.  McDowell calls it 'the palace', which it definitely is not. But it is safe and it usually works!  I have taken over a corner of this veranda for potted plants; my 'garden.'  .At this very moment I am on the veranda, the sun is going down so it is cooling off. I just fed the birds a dish of sugar (little chirpy banana quits and bull finches).

A character called Fly is bicycling by, no hands, at a ferocious speed with a full case of coke on his head...and here comes Rickrack from the farm with his cutlass in one hand, sack of dasheen on his head, and in bare feet.  Someone is frying fish for supper. The mangoes are coming into their peak so everyone walks around sucking on the big pit; everyone has a mango in their mouth all the time. I still cannot tell one mango from the other. There is a whole culture around mangoes.

Right now life is good. I am old enough to know this can change in a flash so I enjoy the moment...including the too loud music, the noisy chickens settling down and roosting in the mango trees for the night, the baby across the way crying, people calling out to each other, wuzup?, wha'app'ning? Where u goeen? U cool? long time I dough see u.



....

LIAT

I have been 'LIATED' as they say.

Over the Christmas break I decided to go visit my brother in Fort Lauderdale.  I had to take LIAT to San Juan and connect with Jet Blue.   I was smart enough to leave a long layover in San Juan knowing that LIAT would be late.  I was to leave Dominica at 8AM.  They didn't come to get us in Dominica until 10.  OK. I had time.  They didn't take us to San Juan though, they took us to Antigua. Why? Because the pilot was tired!!!!   Yes he actually got on the intercom and said that.

 OK, with luck I could still make the connection in San Juan.  But no, I didn't get there in time and had to stay overnight in San Juan at my expense.  OK. I got a flight out of Antigua to San Juan the next morning and  Jet Blue got me on an early flight to Fort Lauderdale.  I had a good holiday with my brother.  

Now I had to get back to Dominica.  Jet Blue to San Juan, no problem. LIAT to Antigua - Dominica.  We left Antigua late and arrived in Dominica, but did not land The pilot said it is too windy to land, the plane cannot handle it and off we went back to Antigua. The people on the ground waiting for us to land watched the plane overhead.   LIAT put us up in Antigua and took us home the next day, minus some luggage.

This is a true story.  I am happy to report that I was very Zen about the whole thing

LIAT: Lord, I Am Terrified

         Luggage Is At Terminus

         Leaving In Another Time

Jojo

RIP Josephine Etienne.

Thanks for the pear juice.
I  hope they play cricket where you are


See 3/22/14 Notes From Sea View Restaurant

Older Ladies

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4QzHeUE-CM

HAPPENINGS

Here are some little stories for your entertainment.

Yesterday Carol, a Ross U spouse and friend,  had to appear in court for a minor traffic mishap. The proceedings were recorded, by the judge, by hand!  They were asked  to stop every once in awhile so he could catch up!  No tape recorder, never mind a person, other than the judge to write down who said what. This is a true story.


I took a small package to the post office to send to Peter. I had it nicely addressed and sealed for its journey to Canada. The little post office guy demanded that I open it. Why? I questioned. So we can see what is in it. I coolly looked him in the eye (not easy here as they avoid eye contact) and answered, "It is none of your business what is in it. The contents will be listed on the customs sticker.  Its contents are the problem of the receiving post office, not yours." We went back and forth for a bit. The post master got involved and my package went off intact.

Ross University is constructing a large new building.  An American firm is doing the work and have hired  local workers.  Many of these workers have long locks which they pile on top of their head or bind under a kerchief.  There is an issue with how to perch your hard hat on top of your hair.  The American safety officer is insisting the hard hat fit snug to the head, the construction workers are saying, "impossible."  Dominicans are very fussy about their hair.

DATURA

                           

SPEAKING DOMINICAN

Muddah                                               Mother

Fahdah                                                 Father

Come awhile                                      come here now

Just now                                              Wait a minute

Irie                                                         Good

Tanks                                                    Thanks

Portsmouf                                          Portsmouth

Fig                                                          Banana

Pear                                                       Avocado

where you be?                                 Where are you?              

I dere wi                                              Right here

Bobul                                                    A corrupt person

Fockeries                                             Foolishness
meg                                                      skinny

WET

Let's talk about being wet, constantly, inextricably, relentlessly wet.  Not damp, or humid, just wet - all the time. It's one's own juices that render one wet all over all the time.  Certainly it rains hard and often and you will get caught on the wrong side of the street where there is no overhang for shelter, but that is not the wet I am talking about.  From that you will dry quickly. The sun will blast forth and dry everything except YOU. I am talking about sweat.  

Your eyeballs sweat and you feel like you are crying; the soles of your feet sweat and you slid off your shoes.  The elastic in your bra rots and your underwear, no matter how scanty is your panty, gets wet and stays wet! The striking sun does not dry your person, it makes it wetter. You may go into a building that is air conditioned only to now be clammy and wet!

I guess they don't call it the rain forest for nothing.

And I would rather be hot and wet than cold and bundled up.

Morne Diable - an active volcano

WOMEN OVER FIFTY

As I grow in age, I value women who are over fifty most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:

A woman over fifty will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask, “What are you thinking?” She doesn’t care what you think.

If a woman over fifty doesn’t want to watch the game, she doesn’t sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it’s usually something more interesting.

A woman over fifty knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is, what she is, what she wants and from whom. Few women past the age of forty give a hoot what you might think about her or what she’s doing.

Women over fifty are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won’t hesitate to shoot you, if they think they can get away with it.

Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it’s like to be unappreciated.

A woman over fifty has the self-assurance to introduce you to her women friends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn’t trust the guy with other women. Women over fifty couldn’t care less if you’re attracted to her friends because she knows her friends won’t betray her.

Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over fifty. They always know.

A woman over fifty looks good wearing bright red lipstick. This is not true of younger women. Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over fifty is far sexier than her younger counterpart.

Older women are forthright and honest. They’ll tell you right off if you are a jerk, if you are acting like one! You don’t ever have to wonder where you stand with her.

Yes, we praise women over fifty for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it’s not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed hot woman of fifty-plus, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some twenty-two-year-old waitress.

Found somewhere on the internet - this, together with Maya Angelo's statement on what every woman should have, is truth!