Go upstairs and check for giant water bugs and rats. None, thats good. Screens are intact, no holes chewed through them, no banana carnage or hoards of ants trying to lug a crispy carcass up the wall.
Refill the bird bowl with sugar, they're already waiting, I barely got my hand away. Clean the hummingbird feeder and refill. Breakfast. George gets coffee down the road at Sena's Market. Sena's has 5 things, coffee is one of them, "Bugles" chips are another.
Catch up on email, read, prune some shrubs and weeds, check the crabs, find the lost pruning saw, think about Conservancy work.
Part Two: George asks "Want to DO SOMETHING?"
We go into town to get propane and groceries. Halfway there we realize we forgot the propane tank. Oh well. Stop for gas ($4.47 a gal) at the only gas station on island. Lunch at SunDog café down at Mongoose. My favorite is the veggie burger with aioli sauce. Yum!
A cruise ship is in (Tuesday) and town is busy. Cruise ships don't stop at Cruz Bay, travelers are brought over from St Thomas for a day excursion. Most of them go shopping or take a taxi tour. From our table we can watch the people parade by, it's better than a movie.
We hit Starfish and Dolphin Markets, but are still short - both are out of laundry detergent. We forgot the tuna but I don't want to go back. What we didnt get will go on the ongoing list for another stop another day. Patience.
The local animal shelter has set up their pet adoption cages in the atrium, 2 island kittens. They will arrange the airline paperwork, the carry on crate and all medical if you take one home. They have very short hair, almost like touching their skin when you stroke them. They have to wear sweaters or a couple t shirts when you take them north (provided) . I think their fur would grow long after a while in the States.
Paradise Lumber was out of propane. The lovely island girl says "he'll be here any minute now", which usually means they have no idea, maybe Friday. She shrugs and smiles. So no cooking again (day 4). George thinks she's the best clerk on the island.
Part Three: Do conservation work, emails to our counterparts at the Land Conservancy of the VI on St Croix and note taking for the press release. Maybe a trip to STX is in order? My brain is already dull as a row of gravestones and the words aren't coming. I refill the sugar feeder. More reading and thinking, wondering if I should DO SOMETHING. Now I'm watching the boats go by.
George made an origami Nook holder.
Su has assigned me my character for the Murder Mystery Dinner, apparently I will have an anger management problem.
At 4.45 I drive back to town for yoga class. There was grid lock at the Coral Bay triangle, a herd of sheep, cars backed up, cars idling side by side so their drivers could chat, groups of people standing around inexplicably. No one was moving except the sheep. On the way I pick up a hitcher, a young woman getting off work. Hitch-hiking is not only safe and acceptable but a valid way of getting around here. Sometimes the hitchers give you dirty looks as if they are entitled to a ride instead of it being a favor, but sometimes you just don't feel like talking or stopping. You'd think you were a bad person the way they turn to follow you as you go past, making eye contact. Dark sunglasses help. There is a bus system but its unreliable, the bus is often broken down but no one knows that, so they wait till someone asks if they need a ride. It could take hours to go 8 miles to town form Coral Bay.
I decide to return home on the North Shore Road. There are no street lights, just the bright moon. You dont need lights it's so bright. Sometimes there is a dark human slowly walking the dark road, like an apparition, a Jumbie. Large fruit bats swoop down on my headlights to snatch white moths, just me and the soft night air. I think of the Colonists and the slaves on nights like this, their spirits are everywhere. It's as if I'm the only person alive - I en de ghost dem.
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