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~ Home of author Sarah Wynde

Category Archives: Travel

Crazy cat dream

27 Tuesday Oct 2015

Posted by wyndes in Pets, Swimming, Writing

≈ 2 Comments

I dreamed last night that I owned a van and a big orange cat. I think maybe I was homeless and living in the van with the cat, but for some reason I needed to leave it alone temporarily. I was worried about it but a mysterious friend said that she’d have her cat take care of it. In the dream, that made perfect sense.

It also made sense that I owned a cat despite being seriously allergic. There is no way that a cat and I could share a van as living space. I would literally die when my airways closed off in my sleep. Dreams are weird.

Back to the dream, I returned to the van to find a tiger guarding my cat, defending it from a cougar. The tiger stood in front of the open van door, huge and orange and sleek, the way that tigers are, and when the cougar — beige and muscular — crouched as if to jump in the van, the tiger did that nonchalant tiger thwack with its front paw, sending the cougar scurrying away.

I was so grateful to the tiger. I was also afraid of it. It was a tiger. In my van! It was huge!! I couldn’t bring myself to get any closer and then all of a sudden, I was standing in the road, and big cats — the tiger, a snow leopard, a lioness, maybe a couple of others (but not the cougar) were all gamboling around with a bunch of little cats, including mine. I was horribly worried that they would get hit by cars and killed and I knew we had to gather them up and get them to safety. But I was also worried that they would kill me. How do you gather up gigantic predators?

And then I woke up.

I had a couple other weird dreams that I wanted to remember, but they’re gone now, lost to the morning routine and the dog walking thoughts and the stupid ruminations that I haven’t quite let go of (even though I’m now reminding myself that I’m having a thought when I catch myself drifting in that direction.) But I didn’t want to forget the tiger. It felt so symbolic, so significant. Definitely one of those dreams where you think “this means something important” but then you’re forced to admit that you have no idea what your subconscious is trying to tell you.

Ooh, another weird dream remembered, or at least a bit of it. Some kind of adventure, Agents of SHIELD style, but it ended when one of the people in the adventure, possibly a Simmons like character, was shot and fell to the ground. Two of the team chased after the shooters, but three of us stopped by the girl. I put my hands over the injury, pressing as hard as I could, knowing how much it must hurt her, but the blood just kept pouring forth. I was calling for help, 911, a doctor, something to stop the bleeding, anything, but the blood just kept coming. It was surprisingly warm, which I suppose is logical but had never really struck me as an idea before (and makes me want to go find a thermometer and see what 98 degree water feels like) and it felt clingy, like it would never come off of what it touched. And I couldn’t stop it. It was no time and endless time and then the blood stopped because it was all out of her. I felt like I had failed and I also felt really angry, like this is not how the story is supposed to go. This character cannot die. This is the wrong direction. These writers suck.

I guess those writers are my subconscious. My subconscious sucks.

It was not a particularly restful night.

***
For future reference for myself, it’s looking very much like the last swimming day of 2015 was October 15. That’s the latest it’s ever been, which is nice after the horribly rainy summer where it was always thundering. But the dogs and I miss it already. Zelda keeps trying to convince me that I want to go in the water and you know, I really don’t, but Bartleby is almost worse. He can’t seem to understand why I only want to sit on the porch instead of taking him swimming. And he is completely opposed to me sitting and writing on the porch. He seems to think that if I’m going to sit there, it is my job to provide him with a lap to sit in and hands to pet him.

Word count yesterday existed. Word count today is definitely going to do the same. NaNoWriMo starts in five days and this year, I’m making it to 50K words. I just wasted twenty minutes looking for a good quote about determination and failing to find one, so here’s my own: one word at a time, one minute at a time, one day at a time, that’s all it takes.

Autumn arriving

02 Friday Oct 2015

Posted by wyndes in Boring, Editing, Food, Swimming

≈ 2 Comments

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Swimming, veggie hash

It felt like fall today, so I made myself winter food for breakfast: veggie hash, which is basically just whatever veggies I have available, chopped up reasonably small (for fast cooking) and sauteed, with some protein source mixed in. Today, it was acorn squash, sweet potato, carrot, parsnip, bok choy, and red onion with bacon. Some spices — garlic-salt and ginger — while cooking. At the last minute, I added half an avocado because I had two that are ripe. Wow, the avocado just made it. It added a touch of cool creaminess, but the heat of the veggies was enough to soften it, so all the veggies became lightly avocado-flavored. That sounds weird, but it was delicious.

