Home Sweet Home

I WANT TO GO HOME

I was not too worried about Mrs.T.  She had called me after her arrival and briefed me on the situation as preparations were beginning.  She indicated that the hotel seemed well-prepared; I misunderstood that she said there was a storm shelter.  More importantly, Rebecca seems to always muddle through.  She is resilient.  And she has a 'I-am-a-nice-person' aura and people always like her - someone would be certain to help her out.  Rebecca would eventually pair up with Nickie, her Guardian Angel.  I did worry a bit that she could run out of medicine and then her mental state would change.  But otherwise I figured she would be okay.   But yes, I did try to contact her routinely although I knew the communications had been essentially destroyed.

Irma has passed.  The people of Tortola, similar to those of USVI and now Puerto Rico, were less than satisfied with the response of their government, the 'B' in BVI.  But Rebecca and the small band at Sebastian's needed to push ahead and get through each day.  And Rebecca wanted to get back to Philo.  She and the others did not yet know about Maria and how small was the time window for her to leave.  Here is the final installment of her vacation adventure:

When I was allowed outside I walked along the beach picking up shells.  Beachcombing was fabulous. (Sebastian's is quite literally on the beach.  -dt) I have never seen so much coral of many different kinds on a beach.  There was brain coral, tremendous globes. There were great sheets of sea fans.  There was elkhorn coral and many other kinds.  Shells were everywhere.  They were nice big shells that were of many different kinds.  Of course there was housing debris everywhere  I didn't pick up tiles, but then it would take weeks (probably months -dt) for the tiles and sea glass to be polished by the waves.

At night we had a supper of little rolls with a small lump of tuna with sweet pepper.  This was our first protein in several days.  It was delicious.  We also had cookies and fresh figs.  For drink we had tea.  I am not really sure exactly what food we had which day; you get the idea we were eating light but somewhat bland meals,  Wanda left me the ginger snaps and peanut butter so I munched on that now and then.  They drank wine every night.  Anyway we got by.

The day after the road opened Wanda called me excitedly to talk to her friend.  This lady had a phone that worked.  I don't know for sure or if she had a satellite phone or what.  She had a stenographer's notebook full of messages people wanted sent.  I wrote down Dan's number with the message 'Rebecca is okay'.  I hoped it got through.  (I did get the message  -dt) Wanda had already called someone but we did not know if it got through.  This seemed more possible.

One morning the big yellow shovel was back.  It was digging a humongous hole in the land across the road.  Then it started dragging all kinds of debris and putting it down in the hole.  They are going to bury it I thought.  But no; they lit a big fire.  Since it was down in the hole it did not spread.  That night as I looked out I could see a line of big fires all along the beach. There was always a person or two watching the fire and throwing on more stuff as it burned down. Although by this time the Royal Marines and Engineers were there, I was impressed by how hard the local people worked clearing the roads and cleaning up after the hurricane.

One day a person named Keith showed up to see how I was doing.  Keith worked for the tourist board.  Wanda and I told Keith that I was almost out of medicine and also I would like to go home.  There still were not any commercial flights, only military and charter.  Well Keith would take me downtown and see what he could work out. (Sebastian's is some distance from the major city, Road Town.  -dt) First Keith took me to the hospital and got me in line to see the doctor.  Keith was going to get in the line for gasoline.  If I was done with the doctor I should wait at the hospital and he would pick me up.  Well in a couple of hours Keith came back but I was still waiting.  Keith got me a sandwich and some water.  Then Keith was going to get in the line to buy water.  When Keith came back from buying water I was still waiting but getting nearer the head of the line.  When I saw the very nice doctor she gave me a ten-day prescription for all of my medicines except one for which she substituted something else.  Then I had to go to the pharmacy to wait in line to buy my medicines.  All of them together cost $33, which I thought was quite reasonable.

Then Keith tried to find out about getting me home.  There was a rumor that there was going to be a boat to take Americans home but no one knew for sure or any details.  Then Keith tried to find me a place to stay downtown near the dock.  One dock was open by then.  But there was no room in the inn or in any hotel either.  Keith took me back to Sebastian's.  

The next day Wanda was going to take me to the dock to try and get on this hypothetical ship home.  I had too much stuff to carry a long distance by myself and everything had to fit into one bag.  I agreed to leave my fins and most of my diving stuff.  Wanda promised she would mail them to me later.  But I had to get rid of more stuff.  I picked out a nice collection of shirts and underwear that Wanda would give to some needy fat lady.  I deposited most of my funds in the bank of Rebecca.  I was going to deposit my credit cards there too but that would be uncomfortable.  Wanda said they could be replaced if there were a problem.   But I flatly refused to give up the shells I had collected.  

Wanda drove me to the area of the dock and left me in the car while she went out to scout around.  There was a fair number of people hanging  around but no line and no one knew if there would be a boat or not.  The ferry office was closed.  Wanda met Nickie who was waiting for the boat.  Nickie was one of the ladies who sheltered with us during the storm.  Nickie agreed to help me and try and get me on the boat if one did appear.  I was beginning to feel like the bad card everyone passes around in the game Old Maid.  The benches were all full so I was sitting on a thing they tie ship lines around to secure them to the dock; I forget the word for it.  (Mooring post  -dt)  It was very hot.  After a while some guys picked up a bench some old lady was sitting on and moved it so it would be in the shade.  Nickie chased some kids off it so I could sit in the shade also.

