tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47082301408273552042024-03-15T16:22:26.676+00:00~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Life Afloat ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~We have no house, but we have a home -- a 33-foot sailboat where we live, work, play, and explore! (formerly "Life Afloat" Archives)Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10932996643116086264noreply@blogger.comBlogger489125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-65163942123754761582024-03-15T16:21:00.001+00:002024-03-15T16:21:36.620+00:00I'm Still Not Tired of Street Art (But This is the Last Batch, from This Trip Anyway)<p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxF26js1_8U03aJWLp2riPoO-KX60uTDR5KsqBfdcIBsRVY3O5U94_hTgyuD_M7j9rmJVTJbDbe8B1eFzWNMACFxd7FbVYR577F2zMfuqlUyEcN3fe0ZZ-0MXYSFNnxV5L-UszsBOOTfPBRas6X-v9s8K1BOtmDs5R-AKst87PvCdezVBZPaVvTksbTN8/s4032/IMG_6970.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxF26js1_8U03aJWLp2riPoO-KX60uTDR5KsqBfdcIBsRVY3O5U94_hTgyuD_M7j9rmJVTJbDbe8B1eFzWNMACFxd7FbVYR577F2zMfuqlUyEcN3fe0ZZ-0MXYSFNnxV5L-UszsBOOTfPBRas6X-v9s8K1BOtmDs5R-AKst87PvCdezVBZPaVvTksbTN8/s320/IMG_6970.JPG" width="320" /></a></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98oBwsm7Aeg5nGOx4oxmPnkZdHJRHvhoMjm9Gt7nTP2BdqBPmGoMhc1LpTzxR80S3iufp6KkDs-GFZICVUj7Wy4AUH7aJT0AVXFta7nDrISxp6DBTLa8EXlfT3MracKw1LnVkxDqJOPY2crbG-Zyfa9PLoLKNzPSg1zZDN5vROr_OxRBuLxHicQqkXZk/s4032/IMG_6947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98oBwsm7Aeg5nGOx4oxmPnkZdHJRHvhoMjm9Gt7nTP2BdqBPmGoMhc1LpTzxR80S3iufp6KkDs-GFZICVUj7Wy4AUH7aJT0AVXFta7nDrISxp6DBTLa8EXlfT3MracKw1LnVkxDqJOPY2crbG-Zyfa9PLoLKNzPSg1zZDN5vROr_OxRBuLxHicQqkXZk/s320/IMG_6947.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFDfBGEDPxmE6om8oeBIse1qbypMQUmEEhDQ1eK67YfCRjgPIZ0jPKOkl99wVBk06jRvAdRmhSXUD-ZfrODeDngxclWOt7bnT5x-ZLIxFhFlltstPdnVacOKPi86nDD3bEGqtyMATDDbwQMgZrZSxsvM66paVm64TKzWuwxIQbleHRTyoFaGAXImRygk/s4032/IMG_6944.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFDfBGEDPxmE6om8oeBIse1qbypMQUmEEhDQ1eK67YfCRjgPIZ0jPKOkl99wVBk06jRvAdRmhSXUD-ZfrODeDngxclWOt7bnT5x-ZLIxFhFlltstPdnVacOKPi86nDD3bEGqtyMATDDbwQMgZrZSxsvM66paVm64TKzWuwxIQbleHRTyoFaGAXImRygk/s320/IMG_6944.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrox6DcfjGL1Druy170v5ZhqETTKv4LnW6J0PevxqJg_UFO8Vse0qvhT4KDsOUTmYL6HhnghIJ_5YHNveCDjT20Zi_vY2euEN5DqjH8itPDhQsTjgdPO7wLQ-mWwkhfIfvw46MHP-zo8RL2bxIh8zzeFiXrnrdWzhkkBHFyafuqYOadC5gbOFu3GAtQ_E/s4032/IMG_6939.