Missing the Mother Ship

I'm sitting here this morning contemplating my "itch du jour". Wondering if it is bug bite, heat rash, fungus, parasite, or undecided. Which in turn determines how hard to scratch and which cream to apply.

Missing the Mother ship. i.e. the capitol city on the main island. Which is no Nirvana but does contain some delicacies. I haven't had a hair cut since November. (There are three white ladies on our island. Hardly enough to promote a hairdresser specialty. But oh, man the plaiting (braids/cornrows) they can do! I have a whole photo album of them.) Not to mention the color, which has progressed over time from brown to calico (no kidding) to more-salt-than-pepper. My glasses are crooked and I can't seem to get them straight. Bah! to professional appearance.

I ran out of ground coffee weeks ago. Instant isn't even close. Hubby makes our own pizza (thanks for the recipe and demo, Amy!), but it won't be the same without pepperoni. Or decent cheeses. We're on our last jars of salsa, olives, pickles, and chunky peanut butter. And our last bag of wheat flour, which goes into the bread, mango sweet bread, cookies, etc.

Also missing the PC Office with its camaraderie and lending library. I just finished my 50th book since this adventure began. (I'm an accountant - keeping track is what I do.)

No, it's not Cameroon. Or Kenya. But we sure aren't in Kansas any more. (Not that we ever were - just coining a phrase.)

What we do have is TEN fresh eggs in the refrigerator from our very own hens and several fresh tomatoes, peanuts, and sweet potatoes from our very own garden. The sky is an incredible blue with puffy white clouds floating by on their journey west. A breeze is rustling the palm trees and sugar cane and keeping us cool. The amazing Caribbean Sea is a 40-minute bicycle ride away. And the Internet connection in our own home. Without which we would have gone Stark Raving Mad long ago. Tugging us in that direction are the neighbors' boom boxes blaring soca (or calypso or ?) beginning at 6am and usually - but not always - ending before midnight.

And our Projects! Hubby's students are finally interested and engaged (hallelujah) in their own carpentry projects. He is known as "bat man" because of the dozens of cricket bats (for the sport, not the insect) he has made from scrap wood and given to the little kids. He has recently completed a beautiful cabinet for "my" handicraft center to display and sell our hand-made souvenirs. I look forward to filling it Tuesday with the goodies that have, until now, been "displayed" in a plastic bag in the corner of the Tourism office. The papaya jam from my demos last week (papayas donated by a really nice lady!) was a success - we're almost sold out. This week I'm demonstrating candles made from beeswax that was graciously donated by a local beekeeper. Melt (always use a double boiler), strain, pour into half-coconut shells and voila! They're lovely. Some sewing lessons along the way, and I get to sing, learn, pray, and play with bunches of delightful - if undisciplined (but they are learning) - kids at church club on Thursday afternoons.

Ah, yes. Some day after time performs its gentle sifting and sorting we may remember these as halcyon days and miss our own little island.