Nickie asked me if I had a phone.  I told her I did but it did not work; it had gotten wet in the hurricane.  It used AT&T.  At that time that was the only network that worked on the island.  Nickie is quite technological.  She took my phone apart, wiped off all the parts with a hankie.  She took out a big box (The battery -dt)  and two little boxes (The memory  -dt) and then she put it all back together.  The phone came on but said it needed electricity.  Nickie asked if I had my charger.  Amazingly I did.  (Yes, amazing  -dt)  "Don't worry," Nickie said, "I'll get some electricity!"  Shortly after that the two ladies who ran the ferry office arrived and one of them was Nickie's aunt.  We got plugged in and took turns calling everybody.  First I called Dan.  We both had been worried about each other.  I could only say I was okay and was waiting for a boat that might come to take me home.  Nickie called and told her grandfather approximately the same thing.  Nickie is an American citizen but her family is from BVI.  (Her grandfather was in Miami -dt)

But before we could make any more of our many phone calls something very exciting occurred.  Nickie's aunt got a phone call with more official info.  There was going to be a boat - it was a cruise ship - to take distressed Americans home from St. Thomas.  There was a ferry to leave Tortola to take passengers to the ship; only American citizens could go.  You must be on the LIST.  About then Keith showed up.  He knew about the list but did not know how to get on it.

Well we were both American citizens, but how do we get on the LIST?  Auntie did not know.  A number of bribes were offered by crowd members to no avail.  Updates came through periodically.  Green cards did not work.  No dogs  or pets were allowed.   Service animals were allowed.  Some people said they had called the embassy for help.  The crowd was restless.  What about Australians?  An American school group had a few students from others countries  - what about them?   Finally another call came.  People at the ferry office could sell tickets to anyone on the LIST or anyone who could show them a valid US passport.  Of course Nickie soon got her ticket and grabbed my passport to get a ticket for me.  But here's the thing: I was already on the LIST!  To this day I don't know why. (Probably due to her trip to the hospital  -dt) The phone number of the LIST was announced and was immediately tied up.

We still had to wait hours until the ferry left.  It was supposed to be there in two hours but we were afraid to leave so we did not miss it.  It was so very HOT! Two different people gave me bottles of water.  This made a total of four bottles I had drank.  I think either the people of BVI are very kind or I looked like a desiccated wreck - probably both.  We heard that we were going to be on a cruise ship.  I was ready.  (About this time I receive a call from Nickie's grandmother and another from Keith asking if R was okay.  -dt)

Finally the ferry came.  There was some to-do with people who were not on the LIST who tried to get on the ferry.  But we had tickets and were official.  The ferry's name was Native Son.  Nickie carried my bag which was kind of heavy what with shells and all.  And I dragged hers which had wheels.  Nickie and Wanda were especially nice to me. (And commendable work by Keith.  -dt)  Sometimes it is almost worth it being old.  Nickie and Wanda are both young and enthusiastic.  Nickie is an auditor.

At the dock we saw another of  Nickie's aunts and her grandmother.  There were lots of hugs all around. Nickie wanted to go and pick up stuff to take back but Grandma said "Absolutely not; you are not taking a chance on missing this boat!" So there were more hugs and Nickie and I got on the ferry to St. Thomas.

In St. Thomas we boarded the Norwegian Sky after being checked off the LIST.  They immediately gave us sandwiches and pop which we and everyone else ate enthusiastically.  We were told this was a snack; supper would be later.  Watching our fellow passengers I figured I was not the only one who had been eating light for the last week  Then we went to our room to take showers.  OH SHOWERS!!  It was wonderful!  I think we would have both taken second showers if the announcement for dinner had not come.

The cruise ship was large and confusing but Nickie has a great sense of direction. (Something Mrs.T definitely lacks.  -dt)  The food was plain but plentiful: sandwiches, hamburgers, and hot dogs at every meal. Lots of fruits but no dessert unless you count jello or nut bread.  At first we were so grateful for food we didn't care.  The ship was paid for by FEMA but after a couple of days I was ready for a menu change. (Fortunately the ship reached Miami about then  -dt)

Evidently someone had decided that no one could say we were enjoying entertainment because we weren't.  I can understand no floor shows but no movies seemed a bit extreme.   By the second day they relented and reopened the children's program for the sanity of everyone.  What really annoyed me was that they locked up all the books in the library.

Meanwhile Nickie and I were making phone calls telling everyone we were finally coming home.  Nickie was calling determinedly trying to find a flight home for me from Miami and I was taking lots of showers.  Astoundingly Nickie succeeded.  After we docked I had only a short flight and I was in Columbus.  I thought about kissing the airport floor but I figured I couldn't get back up.  And then I kissed Dan.

There you have it - Mrs.T happily reached home.  We hope you all enjoyed and were informed by this first-person account of Irma.  Nickie has thoughtfully called routinely to check on Rebecca; it seems that she really does have a new angel looking over her. The editor looks forward to meeting her sometime.  We hope to communicate with Wanda and James soon to see how recovery is going.  Please keep these and the many other folks affected by recent weather events in your thoughts and prayers.  They have many months of work ahead to get back to normal.

A technical note:  We now have approximately 300 correspondents in our distribution list.  Emailing is a bit complicated and sometimes someone is missed or overlook.  I apologize if you did not receive all three parts of the Irma saga, but you can see them - and other adventures - at the blog page.  Please let me know if you are changing your email address or if you would like to be removed from our list.  And you are welcome to distribute our stories or recommend other people to add.

Best wishes to all.

Our winter home beckons.

Dan and Rebecca

www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com

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IRMA - PART TWO

OUT OF THE EYE

Mrs.T's story continues.  Many of you were captivated by Part One of her encounter with Irma.  And although it has been over a week since she returned, the episode still holds a grip on her.   As the eye passed through there was more to come:

As the sky darkened, the noise of the wind increased to a small roar.  Wanda served everyone a glass of water.  The building would shake or tremble when debris or water crashed into it,  We had a small flashlight for comfort more than illumination.  The two guest ladies, Nickie (R was not sure what spelling you preferred.  - dt)  and the other one I didn't know, were talking to Wanda about mutual acquaintances.  The four guys and I said pretty much nothing.  I noticed that water had begun to seep under the doorway.  At first it was still a sheen, then an inch, then two.   The storm surge was rising.  I began to imagine the water rising over our heads and us floating out to sea.  BOOM, pause, BOOM, pause, BOOM, pause - the waves shook the building. I looked down and the water was rising over my ankles. Victor was sitting in the chair next to mine. I held out my hand to Victor,  "Do you want me to help you up, Princess?" he asked.   Victor always called me princess.  "I want you to hold my hand," I replied.  "I am a little nervous." "Of course," Victor answered.  I sat there holding Victor's big, strong, brown hand.  BOOM, pause, BOOM, pause, BOOM, pause.  The water continued to rise.  Eventually the sound of the waves quieted and the the water stopped rising.  I thanked Victor and he assured me I could hold his hand any time.  Slowly the water receded and the wind abated.