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrox6DcfjGL1Druy170v5ZhqETTKv4LnW6J0PevxqJg_UFO8Vse0qvhT4KDsOUTmYL6HhnghIJ_5YHNveCDjT20Zi_vY2euEN5DqjH8itPDhQsTjgdPO7wLQ-mWwkhfIfvw46MHP-zo8RL2bxIh8zzeFiXrnrdWzhkkBHFyafuqYOadC5gbOFu3GAtQ_E/s320/IMG_6939.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remember I mentioned the red-light district?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrWwE_Q6Xzm9v5vpg7Q_iF-f_3LWhFnOcNjwJjhVg7McCXnAjaIKevPS4ELVm3YnEaFuCXgTHUTgWi_oaXKMn1gjzIUjBSFiVLCYiymHNeC4MiBRH7gQXZWmupg7_3s7AsFnWlIUckUhiKxvQhzCNW-u_KXVh_HRHhotdPZIqa4AmuJ6WPcnKBS5J0hPo/s4032/IMG_6935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrWwE_Q6Xzm9v5vpg7Q_iF-f_3LWhFnOcNjwJjhVg7McCXnAjaIKevPS4ELVm3YnEaFuCXgTHUTgWi_oaXKMn1gjzIUjBSFiVLCYiymHNeC4MiBRH7gQXZWmupg7_3s7AsFnWlIUckUhiKxvQhzCNW-u_KXVh_HRHhotdPZIqa4AmuJ6WPcnKBS5J0hPo/s320/IMG_6935.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love that this one was painted to look like there were open cutouts, and today the sky and clouds cooperated to enhance the illusion.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3c3tz-sxeXjOqAOL5447N7uoPJO1Xm_ryGY2J_uK1pu0qBBg2JUjKHIe7VOKf55RmTn_cXZG7EJKDf8Ny5Uzf-EZ7Z_MSIy7lEGU0kua8e_JXB2xQo4C3C6zpu89_8xsySOIOs7dl_yCs9a3GUV2QRAAvRgWECY6f0L7lHCyXbmk5LChUzko0o4dRDZI/s4032/IMG_6924.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3c3tz-sxeXjOqAOL5447N7uoPJO1Xm_ryGY2J_uK1pu0qBBg2JUjKHIe7VOKf55RmTn_cXZG7EJKDf8Ny5Uzf-EZ7Z_MSIy7lEGU0kua8e_JXB2xQo4C3C6zpu89_8xsySOIOs7dl_yCs9a3GUV2QRAAvRgWECY6f0L7lHCyXbmk5LChUzko0o4dRDZI/s320/IMG_6924.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2_H5rrpwdrFManvvJTJhZs9Zti_hY8AV3SHi7L9ecN4Ni92DAVZe9ATJZNR5QOINTPUEvoGgBhaF04uZohhqRor3EylXLR8YCQkpc5zLWAhua2821jjuskFOcCcaANQBh3Ik9k-kWat5E2-8HKr7j-l7PGyRqM2PLlRZswLVG6n0VUw8J-P0nBcVqDY/s4032/IMG_6922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2_H5rrpwdrFManvvJTJhZs9Zti_hY8AV3SHi7L9ecN4Ni92DAVZe9ATJZNR5QOINTPUEvoGgBhaF04uZohhqRor3EylXLR8YCQkpc5zLWAhua2821jjuskFOcCcaANQBh3Ik9k-kWat5E2-8HKr7j-l7PGyRqM2PLlRZswLVG6n0VUw8J-P0nBcVqDY/s320/IMG_6922.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caribbean on top with the Carnival theme, but African on the bottom.