In the last four days, I have edited 150,000 words. (Mostly not my own words.) I am seriously wiped out. Editing is such focused work. But I enjoyed it. Most of all, I enjoyed going over to a friend’s last night for our weekly writing get-together and getting to be back in my own world again. Spending my day hours editing made my evening hours of writing all the better.

I haven’t thought much about editing as what I should be doing to make money while I write for fun, but now I’m considering the idea. I thought I was so burned out on editing that I would never go back, but… well, I don’t know. Maybe.

Yesterday, first day of October, I stretched my lunch break to two hours so that I could spend one of them floating in the pool and reading a book. I think this is the first time that I’ve still been swimming regularly as October begins. This year I saw maybe two love bugs, that was it. Usually by now we’re infested with them. Maybe the summer was too wet? But I’m grateful for the last lingering days of enjoying the water.

This feels like a very boring blog post, but I’ve got a bunch of businesslike things to do — making a new box set, pulling The Spirits of Christmas from non-Amazon sites, downloading a translation, writing a book description and a forward — and I’m feeling so fried from the editing that I’m avoiding all those things. Plus, avocado in veggie hash & swimming in October are things I want to remember, and blogging works that way for me. But back to work I go…

Lazy Sunday

13 Sunday Sep 2015

Posted by wyndes in Bartleby, Florida, Personal, Pets, Zelda

≈ 3 Comments

I have a sore throat. I’m trying to convince myself that it’s allergy-related, and it could be, but suspecting that it’s my own damn fault does not make me feel any less sorry for myself.

Nor, unfortunately, does it make me any more inclined to avoid the foods that I’m allergic to. Cheese & chocolate are worth a little suffering. If it wasn’t Sunday, I’d head over to Trader Joe’s, in fact, to buy fresh rice noodles to make myself the most delicious crab pasta dish — crab sauteed in browned butter (allergen!), with lemon zest, garlic, lemon juice, white wine (allergen!), lots of cilantro, and served over rice (allergen!) noodles. I made that recipe up last week when my friend S sent me a couple of cans of Dungeness crab meat and it was so good that I’m still thinking about it.

But I also know that a year into my AIP experience, I’ve gotten so cavalier that I’m losing the health benefits I gained. Pain influences my choices too many days lately. Would I be more inclined to write today if my throat and hands didn’t hurt? Maybe. Maybe I’ll go eat some sauerkraut and convince myself that it has enough virtue to balance out the goat cheese.

Apart from the sore throat, aches-and-pains, it’s a grey, rainy, bleak day, further reason to think browsing the internet and/or watching television and/or reading bits and pieces of old books is more appealing than writing. My usual techniques for being productive on grey days all revolve around caffeine (not AIP-friendly, of course) and sugar (ditto). And I am abruptly reminded that I drank a real latte — a pumpkin spice latte, in fact! — on Friday, which is a whole bunch of real dairy. That’s sort of comforting, since it means I might still be able to continue including goat cheese in my diet as long as I avoid cow milk. It was delicious, and maybe even worth it.

Friday was actually a spectacular day after I got over being gloomy about the state of the world. I got Z a new pink basketball at Target (and myself a pumpkin spice latte and a pair of capri jeans for $7.50) and we spent the afternoon in the pool. Much splashing & floating, much throwing of the ball, much, much sun. I wish I knew how to capture the memory of that day in a way that could really replicate the physical sensations of my love for my dogs, the affection and joy and happiness of playing with them when the sun sparkles on the water and the water itself is pure smooth comfort on my skin. A writer ought to be able to, but I suspect when I reread this two years from now or whenever, I’ll think — huh, must have been a nice day with the dogs — without really having the slightest recollection of what the day was like.