I don't remember lying down. But when I woke during the night, I was lying on one side of the bed with Ally beside me in her carrier then Wanda, and then James.  Ally gave a dissatisfied yowl.  "I know " I whispered comfortingly, "I know."  Everyone else was sprawled around the room with pillows and blankets on chairs and the floor. This was how it used to be when we visited aunts and uncles when I was a child.  It is going to be okay I thought as I drifted back to sleep.

When I awoke I heard Victor muttering something about 'looter' as he clanged about in the room next door.  I concluded that he was bringing his pots and pans, and stuff upstairs in an effort to save them.  I think it was James who said something about Rebecca.  And Wanda said, "I'll take care of her."  Would someone want to loot me I wondered.  Would they think I was a rich white person?  Silly looters.

Wanda brought in my breakfast.  It was ½ cup of oatmeal, three cookies, ¼ of an apple, and a cup of tea.  The oatmeal was made with cold water so it was kind of soggy and chewy.  The tea was hot they must have had a battery operated coffeemaker. (Probably a small propane heater  -dt)  Under the  circumstances it was better than I would have expected.  I thanked Wanda sincerely.  I think maybe she was pleasantly surprised, having expected complaints.  I figured Wanda was feeding the four of us so we each got ¼ of an apple.  She was an excellent quartermaster for our meager rations which had been pooled among us.

"Rebecca," Wanda explained " a lot of the hotel has been blown down and torn up.  So James and Victor and I will be very busy trying to clean it up and save what we can."  "I want to help," was my immediate response.  I'm afraid there is lots of broken glass, and nails and things and if you got hurt we could not get you to the doctor because the roads are blocked.  I want you to stay in your room today and lock the door.  Don't let anyone in but James or Victor or me.  "May I have the radio to listen to?" I asked.  "Of course, Wanda replied..  It worked on batteries and had only one station.  When I got tired of it would I turn it off to save the batteries.  Did I need anything?  Wanda left me two bottles, one of Coke and one of water,  If I got hurt or anything I should stick my head out the window and yell real loud.   Nobody was fooling me.  You don't need to lock the door to keep[ out broken glass.  It was those looters.

I looked out the back window and saw a lot of young men wandering around.  Several of them had bags or backpacks.  Victor was arguing with one who slunk away.  Three or four got together and started rooting through the debris where the restaurant had been. (Part of Sebastian's  -dt) Every so often one would stop and put something in his bag.

I turned on the radio.  The news was first.  There was no electricity on the island.   It had all been intentionally turned off before the storm hit.  This would prevent accidents and make it easier to turn power back on.  Second there was no water.  People should use seawater to flush toilets and bottled water to drink.  It was against emergency law to sell food, water, or building materials at inflated prices.  There was a $200 fine for each offence. (BVI uses US dollars -dt)  Third, there should be no looting.  The police had emergency powers.  There was a strict curfew from 6pm to noon.  All schools were closed.  All commercial establishments should observe the curfew.  The airport was closed.  All three harbors were closed.  The hospital was open.  More news in twenty minutes.  Then there was light island music for a while.  When  you got sick of that there was gospel music for a while.  Then there was light classical music.  After that there was a repeat of news.  It was the same except it listed two roads that were now open.  Do not go to the hospital unless you are sick or hurt the radio commanded.  Also the Queen is thinking of you and is sending help.  The Queen is sending Royal Marines and Engineers and supplies.

It was nice the Queen was thinking of us I suppose.  After all old ladies have to think of something.  I thought they really meant the government of the UK.  But I could be wrong; I have read about all these Royal charities. Maybe some of that was really coming our way.  I was tired of  the radio.  I took out  my little sudoku book and did a few puzzles.  And fell asleep.

Lunch was six cookies, a handful of walnuts, and half of an orange.  We got a small glass of orange carrot juice to drink.  It was enough.  I asked how it was going.  James reported they had two rooms cleaned and boarded up.  Victor mumbled something about looters.  Could I help?  No not today.  Victor remarked that it would be better when the Marines got here.  Those looters were afraid of them.  The Marines had big guns.  No one was afraid of the police.  Was there anything I wanted?  I asked for books.  After lunch I went to sleep.

When I woke up I thought about looters.  After every emergency there seems to be lawlessness.  If your house is blown away and when you go to the store they charge you $6 for a gallon of water,  there seems to be a certain Jean Valjean justification for looting.  (Of course things are always more expensive on an island even in good times  -dt)  But last week in the BVI there was a makeup store called Glam that was emptied from floor to ceiling.  Explain that.  At Sebastians looters took TVs from some of the rooms even  though there was no electricity and would not be for months.

James and Wanda and Victor were afraid of the looters.  Fourteen people had moved into one of the downstairs rooms and declared it theirs.  A bunch of young men came and went at will in another room.  White people in general were a target; white people who had lived there for while, like James, seemed to be exempt to me.  In Jost Van Dyke, a smaller island in BVI,  there reportedly were armed gangs of young men who were going into homes and stores and taking what they wanted.  We all waited for the Royal Marines.  

Supper was six cookies, ¼ of an apple, and some walnuts.  We had grapefruit soda to drink.  One of my pills that I take for anxiety had gotten wet and crumbled to a powder.  I was distraught.  Wanda scraped out a little bit of the powder into my hand and told me to eat that.  I felt much better.  Wanda could handle anything.  I had my own room to sleep in.  James and Wanda were next door and Victor on the other side.  I slept restlessly.  I woke  in the night and heard men's voices singing.  It turned out that some of the looters had found liquor from the bar and were having a party.