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVlgBg-kGfqedm-jFHcII0yWHE7U7aCHSswWmffgfI5PYrObAi-WEvd0vmc61nQ0DzNHTFB0plA-Kob6T3FRNDe4u9KT94QWI48c6SyaPUpt2-r6sxU5qfsL_VFJ84UKjoDauilH2ca-zAv6VWe5O7h1BH-dSSkj7yJx04IkIpi_DAazYNshSe4ak2dc/s4032/IMG_6920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVlgBg-kGfqedm-jFHcII0yWHE7U7aCHSswWmffgfI5PYrObAi-WEvd0vmc61nQ0DzNHTFB0plA-Kob6T3FRNDe4u9KT94QWI48c6SyaPUpt2-r6sxU5qfsL_VFJ84UKjoDauilH2ca-zAv6VWe5O7h1BH-dSSkj7yJx04IkIpi_DAazYNshSe4ak2dc/s320/IMG_6920.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kinda touristy but we had to. All the symbols are island sights -- the lighthouse, the red anchor, the chapel, the windmill, etc.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcTM_IMtPfFah6pkxiHYe5zq2ZwtwmgkPMasultIR5NvzLbo9iPUIKWGwvfuCu08qqwhmsbM5aViXc14wmxHOH2JpdP3NmHfdBbYuZf7vuWZ26kQIxAAdqotSTGanxRKLaSdotqslA6q-AUvz9Pd8ISbLUFKGxGH2wAj3qQ8C_mYBVgSozcrXjuZj9i3g/s4032/IMG_6960.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcTM_IMtPfFah6pkxiHYe5zq2ZwtwmgkPMasultIR5NvzLbo9iPUIKWGwvfuCu08qqwhmsbM5aViXc14wmxHOH2JpdP3NmHfdBbYuZf7vuWZ26kQIxAAdqotSTGanxRKLaSdotqslA6q-AUvz9Pd8ISbLUFKGxGH2wAj3qQ8C_mYBVgSozcrXjuZj9i3g/s320/IMG_6960.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSa5BgUDwMr5lLaJAGerAf-J3-glv-LPiK_UkW4_AST7oI7aI_13ufg3WcjO9LLANpYRgjLGaiU5czPIuG_-ocps5dhDOsZvP51shyphenhyphenMB5isCV5qBUXgjoUjPIsbLNQpuZdIog_JPM7V4Ih1Wn4Y6VnPW2VxjHs_2II9XMZWArRKN9R2a3Z62pCeXSqElo/s4032/IMG_6959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSa5BgUDwMr5lLaJAGerAf-J3-glv-LPiK_UkW4_AST7oI7aI_13ufg3WcjO9LLANpYRgjLGaiU5czPIuG_-ocps5dhDOsZvP51shyphenhyphenMB5isCV5qBUXgjoUjPIsbLNQpuZdIog_JPM7V4Ih1Wn4Y6VnPW2VxjHs_2II9XMZWArRKN9R2a3Z62pCeXSqElo/s320/IMG_6959.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguDl4-jzyxZT0hTFXbZoFKl7LjfO_UyeFaM9VuOY5FvFA1CZGKx7DT_cxxWxupwA9I0Jpqp65Nni0w1TI0y_hcTBxu0v86IlHKOgvYstPSNULEjhAvHiF0DxhkaX3xKd2X5GcTLDR42xOPJR4HSwI18FuwGDTmGXNWn9g2H6RfEACwgMiQIzmJFRb1lKY/s4032/IMG_6958.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguDl4-jzyxZT0hTFXbZoFKl7LjfO_UyeFaM9VuOY5FvFA1CZGKx7DT_cxxWxupwA9I0Jpqp65Nni0w1TI0y_hcTBxu0v86IlHKOgvYstPSNULEjhAvHiF0DxhkaX3xKd2X5GcTLDR42xOPJR4HSwI18FuwGDTmGXNWn9g2H6RfEACwgMiQIzmJFRb1lKY/s320/IMG_6958.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Nostalgia" -- the refinery and aloe plants</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDxZromUIjav-BM4AZRw3-n60qnb12PuL-5zJbx5DRzU_QkG4DdSlmon2Ely81Q5BbAP_ozTosyxoK8TBkuWIdq7HvE4yHW_utN6t-brAOudVV4S3uQtTBV6i8ZQOwW6v2i6SLMVXEBVtJZczB5XeU3-I770URqCRdxIxd1k-U3ClBsPd1mTQBqTAtOQ/s4032/IMG_6957.