But B does these little tentative jumps into the pool these days — he wants his front paws on my shoulder before he’ll step into the pool, and then once in the water, he swims delicate little circles around me, always returning to sit on my arm, and then paddles straight on to the steps and out. He’s baby weight — 14 pounds — and it reminds me of those long-gone days of taking toddler R into the water, always alert. On Friday, it was so warm that he didn’t bother to immediately rush to roll himself dry, just wandered around wet until the next time he wanted to come in again. And bark, bark, bark if I go under. I think he’d really prefer it if I only ever stood, never swam, in the water.

And Z was so happy about her new ball. Her doggie smile, open-mouthed and panting, tongue hanging out, while she stands on the steps of the pool and watches the ball float away from her is the purest, clearest, most joyful expression. I wonder if I have a picture. Well, this is from the beach two years ago, but it’s as close as I can come. Doggie joy.

Zelda at the beach

Summer’s End

22 Saturday Aug 2015

Posted by wyndes in Florida, Food, Salad

≈ 2 Comments

R headed off to school this week. That means summer’s over, right? But the Florida weather promptly rewarded me with the two nicest days we’ve had all summer long. Swimming was finally the kind of joy that it usually is in June, where the water’s warm and the sky’s clear and paddling around aimlessly feels luxurious.

I savored it, because obviously there’s not going to be a lot of those days left this year. Usually sometime in September the bugs get insane–it’s mating season for something we call lovebugs and if you try to sit outside, you wind up with them crawling over you by the dozen. Even when swimming you get bugs in your hair and face. And they die after they mate, so their little black bodies pile up everywhere. It only lasts a couple of weeks, but it marks the end of swimming for the year. This year is the first year that having a pool has felt much more like an expensive burden than a pleasure, so I’m glad to have had at least a couple nice summer days.

And I used them well. I took the computer and my laptop outside and alternated writing sprints with dips in the pool. It reminded me of how I wrote Ghosts, which was mostly written on the back porch, and made me wonder why I stopped doing that. I think because I have a different laptop now and its screen is less tolerant of sunlight than my old computer. And its battery doesn’t last so long. Oh, and for a while back then, I actually had a desk on the porch. Anyway, I don’t really know the answer, but it’s a good way to write. I’ll be headed out there again today, I hope.

The slow progress on Grace continues — still slow, but still progress. I’m at a point this morning where I’m thinking a) so far this book is nothing but conversation, is that a problem? and b) the current conversation that I need to write is really complicated, that’s a problem. But I’m reassuring myself by remembering that my beta readers are terrific and helpful and they’ll be honest with me if it’s too complicated. Not that I’m letting anyone read it at the moment, but eventually I’ll be looking for beta readers.

I released The Wedding Guests as a stand-alone story this week. I’ve got a bunch of bookmarks to give away which I intended to do at the launch, but… I was too busy. Maybe not literally busy, but I read a great article about emotional labor recently and it resonated. Not in that I do a lot of emotional labor in relationships — I think I’m pretty terrible at it, actually — but sometimes doing our own emotional labor is hard work. Anyway, I aspire to get organized about a bookmark giveaway, but I’m not going to think about it again until after Labor Day when the summer is truly over. Today and tomorrow and the next day and the next, my focus is going to be on writing Grace, eating well, doing yoga, and savoring the summer’s last few days of beauty.

Today’s meal plan:
Breakfast: Salad of arugula, avocado, strawberry, and smoked trout, topped with balsamic vinegar.
Lunch: Salad of cabbage, cilantro, red onion, avocado, mango, and garlic-sauteed shrimp, with a dressing made of lime zest & juice, pressed garlic, salt, and coconut oil. Possibly, if I’m feeling daring, a little hot sauce, because giving the shrimp a bit of a kick is sometimes worth the nightshade hit.
Dinner: Salad of mixed greens, orange segments, thinly-sliced pork chop, toasted pecan bits, and goat cheese, with a dressing made of lemon juice, olive oil, chopped mint, honey, and maybe a little white wine vinegar if needed.

Sometimes I think I should eat something other than salad. I did last night: baked pork chop and roasted brussels sprouts. It was good enough, but not great. I wished I was eating salad of mixed greens, honey-smoked salmon, radishes, cucumber, red onion, & kalamata olives, topped with balsamic. Such a specific wish, but while I was eating I was thinking about the perfect salad and that was the one I came up with.

All right, time to write. Grace’s difficult conversation isn’t going to write itself!