The next day a big yellow shovel came and spent time pushing all the trees and broken buildings and trash off the road.  The shovel belonged to the brother of a lady who lived down  the troad.  We were no longer trapped.  I saw one of our neighbors getting a delivery.  A boat came in fairly close to shore.  A paddleboard was put down beside it.  A bunch of boxes were loaded on the paddleboard.  A guy from the boat swam to shore pushing the board where someone was waiting to get the delivery.  Now the road was open Victor and James went to town to see if they could get anything.  It took them hours of waiting to get water and gasoline and an odd combination of groceries.  They found three pounds of spaghetti and two jars of pasta sauce.  Also two cans of tuna fish, a jar of beets, and a box of kitty litter.  Wanda was very good at making a little go a long way.  We decided to have a pasta party.  James was going to invite some of the looters in an effort to make friends with them.  We were all excited about having pasta.  Our chef Victor found some herbs to add to the sauce.  James reported it was pretty calm downtown and Wanda could go shopping next time, but not me.  Sigh.

As you have read above, after Irma's passing began the new phase of the aftermath.  Rebecca still had a few more days on Tortola.  She had to deal with some other challenges there including getting back to the mainland.  She will finish that in Part Three.  Writing this should have a cathartic effect.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Mrs.T Mexico had an 8.1 quake offshore of Oaxaca and Chiapas and was felt all the way to Mexico City.  Our friends L&J visiting the capital at the time were literally shook up by it but thankfully unharmed.  And since then there was the 7.1 temblor right in the capital which left hundreds dead.  Our hearts go out to all that suffered.  Bucerias has not been impacted.

As we have witnessed, shortly thereafter Maria devastated Puerto Rico.  Rebecca says Tortola looked even worse after Irma.  Although not directly hit, Tortola was also traversed by Maria - a cruel one-two punch.  Much smaller Tortola has many fewer resources than Puerto Rico.  We await an update on their situation.

And we do not want to forget our friends in Houston impacted by Harvey.  It seems a distant zephyr now.  But we know they are at the beginning of a longer recovery.  Fortunately access is much easier on the continent.

We need to respect Mother Nature.  Could there be more hurricanes or quakes in the offing?

Dan and Rebecca

www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com

Sent from Outlook

Irma - Part One

BAD TIMING

Many if not most of you think of Mrs. T as a 'woman of adventure'.  And she does have a streak of doing things a bit out of the norm.  But much of this stems from her lack of sitzfleich - she just cannot sit still sometimes.  And she is working her 'bucket list' - my bucket has a hole in it.  There is also her need to get away from the mundane, i.e., the editor.  So occasionally she goes on a solo vacation or maybe with a small group of women friends.  Sometimes she has a great time and sometimes things end up with a bit of tragedy.  Remember the broken leg at the end of the whale shark adventure?  Well, she felt the urge recently and she erred.  Here is the first part of a long essay about her recent trip.

Well I had been under a lot of stress. (Probably caused by the editor  -dt) One of my friends suggested a vacation.  I talked to Dan about it.  He was not going to take a - rude word - vacation. ('Darn' is a rude word for R.  -dt)  So I decided to go by myself.  One of my favorite things is SCUBA diving. (The real reason I did not go  -dt)  I looked on the internet the best places for diving in the Caribbean were Saba, the British Virgin Islands and some others.  The safest  (Low crime  -dt) places to visit included the British Virgin Islands (BVI)  whose language was English and money was the US dollar.  Well I signed up for a week for a nice little hotel on the beach. (Her travel agent made the arrangements.  -dt) There was a little storm developing out by Africa but it would probably not go near the BVI.

The next week as he drove me to the airport Dan remarked, "I'm not sure you should go the way that storm is growing."  "Oh I'll be fine I replied ," confidently.  If you ever want me to do something tell me I shouldn't.  (Amen to that -dt) Besides I was still a little grumpy that he wouldn't go.  By the time I landed the storm had a name, Irma, and was headed towards the BVI.

Several hours later when I arrived at Sebastian's on the Beach  preparations were under way.  The owners suggested I have a good meal before the hurricane came.  Although I wasn't very hungry I had a burger and fries.  Victor the chef, a huge soft-spoken bronze man, was busy packing his pans and utensils.  The meal he made for me was simple and delicious.  In fact it was very life sustaining although I did not know it at the time.  All the people at Sebastian's said I was a very brave lady.  In fact  you might substitute the word silly for brave; oh well.  Everyone else except two tall Americans had cancelled their bookings.

The things is, to get to BVI I had to take 3 different airplanes with waiting in between as the prognosis of the storm got worse for BVI and I was unaware.  When I arrived Irma was already rated as a number 4 and the revised storm path had the eye coming right over Tortola where I was staying.  OOPS!!  As far as my plans for SCUBA diving, I could forget about that because all the dive boats filled up some extra cans of gas and motored away as far and as fast as possible.  Boats that didn't leave mostly ended up in the middle of the island upside down.  There was one place that was called hurricane bay where it was supposed to be safe to anchor to ride out a storm.  Alas not so.  Several boats that tested this theory  disappeared completely and have not been seen since.

After my supper Wanda and James,the proprietors of Sebastian's, told me they had moved me from a first floor room to a second floor room.  My new room had a concrete roof so it should not fly off.  Well that was good.  They failed to explain that the second floor room was good because the storm surge, the wave of high water, was expected to be over 20 feet.  In this case a second floor room was a very good idea.  Also the room had stormproof windows.  I was all set.  As I started unpacking I decided not to put anything in the bottom drawers of the dresser just in case.  

When I unpacked I found a necklace that Dan had slipped into my bag.  This day was my 67th birthday.  I called to thank him and to report that I had arrived safely.  I wandered downstairs and a lady asked me if I wanted to buy any hurricane supplies from their little store. I thought about it.  After Irma arrived there might be no electricity.  And no water!!!