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDxZromUIjav-BM4AZRw3-n60qnb12PuL-5zJbx5DRzU_QkG4DdSlmon2Ely81Q5BbAP_ozTosyxoK8TBkuWIdq7HvE4yHW_utN6t-brAOudVV4S3uQtTBV6i8ZQOwW6v2i6SLMVXEBVtJZczB5XeU3-I770URqCRdxIxd1k-U3ClBsPd1mTQBqTAtOQ/s320/IMG_6957.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This pair of herons uses the same technique as the previous red/blue quarantine mural but unfortunately my image through the filters didn't work out. Still cool though!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB1k8FcnM_nY5i1qcCd7gGMEtamUA0d25u-H1ZyZnAl-pWA2n5Z7OMhTifGaUfMdxBP92azyU7noUM3SgekvYnL3Q6n1EKOOwmBSffvnDpBUmT_ROhqf0eWxoH60Rx7luxKxw7WukSWAMJ6NF5XvlwVNRLNSW8nwlkUqyhH26kP76p2cHCJ4cz9GCk2Wk/s4032/IMG_6956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB1k8FcnM_nY5i1qcCd7gGMEtamUA0d25u-H1ZyZnAl-pWA2n5Z7OMhTifGaUfMdxBP92azyU7noUM3SgekvYnL3Q6n1EKOOwmBSffvnDpBUmT_ROhqf0eWxoH60Rx7luxKxw7WukSWAMJ6NF5XvlwVNRLNSW8nwlkUqyhH26kP76p2cHCJ4cz9GCk2Wk/s320/IMG_6956.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzWcv6DSFuicxJXQNQ3KTcF1vxtrbov4dxY8QJx8Y9Y3P4_IY1Nt0SUiX8sYlGSYC95r85aIlUDozyrwgZOB7UZ_Hy0za814Vde-FLCYrQwmMJY_InIk14wl4v19DaRdfsxPv-aeVzOCCjG-jbyiyOAJYyeVW78wLET94Y6mNNizdP-4NzjdU9_OFOLcQ/s4032/IMG_6954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzWcv6DSFuicxJXQNQ3KTcF1vxtrbov4dxY8QJx8Y9Y3P4_IY1Nt0SUiX8sYlGSYC95r85aIlUDozyrwgZOB7UZ_Hy0za814Vde-FLCYrQwmMJY_InIk14wl4v19DaRdfsxPv-aeVzOCCjG-jbyiyOAJYyeVW78wLET94Y6mNNizdP-4NzjdU9_OFOLcQ/s320/IMG_6954.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9rfUy5vNKWDCQDVZeYWxjsC2DFj3nzIZUpf6By550Tl-Cu1RGCyld92DQxIJUK8vdTLOfEI1Q5ocrbRrFvEnV1aU1ZALzwh7tMGP_RDI6-ntUFY_HyLjISbBUkev5DE8_mf1bby-aweNqpCkYk2q1ZfQWlEXlrwxuBS9PcWlfK0thyphenhyphenk4eqhWMGndT3-8/s4032/IMG_6948.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9rfUy5vNKWDCQDVZeYWxjsC2DFj3nzIZUpf6By550Tl-Cu1RGCyld92DQxIJUK8vdTLOfEI1Q5ocrbRrFvEnV1aU1ZALzwh7tMGP_RDI6-ntUFY_HyLjISbBUkev5DE8_mf1bby-aweNqpCkYk2q1ZfQWlEXlrwxuBS9PcWlfK0thyphenhyphenk4eqhWMGndT3-8/s320/IMG_6948.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixhLkX9M38UwNwzp9C71ctMVtVTl0LY5M32zo-w-2_X2D78UbyMeRjwk39lvqYDX2N48G-Y90ZT4A4eS2aRTFpoHwp5C-X2HmxIxGx_I_v7UR2O6PnJnGF4_MIxgVuEoNmmQ04cG5hCshwvE2wJkGuDvJYjnT19_5DPSSEDcEi2V6V3aCJuxc_e_JJZHM/s4032/IMG_6942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixhLkX9M38UwNwzp9C71ctMVtVTl0LY5M32zo-w-2_X2D78UbyMeRjwk39lvqYDX2N48G-Y90ZT4A4eS2aRTFpoHwp5C-X2HmxIxGx_I_v7UR2O6PnJnGF4_MIxgVuEoNmmQ04cG5hCshwvE2wJkGuDvJYjnT19_5DPSSEDcEi2V6V3aCJuxc_e_JJZHM/s320/IMG_6942.