36 Hours in Key West

10 Friday Jul 2015

Posted by wyndes in Florida, Food, Personal

≈ 6 Comments

I had a perfect vacation in June. Thirty-six hours where everything fell into place, parking spots opened up like magic, meals were delicious, and the stars aligned.

Okay, the stars part might be hyperbole. But the weather was ideal and the tourist gods were definitely on our side.

So it started when my friend S (mentioned previously in blogs of our Belize trip) flew out from CA. We spent a couple days playing tourist in Orlando. We went out for Korean food, wandered around downtown Winter Park, rode the Orlando Eye (a giant Ferris wheel which would have been a lot more interesting if Orlando during the daytime wasn’t just a sea of parking lots), Sea Life (an aquarium in the same complex), the Skeleton Museum (super-cool, with many, many bones) and Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum. It was a veritable binge of touristing and really quite fun. And it set the tone for our trip within her trip. We were going to tourist and tourist hard.

We knew from the start that our little trip to Key West was going to be super quick — only two nights there, with a drive of about eight hours each way. Because of my food issues, I wanted a place to stay with a kitchen so we were booked for our two nights at Suite Dreams. We got there and it was perfect — small, cozy, tucked away, lush with flowers. But we dumped our stuff and started exploring immediately, discussing (ha, finally!) what we wanted to do on our island vacation.

All the things? Yep. Or at least all the things that could be packed into 36 hours. So we went straight to the Southernmost point of the continental US. Honestly, on the map, it really did not seem to be the farthest south spot and it turns out it’s not! But close enough. Then we wandered by Hemingway’s house before walking around Duval Street talking about dinner. In my preconceived notions, slight as they were, I had pictured Duval Street as being something like Bourbon Street in New Orleans. Maybe it is sometimes, but not, apparently, at 7PM on a Tuesday in June. It was very mellow and peaceful. Because of my food problems, I’d already spent a while looking at restaurant reviews on TripAdvisor and found one that sounded great, except we needed reservations which we didn’t have. But hey, Tuesday in June, worth a try, right? We tried, got three seats at the bar, and ate incredible tapas at Santiagos.

I took pictures of the menu to remind myself later of the best food, but the easy winner was dates stuffed with goat cheese, wrapped in prosciutto, and grilled. We got it on our first round and liked it so much we had it a second time as a dessert. On our way home on Thursday, we stopped and picked up some goat cheese, and at 9PM, before we’d been home twenty minutes, I was stuffing dates. I’ve made them three times so far and still haven’t mastered them, but I intend to. (And yes, I’m allergic to cheese, but I’m willing to pay the price for these–they’re sweet, tangy, salty perfection.)

Back to Key West — stuffed and replete with delicious food, we headed back to Suite Dreams and Suzanne and I got serious about planning out our one complete day in Key West. One day is not a lot of time. All the things is an awful lot of things. Plus transportation between things, plus appropriate meal breaks… and possibly we shouldn’t have left our planning to the day before? But by the time we turned the lights off, we had a detailed schedule planned, including meals.

Our morning started with a kayaking Eco Tour with Lazy Dog Adventures. Perfect weather for kayaking and a lovely place for it. We got to see a surprising number of sea creatures, from sea cucumbers to jellyfish, plus birds galore. The kayaking was my pick — the thing I most wanted to do — and I loved it. If that had been all we did, it still would have been an amazing trip. But we weren’t even close to done!

Next we headed to Half Shell Raw Bar. R’s thing was oysters so I asked the tour guide on our kayak trip which of the two places we’d found she’d recommend. Half Shell sold local oysters, so we went there. The menu didn’t have a lot to offer a gluten-free eater, but we got 2 dozen oysters on the half shell, shared between us, and then I ate a side of veggies and a side of coleslaw while R and S ate po’boys that looked delicious. The restaurant was right on the water, with a picnic tables & fish nets ambiance, so also a fun environment.

After lunch, we went grocery-shopping. Weird, right? But we’d decided to have dinner in, both because no restaurant was going to top our Santiago’s experience and because our evening plans meant we’d be looking for dinner around 9. At the recommendation of our morning tour guide, we stopped at the Eaton Street Seafood Market. Great people there, plus a gluten-free single serving cheesecake! We wound up buying porgy (a fish I’d never heard of, much less eaten), a bottle of sauvignon blanc, the cheesecake for me and the cutest little tray of cupcakes for the gluten-eaters.