I bought a lot of packets of crackers and cookies, called biscuits for some reason (It is the British Virgin Islands  -dt), maybe 8 packets each holding 8 to 10 biskies.  I bought a jar of peanut butter.  I bought a large plastic jar, about a quart, of tiny ginger snaps. I bought three candy bars.  And to drink I bought a large size bottle of water - two liter;  it was the last water they had except 20 liter bottles.  I bought 4 cans of PEPSI and two plastic 1-liter plastic bottles of COKE.  I bought 4 glass bottles of a grapefruit drink.  I had no can opener for these.  I bought four 12 oz bottles of juice drink - two of carrot orange, one of carrot mango, one of pear Hawaiian punch.  I was pretty sure I would not like these - I would be wrong.  I figured I was prepared for a couple of days - how long could it be - wrong again.    These supplies cost over $40.   

I was settling in when Victor and some other guy came up with two 5-gallon buckets of seawater for flushing.  They also brought up 3 plastic gallons of drinking water.  I think this is when the birthday flowers from Dan arrived.  It was a large bowl of yellow roses and some tropical pink flowers.  Everyone was impressed.  I put them on my dresser.  I felt loved.  I knew I would be okay now.  I arranged my small bag with my passport, my money, my credit cards, and my medicine around my neck.  I got my two books to read.  Wanda came up to give me my instructions and my key.

First of all I was perfectly safe.  The roofs never came off when they were made of concrete.  This turned out to be untrue but my roof stayed on.  Irma had been upgraded to a level 5, the highest intensity hurricane.  It had 190 mph winds.  The eye was supposed to come right over where we were.  When it did it would seem like the hurricane was over but it was not.  I was not to come out until  Wanda or James or Victor came for me.  I would be all right.  Wanda gave me the key and told me to lock the door when she left and not to let in anyone but her or James or Victor.

No one told me why this was but I knew.  After the hurricane came LOOTING.  I moved the food close to the bed opened a can of PEPSI and a candy bar.  I peered out the window, which was clearly labeled storm proof.  The wind had picked up but there was not much rain.  I kept my shoes on as I lay down and tried to read.  I could not pay attention to the book and I kept getting up to peer out the window.  I decided this hurricane was not going to amount to much.  I hoped it at least had an eye; I was wrong again.  I decided to use the potty while it was still flushable.  I peeked out the tiny bathroom window and saw there was no surge under us yet.  This was good.

I tried to read but that proved difficult as the wind noise kept getting louder.  Suddenly there was a huge crash and I saw a large tree fly by.  A couple seconds later a big flat blue thing that I thought was a roof sailed by. "We are not in Kansas anymore," I thought.  The rain suddenly fell in sheets which the wind swirled in patterns like curtains blowing.  CRACK!!  CRASH!!  BANG!!! The two large stormproof windows, broke out shattered and were gone.  A sheet of rain washed over me.  The wind blew my breath away.  "Oh SH_T!" I thought.  I frantically grabbed all my crackers and  drinks and retreated to the bathroom.  I yanked shut the door which was resisting until the latch caught.  I peered cautiously out the small window which was intact.  The water was rising rapidly. Every few seconds there was a clear view and each time this happened there were fewer houses and trees in sight. What had been a beautiful tropical neighborhood with flowers and trees and gayly colored houses was turning into a rocky moonscape littered with broken houses and trees.  The Sebastian trembled as each wave crashed against the lower floor.  Thank goodness I was on the second floor.  Then slowly the winds quieted and the rain stopped.  The water drained away.  We were in the eye.  I noticed that I was breathing fast as if I had been running.  So much for being a brave lady I thought as I tried to concentrate on breathing slowly.  I probably should do something but I couldn't think what.  Don't go out I remembered.

"Rebecca are you OK?" Wanda called."Yes," I replied.  "We are going to move you to the room next door.  Its windows did not break," Wanda explained. I emerged from the bathroom.  The mattress was torn from the bed and lay twisted on the floor waterlogged and covered with shattered glass.  The bedspread was stretched across one side of the room.  My flower arrangement was still beautiful and intact.  My phone was damp and did not work.  The book I had been reading was in soaked clumps of pages.  As I poured water and glass from my duffle bag I noticed that there was an inch or two of water on the floor.  It came in the windows I thought.  The waves did not get that high.  Wanda and I stuffed all my undamaged stuff in the duffle.  We brought in my dive equipment and my flowers too.  Victor arranged all my food and drink with a large pile already on the desk in one corner.  Victor's window had broken too.  The roof had blown off Wanda and James's place so the four of us were holed up in the one undamaged room.  Also there was Ally who was Wanda's cat.  James was carting up buckets of flushing water.  Victor was bringing food and water.  Wanda was bringing dry pillows and blankets  I sat on the bed trying to breathe slowly.  Ally, every few minutes would let loose one very grumpy meow.  She did not like this hurricane one bit and she expected us to make it stop.  It was beginning to get darker and the wind was picking up when a lady whose house had blown completely away showed up asking for shelter.  In the next few minutes three more refugees appeared.  The eye had passed and the second half of Irma was upon us.

Thus ends the first part of Mrs.T's essay on the Irma adventure.  Still more harrowing things to come.  And I was concerned that Irma was headed towards Rachel's in north-central Florida.  Plus Harvey had recently paid a visit to our friend JT land her family just west of Houston; she seems to have gotten through that relatively unscathed thankfully.  And Mexico had deadly earthquakes; nothing untoward in Bucerias.

To see pictures and other stories of Irma in Tortola check out the BBC, The Guardian - https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/sep/17/tortola-hurricane-irma-british-virgin-islands  , or other British news services.

As you can guess Rebecca eventually made it back to Philo.  But that is for the next parts of the story.; I will be encouraging her to write more while things are still fresh in her memory.  Stay tuned and feel free to share.