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This representation of an aloe plant, painted with island symbols, is made of PVC and located at the corner of a gas station. Art is <i>everywhere</i>!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0NisyjnSGO7wm7uV8P1LgZTOlsr5VPtn32JDtaQn3rpYL3Rqgae6Ha7QTM1nDvVWnArMG7BaNQVxzfio01949EtwZjJc-HpOMmqrZHggGm_Kx9pArtnSIA2RVgm6n2XfKCnpcamwmEthxPtAbSsLaWkmA9P77G_J1SgytDAp7NNy46RK3hz9PrF63pgA/s4032/IMG_6965.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0NisyjnSGO7wm7uV8P1LgZTOlsr5VPtn32JDtaQn3rpYL3Rqgae6Ha7QTM1nDvVWnArMG7BaNQVxzfio01949EtwZjJc-HpOMmqrZHggGm_Kx9pArtnSIA2RVgm6n2XfKCnpcamwmEthxPtAbSsLaWkmA9P77G_J1SgytDAp7NNy46RK3hz9PrF63pgA/s320/IMG_6965.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The warrior, "Our Defender"</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR4zSwIsHfnaj_QAP2FhgF153VEUEI8EubzwAnpptRrxskOgOEVMl0Yu_T-VjnHDoEjf6sLhgeZTPLLtwSN8sPZJv3Yxci8XdcLNAVD9Wnt2jsc_jVSOd9JOkX8eCsT-lr9m1RzscmgaE1iUuKcfT3FR5Jy22bhrTsIjpSTiuKw65SFeVjTl4ddkZGFmM/s4032/IMG_6967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR4zSwIsHfnaj_QAP2FhgF153VEUEI8EubzwAnpptRrxskOgOEVMl0Yu_T-VjnHDoEjf6sLhgeZTPLLtwSN8sPZJv3Yxci8XdcLNAVD9Wnt2jsc_jVSOd9JOkX8eCsT-lr9m1RzscmgaE1iUuKcfT3FR5Jy22bhrTsIjpSTiuKw65SFeVjTl4ddkZGFmM/s320/IMG_6967.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyF9p5SU3pNWT1Z_lyZvlED4WuYCrD5gg4Ah7jrMUccTPwx_ueO37H5cDs5ueQ2x_ESv3QpQ9QOZRhgEtvxBo-PTC8lPIxhhdKRrJEwuk66AguXUtr1a9-x3tTRA7tCr4ep2mgVgfaE_beucIPOX9YRRTI9QWWBBKnrcwvvXKqfN__efOx0QrXQSw8cKA/s4032/IMG_6968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyF9p5SU3pNWT1Z_lyZvlED4WuYCrD5gg4Ah7jrMUccTPwx_ueO37H5cDs5ueQ2x_ESv3QpQ9QOZRhgEtvxBo-PTC8lPIxhhdKRrJEwuk66AguXUtr1a9-x3tTRA7tCr4ep2mgVgfaE_beucIPOX9YRRTI9QWWBBKnrcwvvXKqfN__efOx0QrXQSw8cKA/s320/IMG_6968.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This piece, "Night Watch," is painted on the side of the police headquarters. The artist used to get in trouble for street graffiti but here he got to spray paint on the building of the authorities ... by invitation!