We needed to get our fish back to the hotel fridge, which then gave us a short window of time before heading out for our evening adventure. R thought about trying to find the beach, but we didn’t really have enough time, so he hung out in the room and S and I relaxed in the small hotel pool.

Next up, we strolled across the island to Sebago Water Sports for a sunset sail and snorkel trip. I still couldn’t tell you whether the kayaking or the sailing was the highlight of my trip. Partly it was because it was such perfect weather. I love sailing, but you know, sometimes the sun beats down and you get a headache. Sometimes it’s windy and you spend the whole time eating your hair and wishing you’d remembered your sunglasses. Sometimes it’s just that hint of chilly where you’re not cold enough to complain but you’re not comfortable either. And sometimes, you’re out on the ocean, surrounded by blue and beauty and the expanse of sea and sky, and you remember that the world holds magic. This trip was the latter. At least for me. Poor S gets seasick with incredible discretion — she doesn’t even turn green, just leans over the side, pukes, turns back around and resumes the conversation. And the snorkeling and sunset were seriously so good that it could have been an ad for the experience — big fish, colorful fish, warm water, gorgeous sky, green flash. It was magic, really.

After the sun set and we returned to shore, we wandered back to the hotel. I cooked the fish — sauteed in butter rescued from our lunchtime bread plates and sprinkled with take-out salt & pepper that our lunch waitress had kindly found for me — while Suzanne made the salad. I think I’ll find the picture, because it was ridiculously gorgeous and beyond delicious.

salad

The salad includes mixed greens, mango, strawberries, radishes, and avocado.

The next day, we wandered around a little bit more, then hopped in the car and drove home, stopping at the Key Deer Nature Preserve and taking a short hike (although the only deer we saw was by the side of the road, not in the preserve), checking out one of the sandal outlets that were everywhere, and eating lunch in Key Largo, the highlight of which was grilled shrimp wrapped in basil and prosciutto. We got home around 9, so really it was a 60-hour vacation if you include the drive. But the 36 hours actually in Key West were wonderful. Really just the kind of magic that you always want a vacation to be and that it never, ever, ever is.

Once home, stuff happened, life got a wee bit exciting, and two days later, I hopped on a plane to Pennsylvania, but that’s another story.

Magnolias

30 Tuesday Apr 2013

Posted by wyndes in Florida

≈ 2 Comments

2013-04-30 10.44.23

I can never remember when flowers bloom in Florida. It feels as if they’re blooming all year round, but they’re really not. Late April, though, is magnolia season. A few weeks from now, the white petals will turn brown and drop, littering people’s yards with debris that looks like dirty tissues. Not the best look. But a good reminder to appreciate them while they’re beautiful.

Magical Florida

27 Saturday Apr 2013

Posted by wyndes in Florida

≈ 7 Comments

I think my weirdest personality trait might be how much I enjoy giving presentations. If I could somehow synthesize the chemicals that flow through me when I’m in front of an audience, I bet I could create a nice addictive drug that would make millions of dollars. (From curing depression and anxiety, not just getting people high, if that matters.)

I spoke to a class at Full Sail today. So much fun. Great audience, too — interested and attentive and willing to be interactive. The presentation was a revised version of the one I gave a couple months ago. It’s getting better, but it’s not entirely right yet. There’s a process in creating a presentation that is about figuring out what you want to say and then figuring out how to say it and then how to show it. I still need to do a little work on the first part in order to smooth out the second and third.

One of the things that I talked about, though, was how good storytelling is basically good lying. Once you’ve learned how to lie well, you’re halfway to knowing how to tell a story well. And what better place to learn how to lie then from the people who try to determine whether you’re lying or not?