Dan and Rebecca

www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com

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FULL CALENDAR

SPRINGING ON DOCTORS

 

Over the last year your editor had been hit with a spate of health issues, some minor and some of concern.  Many of you know about the March hospitalization for a bleeding ulcer; I did not even know I had an ulcer.  And let me tell you that the health care in Mexico is excellent.  I lost about 20 pounds and have reduced my medications considerably, particularly no NSAIDs which probably caused the ulcer problem.  Since our return I have had lots of followups with physicians here in the US.  Quite a bit of our time has been consumed going from one appointment or test to the next.  And there are still more on the schedule.  But we have done fun things as well.  The Muse has not been up to writing, preferring to work on her many outside garden projects.  But finally I cajoled her into providing a bit of an update.

 

 

 

This summer has been a summer of doctors. (Actually the spring -dt) Dan had seven doctors last count.  It may be six because his pain doctor gave up on him.  ('Gave up' is not quite correct; he said I was doing fine and could just call if I became worse.  -dt) He refuses to take opioids, for which I have to admire him, but the groaning is getting on my nerves. (R exaggerates -dt)  Perhaps he is improving but slowly.  I used to take a nice pain medicine called Vioxx for my arthritis but they stopped making it.  I think you can still get something like it in Mexico.  We both fear his next arthritis attack.  Dan has therapy which seems to make him more mobile.  Of course his heart doctor is waiting on his tummy doctor.  You can't get an appointment with his eye doctor (No problem with the optometrist -dt) for months. And for his myasthenia gravis it took months even to locate a doctor and then you wait more months to see a nurse.  We have been  watching on the news about the healthcare bill.  I don't pretend to know the answer but I will swear there is a problem.  I'm thinking maybe we should use the pocketbook solution:

 

Doctor:  How much money is in your pocketbook?

Patient:  This much.

Doctor:  Hand it over.

 

That way we might not eat for a day or two but it would be a national weight loss program too.  This would be a good thing as most of us are a little tubby.  Just kidding -- I think.

 

Dan and I went to visit Nick - our son - in Wisconsin.  We enjoyed seeing where he lives and works.  Nick took us to an outdoor production of Midsummer Night's Dream.  It was really magical to watch the play on a warm June evening under the open sky.  We also visited the University of Wisconsin Arboretum.  I was pleased to find how many of the trees and flowers I remembered after so many years; it was like meeting old friends.  We toured part of the UW Chazen Museum of Art.  There was a traveling exhibit about the Samurai I especially enjoyed.  Of course I was at my usual slow pace because I stopped to read most of the signs.  Dan was limping along much faster but we each enjoyed it in our own way.  Since we were visiting Wisconsin we stopped to buy some cheese.  As a certified cheese addict I bought three large hunks to bring home with me.  Two of them are gone already.  Dan bought some for himself.  He is safe because he bought stinky old cheese which I don't like. (Mrs.T does not appreciate the fine taste of a good blue cheese. -dt)  I did catch him sneaking a bite of my cheddar. We visited the ceramic studio Nick works at in his spare time.  We had a good time.

 

After visiting Nick Dan and I went to an art workshop at Touchstone Center for Crafts. ( http://www.touchstonecrafts.org/ -dt) This workshop was about printmaking.  Dan and I were taking the same class.  This is usually a very bad idea because Dan spends too much time and effort telling me what I am doing wrong.  This not only annoys me a great deal but also slows him down on his own paltry (Hmmphf!  - not sure about that assessment.  -dt) efforts.  This class was different.  Roger started us off doing monoprints. (Using Gelli printing plates - dt)  I knew how to do this.  And Dan was immediately successful so spent most of his time on his own work. (Our instructor was Roger Hyndman - www.solarprintmaking.com  -dt)

Solarprintmaking.com - Dates, Times & Locations www.solarprintmaking.com NANOART Solarplate and Monotype Printmaking - A Microscopic Perspective Description - Science has rapidly progressed into sub-atomic space. It is now possible for ...

Touchstone Center for Crafts - Home www.touchstonecrafts.org Offers classes in pioneer arts. Includes descriptions, schedule, registration, hours, calendar of events, local attractions and directions.

 

The second day we made metal plates for printing off a press.  The process was a little complicated.  Select and edit a print;.45 seconds exposure for this gel; 25 seconds for the metal plate.  Scrub with cool water for one minute.  Rinse scrub for 30 seconds.  Rinse and dry.  Set in the sun for 20 minutes. Then hopefully you have your plate, and are ready to ink and print. (There were actually a few more steps, but that is the general idea. -dt)  Here's the thing: Dan was too busy doing all this that he did not have time to annoy me.  If and when I needed help Roger was glad to help.  I did have to kind of shout at him because Roger is a little deaf.  So picture this: the other two students are busy, one editing a print the other timing a light, and I am bawling pathetically "ROGER! ROGER!" When that doesn't work Dan shouts in stentorian tones "Roger, Please help Rebecca"  Roger immediately trots over to help me.  Perhaps I should mention that Roger is 80 years old but very fit and competent. (Think of the Walter Huston character, Howard, in Treasure of the Sierra Madre  -dt)  He might occasionally be forgetful but...what was I saying.  Anyway, in spite of all this we all made gorgeous prints.  Of course mine were the best.  I was so excited I felt like hugging Roger.  So I did.  Over the next few days we all made several more prints and metal plates.  We printed in three different colors of ink: black, brown, and green.  Dan even made prints with two colors on the same print.  We had a great time but after five days we were tired and ready to go home.  (We hope to get to Phoenix Rising - phoenixrisingprintmaking.org - to do some followup.  -dt)

 

I did have a complaint about accommodations.  Our house is not palatial but it suits us and when I wake up in the middle of the night I know where the bathroom is.  I had a problem with this in our hotel. (Mrs.T confused it with our house at first and then with the condo.  She does not adjust to travel quickly.  -dt)  Our hotel in Pennsylvania, selected on the basis of economy (And location -dt) was basic.  Next time we are moving up a star or two.  (It was not that bad -dt)

 

A few weeks ago I was going on a road ride with my dear Jewel, the Belgian horse I usually ride, and a couple of other riders.  Jewel was behaving nicely but she was letting me know that she would like to go a bit faster.  These horses are trained to respond to three different kinds of commands.  They respond to your legs and seat knowing by the way you sit whether to go faster or slower or stop.  They respond to little clucking noises. And they respond to verbal commands.  For instance 'TROT' means trot.  Considering Jewels impatience I turned to the rider next to me and said,  "Jewel would like to go faster. Do you think it would be okay if we trot?"  And we were off!  