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3CHLpVVNu8TlOPDw8myvDRnpRpgYrzW8jRNCO-5Bvb59lb0ArHXzdzeu9adhKKwCkZIwdVguFTaOE5Uj1w1kRTniDbtAcsqrdDptlonoIlhaD9o8ayOLxm8OGbuvQIQhA4GvGsiXs0pK6G9Isxh2AsNzXz9Yqlys4l9HBlaXaKRKQ-X-x1FczZWs3igA/s4032/IMG_6969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3CHLpVVNu8TlOPDw8myvDRnpRpgYrzW8jRNCO-5Bvb59lb0ArHXzdzeu9adhKKwCkZIwdVguFTaOE5Uj1w1kRTniDbtAcsqrdDptlonoIlhaD9o8ayOLxm8OGbuvQIQhA4GvGsiXs0pK6G9Isxh2AsNzXz9Yqlys4l9HBlaXaKRKQ-X-x1FczZWs3igA/s320/IMG_6969.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some kids build sand castles, these kids are building a sand "refinery."</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-1Hi-wSrLZV1MDOARXVHHR75rrmbNGWwHLQHnNvEh1Q_LXjJTiWfcJtHeD5NVfuRCvbeOkAkLtDuzyYmvntSdTag8QBmRE8Qn0x-c_8zofSBUDR3HesJ-ih0XU2VTYpPnngffxLw41eunv0cJRxi9j7LoebsiTYcWCT_QYRQsRTcAm70MzhufbLYQV1c/s4032/IMG_6973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-1Hi-wSrLZV1MDOARXVHHR75rrmbNGWwHLQHnNvEh1Q_LXjJTiWfcJtHeD5NVfuRCvbeOkAkLtDuzyYmvntSdTag8QBmRE8Qn0x-c_8zofSBUDR3HesJ-ih0XU2VTYpPnngffxLw41eunv0cJRxi9j7LoebsiTYcWCT_QYRQsRTcAm70MzhufbLYQV1c/s320/IMG_6973.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK98oTjeY-aSOZoPX8Y0MBj9QUdA-SKecMIGL-K-KYameiR5SubY_d633UIiuvNgTA-CFQyUuvJRyMY7Daqt-U9Slpu_legkTcfOvEAwbQetA2fOBtTb5b85TSJE7aa-Xe7fqQZoOa9wngE1QYYXGYRfP0QAP79AS3SQax7nWUwpBOgS7T8F2rTjqgDsQ/s4032/IMG_6975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK98oTjeY-aSOZoPX8Y0MBj9QUdA-SKecMIGL-K-KYameiR5SubY_d633UIiuvNgTA-CFQyUuvJRyMY7Daqt-U9Slpu_legkTcfOvEAwbQetA2fOBtTb5b85TSJE7aa-Xe7fqQZoOa9wngE1QYYXGYRfP0QAP79AS3SQax7nWUwpBOgS7T8F2rTjqgDsQ/s320/IMG_6975.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQlYb_YI2OoHO6o-srSgcPlwUYz74Coovg7qPnxGrUyAzIoKmdws5Y0t0S4eaUsax05Yl7aA7Y_tAlqvQgWmnE6ewWfWUYLP2_Fwao5p6chcOD0rB2inV03IJcwbkTz0MixPBqxICTTxVm0xn5i7BLerC6PARBGIKrfvOsZlfI1Y3BsmisI2Wyv5VmTBU/s4032/IMG_6976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQlYb_YI2OoHO6o-srSgcPlwUYz74Coovg7qPnxGrUyAzIoKmdws5Y0t0S4eaUsax05Yl7aA7Y_tAlqvQgWmnE6ewWfWUYLP2_Fwao5p6chcOD0rB2inV03IJcwbkTz0MixPBqxICTTxVm0xn5i7BLerC6PARBGIKrfvOsZlfI1Y3BsmisI2Wyv5VmTBU/s320/IMG_6976.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one was a little weird; there was an app you could download and a code to scan and then he came to life, eyes and mouth moved. I had no idea what he was saying, though; it wasn't in English.