The FBI has lots of interesting information about interrogations and signs of truth or falsity. A condensed version (highly condensed) of one technique called Criteria-Based Content Analysis (CBCA) says that true stories (and therefore good lies) contain the following types of details:

    Context — details that place the story in a time and setting
    Sensory — sight, sound, smell, details that evoke physical sensation
    Emotional — people telling the truth about their own experience share how they felt, people reporting on an experience or making it up skip that
    Unusual, unexpected, superfluous — real events have details that surprise people and when someone is telling the truth, they share that detail

I tied that concept to Kurt Vonnegut’s line about every sentence in a story needs to move the action forward or reveal character, but I added a bit, making it “move the action forward or reveal character or relationships.” Those two ideas — about details and about sentence-level goals — might just add up to my ideas about how to write. Some people write books about the subject, but I think I might be two-thirds of the way to figuring out my own philosophy: Tell good lies in a way that Kurt Vonnegut would approve of. Funnily enough, I’m not actually a huge Vonnegut fan. He’s a great writer, of course, but I don’t want to live in his worlds. So maybe for me there’s another element about writing a world in which I want to live?

Speaking of which, one of the students asked how I picked the locations I wanted to write about. I don’t think I answered her question very well, because I went into an immediate digression about Florida. I’ve lived in a lot of places. Omitting Florida and in order of time spent: California, New York, Connecticut, Wisconsin, Illinois, London, British Columbia, the Virgin Islands, Washington. I’ve vacationed or visited even more, but I’m not going to bother with a list because it would take too long. There are plenty of countries I’ve never visited (all of Asia and Africa, for example!) but I’ve checked out most of the states one way or another.

That gives me the authority to say that Florida is magical, so what better place to set a magical story? I saw immediate skepticism, so I said, “No, no, really, Florida is magic. You walk outside of your house and there are these giant birds, like huge, and they’re just there, in your front yard.” Tom, the teacher, said, “For me, it was the lizards.” I nodded immediately. Florida is rife with lizards. They’re everywhere. And did you know that geckos chuckle? The noise a gecko makes is exactly like a smug little laugh. But I digress again — there were still dubious smirks on student faces, so I said, “I will prove it. I will prove that Florida is magic. I will find a photograph.”

Technology being what it is, it took me a minute, but I finally managed to pull up the following photo, which I showed each and every student on my phone. 2013-04-24 16.44.36

That bug is a scarlet-bodied moth wasp. It was flying around my bedroom the other day and when I finally got it outside, I took a picture.

Apart from being the prettiest bug you will ever see in your life, with its red body and lacy wings, the scarlet-bodied moth wasp has the amazing attribute of being the only bug that shares a chemical defense. “The adult male moth extracts toxins known as “pyrrolizidine alkaloids” from Dogfennel Eupatorium (Eupatorium capillifolium) and showers these toxins over the female prior to mating. This is the only insect known to transfer a chemical defense in this way. “ Is that not cool?

And definite proof, IMO, that Florida is magic. Tassamara is small potatoes compared to scarlet bugs that pretend to be wasps and have heroic males defending their mates via sprinkled pixie dust (um, pollen.)

Hawk

26 Friday Apr 2013

Posted by wyndes in Florida

≈ 2 Comments

Look closely. That speck on top of the chimney is a hawk.

Look closely. That speck on top of the chimney is a hawk.

Walking the dogs this morning and a hawk breezed over my head. Of course there was no possible way I was going to catch a picture of it in flight. Between juggling two dogs’ leashes and the two dogs tugging in different directions, I can barely manage a still picture. But it was kind enough to sit for a moment on a roof — just long enough for me to snap this picture — before zooming away again. You probably can’t even really see it — it’s the speck on the top of the roof.

This afternoon, though, I was on my home from the grocery store when I saw it again.* I took a quick picture, thinking it would move, then started walking toward it. Took another, and another, and another, and… you get the idea. This is the very last. I stood under its light-pole and it twisted its head what seemed like a full 180 degrees to stare down at me, then decided that I meant nothing and went back to relaxing.

2013-04-26 12.05.33

Hawks in flight are elegant, but this one, sitting still, looks plump and satisfied, like a country squire character in a Jane Austen novel.

*I say “it” as if there’s only one — I’d like to believe that it’s Joan the Hawk, the bird that R sees when he’s at school, just because I like the name they’ve given that hawk so much, but R says no, too small. Still, he thinks the neighborhood probably only has one hawk. It needs a name!

Crocs and iguanas and scorpions, oh, my

09 Tuesday Apr 2013

Posted by wyndes in Belize

≈ 1 Comment

crocodile image

From the porch of the house.