 

Jewel heard the trot command and hastened to obey.  I understood what had happened and did not have the heart to slow her down.So we trotted a little way and then slowed to wait for the others to catch up.  They were of course wondering why we suddenly took off.  I alas am a slow learner.  " Well," I explained, "Jewel heard the word trot…"   And we were off!  Again. When the others caught up a second time I explained more carefully, "When I say the word T   R   O   T",  I spelled carefully, "Jewel is going to do it."  My friends examined me thoughtfully.  In fact Jewel gazed at me back over her shoulder, probably wishing she could spell.  "So that's your story," one said.  "Well the other replied this is a nice straight place, why don't you let her do it?"

 

"Jewel!  TROT", I said.  And we were off.

 

 

Here are some photos - no doctors:

https://www.flickr.com/gp/9151458@N07/X578JA

 

Hope everyone had a wonderful 4th.

Dan and Rebecca

www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com

Casa de Terrible - blogspot.com www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com I have been around the block. I'm a veteran in this market. I was making my subscribers profits through both Bush, Obama and now Trump. Back in the Bush Sr. days, I ...

 

 

 

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MORE ON PERU

PERU

You should forgive Mrs.T if this is her second story about Peru although it sounds as if maybe is should have been first.  I think that she was so enthralled about the trip to Machu Picchu that she had to get that out right away.  She had a very nice vacation with her sisters and other family.

This story has been somewhat delayed due to some significant health issues suffered by the editor.  He is on the mend now.  I heartedly thank family and members of the Jacarandas community for all their support and well wishes during that time.  Perhaps the next issue of the newsletter will have a description.

Well, onto Rebecca's account of other aspects of her trip:

Rita and I flew to Peru to visit our niece Alana and her family.  Her husband Charlie works for the state department at the American Embassy in Lima. They have two little girls, the eldest is Mia and the youngest one is Madeline.  I couldn't resist!  (You try to decode that statement.  -dt)

Alana was the perfect hostess she had lined up all different kinds of things for us to see and do.  Charlie was funny and charming.  Having three sexagenarians as guests - Ruth was already staying with the family - might have challenged many but we all got along well.  We always felt welcome.

Alana's helper Miss Flor had just taken a month off.  This left the girls in the situation of having to get their own breakfasts.  They did not miss being waited on so much as just the attention.  As I was the earliest riser among the old ladies I ate with them.  I entertained them and they me.

"Why do old people take so many pills?" one of the girls asked as she watched me sort my pill bottles.

"Maybe because they hurt so much," I replied

"They hurt soo much!," Madeline, who is going through a parrot phase replied sympathetically.

Of course with parrot children you have to be very cautious what you say because it will be spouted back at you often at unfortunate times.  

"What are the pills for?" they asked.

"Well, these are for my tummy, these are for arthritis, these are for anxiety, these are for being sad, these ---"  I was interrupted.

"Why are you sad, Aunt Rebecca?" Mia asked'

"Because she hurts soo much," Madeline replied.

The causes of depression are many and complicated so I just nodded in agreement and continued with the list.

"These are for when old ladies feel too hot, these are for my heart, and these are vitamins," I concluded.

The girls helped me pick out a purple vitamin out of my jar of over the counter medicines.  It is sometimes hard for me to pick one out because of my shaky hands.

"Why are your hands so shaky, Aunt Rebecca?" Mia asked.

"Well I don't know," I replied.  "Why do you suppose that is?"   I almost never refuse to answer questions from children; if I don't know I admit it.  Sometimes their insights are quite amazing.  However in this case not so.

"Because you hurt soo much," Madeline replied.

The girls helped me get my breakfast.  They brought me a banana.  Mia very carefully poured me some lemonade.  They helped me pick out my cereal.

"This kind is really good," Mia explained, "this kind is OK, and this kind tastes bad, only Madeline will eat it!"

"I really don't like it either," Madeline confessed. (!)

I chose the really good kind. And it was really good.  We were ready to start our day.  Most of my days started this way except by the third day the girls were telling me "that pill is for your tummy; that one is for anxiety, etc."

Rita, Ruth, and I ate our way around Peru.  The food was excellent and exotic.  We ate local fruits  that we had never seen.  Some we liked a lot; some was barely palatable.  I had somehow expected that being another Spanish speaking country the food would be similar to Mexican but it was not.  I did however refuse to eat guinea pig.  They are just too cute and fuzzy.

I did try the pink beer.  It was okay if you like beer.  They make it from purple corn. The corn in Peru is in short fat ears with very large kernels. It comes in a lot of different colors.  The amazing thing is the size of it when they pop it like popcorn.

We went to a horse show of a special breed of Peruvian horses.  These horses have only one gait. They lift each leg one at a time. To go faster they do it faster.  It is beautiful to see them.  This gait is very smooth.  These horses are born knowing to walk and run this way.  They do not trot or gallop.  They brought out a colt and sure enough he pranced around the same way.  While we were watching they brought us French fried yucca leaves with a yellow fruit sauce.  We loved it!  We had a feast at the hacienda after the show.  

The feast had all different kinds of food.  We sampled as many as we could.  There were many potato appetizers.  They featured little squares of mashed potatoes of different colors with little shrimp, veggies, meats on top.  We thought it was a little odd that they would color their potatoes bright purple, bright pink, bright green, and bright yellow.  But we were wrong.  They have over three hundred kinds of potatoes of all different colors.  I think this was where I had a pink lemonade smoothie which was made with cooked purple corn.  It was delicious.