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYkv73eX0y1ix8BH5u4Fif1XTKqG_XtMFi1V3QA39_JJ6ye_tAXLbCN29GR0qwLJEpxnQy-3gLT0WnXcd77yowuKLt2G_JMMN4zDEfaLgTpeYKlXCrcZXWpvu-YvQ0kdBLvRqxwV0brkoC4KIOt-fsiI7bm2sB6SjIw1KC36Y-Zzmshh_5GM4RsNPy94/s4032/IMG_6977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYkv73eX0y1ix8BH5u4Fif1XTKqG_XtMFi1V3QA39_JJ6ye_tAXLbCN29GR0qwLJEpxnQy-3gLT0WnXcd77yowuKLt2G_JMMN4zDEfaLgTpeYKlXCrcZXWpvu-YvQ0kdBLvRqxwV0brkoC4KIOt-fsiI7bm2sB6SjIw1KC36Y-Zzmshh_5GM4RsNPy94/s320/IMG_6977.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4wMvMpILPzG5QQvgk6a1tvP5_9JB9e3K1xyLgW60hOg7-xOF_PVHfhE4sYRvSkkpJJD1kqCZ65StR0i_ZbXTAsqc1iAbuEp5-vsPeYEbmq2WrBtSRv0ko2SHEdg5nYyyV86vfZ-bA5W5O7RjN1SCWANubVfLOt1OfLpg3ShKMK2yurko2JTE1rO7CGnw/s4032/IMG_6979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4wMvMpILPzG5QQvgk6a1tvP5_9JB9e3K1xyLgW60hOg7-xOF_PVHfhE4sYRvSkkpJJD1kqCZ65StR0i_ZbXTAsqc1iAbuEp5-vsPeYEbmq2WrBtSRv0ko2SHEdg5nYyyV86vfZ-bA5W5O7RjN1SCWANubVfLOt1OfLpg3ShKMK2yurko2JTE1rO7CGnw/s320/IMG_6979.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8Bop5Zsn7JyHGd4SvUMsVCz9B-5-Ns0-UiKTumkOYWWc20Lir-DQC6Ito1Uh_rUQtPzsGu1SU1XuhYYNJ0NuuuI1t8lAWDIJhyphenhyphensu62_IP7E9ITRGGLk4Yyle92X_B2TtfJa2mWTGvSm552hZazZWuisjR_lW8bin7Ynwf3fdlYAN1p1Pm2ysGgs1Acg/s4032/IMG_6980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8Bop5Zsn7JyHGd4SvUMsVCz9B-5-Ns0-UiKTumkOYWWc20Lir-DQC6Ito1Uh_rUQtPzsGu1SU1XuhYYNJ0NuuuI1t8lAWDIJhyphenhyphensu62_IP7E9ITRGGLk4Yyle92X_B2TtfJa2mWTGvSm552hZazZWuisjR_lW8bin7Ynwf3fdlYAN1p1Pm2ysGgs1Acg/s320/IMG_6980.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlwTvNrg2ndhctk-8YCJs2cOoOBB7cWKHmQNhIqq2QN7umdpXcqnDpb8ld3fRlpEGPhNDOofGCYwC6PKF6sV4Uv9x6YY-X1__hZh_ZttIRe9p_rj5DLUd9z6XfKmqUYBKN5IT9lYQVG8NZErJIHKcA2lnJg-qbz1pgXRCHT6MyHpQx7VdmDBFmnnnvEqg/s4032/IMG_6983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlwTvNrg2ndhctk-8YCJs2cOoOBB7cWKHmQNhIqq2QN7umdpXcqnDpb8ld3fRlpEGPhNDOofGCYwC6PKF6sV4Uv9x6YY-X1__hZh_ZttIRe9p_rj5DLUd9z6XfKmqUYBKN5IT9lYQVG8NZErJIHKcA2lnJg-qbz1pgXRCHT6MyHpQx7VdmDBFmnnnvEqg/s320/IMG_6983.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-23280444530332621202024-03-15T15:53:00.000+00:002024-03-15T15:53:48.341+00:00More Murals<p> This is one of my favorites. The prikichi is a beloved local bird. In this mural, its head is painted in saturated colors, but the tail is washed out, almost transparent -- the species itself is fading away, the artist warns, threatened by overdevelopment and invasive boa constrictors eating their eggs. The lovely gentleman raking trash offered to move his pickup truck so I could get an unobstructed photo and apologized that the streets were dirty and not nicer for the visiting tourists. I thanked him but told him to stay, leave the truck and himself in the picture, he was part of the story. Here in this struggling town, even the people with the most menial jobs went about their day to day lives surrounded by rich art, and who's to say that isn't an equal or greater definition of "wealth?"