I promised a few animal pictures. This was the crocodile, in the water below the house. It seemed like a perfectly nice crocodile, as such creatures go, but I have to admit that I was a little nervous when I was hanging up laundry not ten feet away from where we’d seen it earlier in the day.

iguana picture

The iguana.

 

The first time I saw the iguana, I thought its head looked just like a mini t-rex. This picture doesn’t capture that perspective, but it was a pretty impressive iguana. Compared to the little geckos we have in Florida, it was godzilla.

Scorpion pic

A little blurry, but the mama scorpion in all her glory

The babies are too tiny to see, but apparently baby scorpions have a much nastier sting than the big ones because they deliver all their poison instead of reserving some for later. Isn’t that the kind of thing that would make you happy to know as you were falling asleep on the floor of the bedroom where you’d seen a host of baby scorpions earlier in the day? Poor R. But he toughed it out. I should make him a medal. Or give him a title of some sort — Sleeps with Scorpions?

Belize moments

03 Wednesday Apr 2013

Posted by wyndes in Belize

≈ 2 Comments

Some of my favorite photos and memories from Belize.

Osprey

An osprey with at least one young one in its nest on Caye Caulker

R loved the osprey. Two days into our trip, he said that watching it feed its baby would be his favorite memory.

Golf cart on Caye Caulker

Checking out the paintings on a house during our tour of the backroads of Caye Caulker

We rented a golf cart and explored the entire island at golf cart speed. The day we were supposed to pay for the boat ride, credit card machines were down throughout Belize, so most of the boaters had to go to the ATM to get cash. We got there first and when I walked out and saw the line, I felt guilty over having cleaned out the ATM of $50s. But S pointed out that if we’d been playing the Amazing Race, we would have just scored big.

Blurry R and me at hermit crabs

R and me having a moment of discovery

R found hermit crabs. Looking down into the shallow tidal pool, I spotted a couple, then a few more, then dozens, then maybe hundreds. They were everywhere. Later in the trip, I was in the water when something bit me, hard. I’m pretty sure it was a much bigger hermit crab. R said he saw a huge one.

 

Terry's Grill

Lunch at Terry’s Grill

Terry’s Grill — a guy with a grill and a picnic table on the beach, currently rated the #2 restaurant on Caye Caulker on TripAdvisor. I had the grilled shrimp and it was one of my favorite meals of a trip that included many, many good meals.

 

Rory and me on the boat

R and me sitting on the sailboat

The Ragga Queen took us down the coast to Placencia and reminded me of how much I love being out on the ocean. I could spend endless hours watching water, lost in my daydreams. Someday, although maybe in 2014 at the rate at which I’m currently writing, I’ll be working on a book called “A Lonely Magic” about a girl named Fen (nicknamed) who finds out the world is a much bigger place than she ever imagined when she meets a boy on a Chicago street and gets whisked off into his life. Credit will be due the lovely hours on the Ragga Queen, cradled in the waves.

 

Tobacco Caye tents

Those tents look even tinier in the picture than they did in real life

Our tents on Tobacco Caye. I’m not sure I’d actually call the tents a favorite memory: wow, it was hot and uncomfortable during the night. But wandering the island and snorkeling, sitting on the dock with R, watching the birds swoop down for the fish guts and the rays glide by in the water — lots of good stuff about the island.

 

Bicycle parking

Bicycle parking at the Tipsy Tuna

Placencia. We didn’t ride bicycles, but the colors and the sign are a pretty perfect representation of the town. It used to be isolated — the only way to get there was over a dirt road that killed cars quickly or by boat. But Francis Ford Coppola built some fancy resort up the coast in Maya Beach and started a building boom. Five years from now Placencia might be awful — totally touristy, completely artificial. But at the moment, it felt like a magical little town, colorful and bright and cheerful.

 

Me and Suzanne on the back, coconut basil mojito

Our last afternoon, sitting in beach chairs, watching the water and drinking tropical fruity drinks

That drink between S and me is a coconut basil mojito. I tried it because it sounded so weird, it was impossible to resist. It was delicious, although heavy on the greenery. Maybe all the basil made it healthy?

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