Every day was a different adventure.  We visited a really neat museum,  Larco or something like that.  It had signs in lots of different languages; to find one in English we looked for one beside the Union Jack.  As a visually challenged old person I wished the printing was a little larger.  We visited different sites of native peoples.  We rode on the top of open air tour bus.  Charlie took us on a tour of the embassy which was interesting as well as inspiring.  Rita and I took a pottery class.  And everywhere we went we shopped.  We felt it was our duty to support the local economy.  And we were enthusiastically dutiful.  (She certainly was, including duties on the item she had shipped to the condo.  -dt)

In the evenings we entertained the younger generations with stories of our youth.  I soon noticed a disturbing pattern in these reminiscences.  They all seemed to feature "Aunt Rebecca" doing strange or embarrassing things when she was very young.  (She is still at it.  -dt) Well!  I had some memories of my own.  I then related the sad tale of my childhood.  I was the youngest of three girls.  Before the advent of video games we had to amuse ourselves.  I always got the short end of the stick.  When we played house Ruth was the mother, Rita was the father, and I was the child.  When we played school Ruth was the teacher, Rita was the principal, and I was the bad child.  When we played church Ruth was the song leader, Rita was the preacher, and I was the congregation.  When we played doctor Ruth was the nurse, Rita was the doctor, and I was the sick child.  When we played Christmas Ruth was Mary, Rita was Joseph, and I was Baby Jesus.  Unfortunately this did not work out too well because Ruth and Rita somehow managed to stuff me into the manger where we fed our cows but they could not get me out.  They went away and left me!!  Although I can't recall, I imagine our Mother was not pleased.  Charlie said I should be thankful we did not play funeral because I would certainly have been the corpse.  At any rate these stories had a rapt audience with the girls.  Whether we will regret it remains to be seen.

Subsequent to Mrs.T's departure the remainder of the clan went on to explore the Amazon River jungle area of Peru.  I have included just a few pictures from that part because there are better pictures of the girls, Alana, and Charlie:

https://www.flickr.com/gp/9151458@N07/WJ8SJ2

We will be seeing you folks up north before too long.  It looks like rain is in the forecast.

Dan and Rebecca

www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com

Casa de Terrible www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com Rebecca thought she would write another story about our recent travels in England. (Please visit our blog space www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com if you did not see ...

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Mrs. T's Southern Adventure

As most of you know we are currently in residence at our Mexican home.  We will return north in time for Rebecca to see her flowers begin to bloom and to file our taxes.  But while here Rebecca decided to make a trek to Peru to scratch an item off her bucket list.

The genesis of this trip is a bit convoluted.  Mrs.T's sister Ruth - she has not appeared in our newsletter often - has a son-in-law who works for the U.S. State Department and is currently posted in Peru.  Rita, the third sister, was already visiting here and the three sisters decided they would gather in Peru for a get together.  (Your editor decided the stress would be too much and stayed at home. -dt)  The trip was greatly aided by Charlie and Alana who did a splendid job and much of the heavy lifting to coordinate things.  Many thanks.

Here is the story:

The Three R's (Readin' Ruth, 'Ritin' Rita and little 'Rithmetic Sue - that's me - ride again.  My sisters and I journeyed to and around Peru visiting family, seeing the sights, and enjoying the different culture.  The people were very friendly and seemed to enjoy us also.  

Ruth and I climbed the Inca ruins at Machu Picchu.  (Rita was unable to make that part of the trip.  -dt)  First you ride this small train.  Then you come to a village that exists solely to prey upon the tourists.  Note the picture of Ruth and I wearing Inca crowns.  You may imagine that with age comes a sense of dignity.  Wrong!  Adam who is Ruth's son and a fireman came along.  He was really sweet about carrying our bags, took lots of pictures of us, and helped us up and down steep places.  (He is the tall bald guy in several photos.  -dt)

There were lots of steep places around Machu Picchu which is in the Andes Mountains.  Ruth and I were worried about altitude sickness.  So we took altitude pills, and oxygen pills which our niece gave us.  We also drank vile tasting coca tea which was supposed to give us more energy. And finally whenever we felt a little tired or out of breath we sucked coca candies.  The coca tea and candy are made from the same plant as cocaine.  I know nothing about cocaine, but if it tastes as bad as the tea I don't see how anyone could become addicted.  Something in all of our pharmacopeia must have worked because Ruth and I climbed up and down approximately two million, seven hundred eighty-two thousand, three hundred and nine very tall steps.  Here is a question.  If the Inca were a short people - and we know they were because they made short doors in their buildings - why did they make such tall steps?

Ruth and I, after a light breakfast and several cups of coca tea rode the bus up the mountain.  Adam had risen at some ridiculous hour and skipped up the mountain to view the sunrise from the top!  We, however, wended our stately way, propped up by two canes apiece.  Ruth carried a small backpack with two bottles of water.  I had my pockets stuffed with coca candies and soles, Peruvian money.  (R might be in the hoosegow if she brought those coca leaves and candies back with her.  -dt)

As we approached  the gate we were accosted by several guides.  "I am the perfect guide for you ladies," one claimed.  We viewed him suspiciously.  He looked very young and fit; perhaps we needed someone older and slower.  "I know lots of shortcuts so you can go to the important temples without climbing so many steps," he claimed.  "I know lots of flat stones you can sit on if you get tired."  "I will go very slowly and stop so you can rest and take pictures," he promised.  This was the guide for us!  After some brief dickering as to the price we took off.

The air was thin and cool.  The tall mountains touched the sky.  The great stone wings of the Condor sky god pointed from his temple to his lofty realms.  People of many tribes and races come to Machu Picchu.  What do they seek: a new experience, a different sight?   Ruth and I slowly made our way across the terraces, stopping now and then to rest on flat stones.  We climbed the tall steps to to see the temples.  The stone walls remained with empty windows facing down over the terraces to the valley.  Llamas grazed contentedly as the passing of centuries did not concern them.  We breathed the clear cool air.  Then we went down.

Rebecca did not take any pictures but other members of the party did - 1500+ in all.  I culled through them and picked a representative handful:

https://www.flickr.com/gp/9151458@N07/C687H5

And yes the local folks know tourists when they see them; the three R's dropped a few soles during their visit.

See some of you in the spring.

Dan and Rebecca

www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com

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