</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPazu-9CFVnGOg-rBLQL8kFD3pe5wuslz1Il2NMKzeZophALwYDYgH7J2ivIPFtxXKp1l5a6_ttQ3iQuoJsQ8yf7agmHSRtMXuzwUENuTXeieglnrY88rp99UYt4IO9rc6p65iPHI9mHBXMYmfsPzVPRhW_7Hutuxf36xyJU4j89IQBXupy-3l1Rt5LUI/s4032/IMG_6837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPazu-9CFVnGOg-rBLQL8kFD3pe5wuslz1Il2NMKzeZophALwYDYgH7J2ivIPFtxXKp1l5a6_ttQ3iQuoJsQ8yf7agmHSRtMXuzwUENuTXeieglnrY88rp99UYt4IO9rc6p65iPHI9mHBXMYmfsPzVPRhW_7Hutuxf36xyJU4j89IQBXupy-3l1Rt5LUI/s320/IMG_6837.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQbhyphenhyphenOLGthQ2BqOIkOtj-LXeYjgQbbEsAW_XIgAs34YqIs72p9QegHcW54FZGzrRSsWKPe5zgOqjv_UYEa_8MfVmfmUUuJZaN3gSUIlqZec82oEnjL5K1MrIcQJZ5L4VHGd8LJ4PE8cISCYfTpx2SsI6U4842s-aBkG3kJq__wcj7njcKxtzVIqkWOcc/s4032/IMG_6836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQbhyphenhyphenOLGthQ2BqOIkOtj-LXeYjgQbbEsAW_XIgAs34YqIs72p9QegHcW54FZGzrRSsWKPe5zgOqjv_UYEa_8MfVmfmUUuJZaN3gSUIlqZec82oEnjL5K1MrIcQJZ5L4VHGd8LJ4PE8cISCYfTpx2SsI6U4842s-aBkG3kJq__wcj7njcKxtzVIqkWOcc/s320/IMG_6836.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNVlkCYDfOJR0cRKKKCJ88MtBouM1QYEut0tidKn7L4T8ATEq-Hc61-nlf7NbT7wTA2-FINg3dC7tOXgCjw9fqFTHrbbJmVTNdvGr1wLx09f-nlD8vnGDAdcDZSSOir6Bh-Nj8CKChXIHlHdIbWNoxOiswrY2ILT3xwrXficQlJbv6nw2kNs2ZYkPJ57E/s4032/IMG_6817.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNVlkCYDfOJR0cRKKKCJ88MtBouM1QYEut0tidKn7L4T8ATEq-Hc61-nlf7NbT7wTA2-FINg3dC7tOXgCjw9fqFTHrbbJmVTNdvGr1wLx09f-nlD8vnGDAdcDZSSOir6Bh-Nj8CKChXIHlHdIbWNoxOiswrY2ILT3xwrXficQlJbv6nw2kNs2ZYkPJ57E/s320/IMG_6817.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of this carnival dancer's costume is real gold tiles. The flowers in the background pay homage to the Arubian flag: the red hibiscus in the upper left is the red star, the two rows of yellow blossoms across the bottom, and the pale blue background. (Our rental car in the lower left corner for scale -- and what a beautiful way to remember where you've parked!)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0hDxmfu01En782qXbYCfd-2iziE2LXFa6lZvsS8eXepzKOlQRau1YBdoW5pkpLAJTiTsbmD8dSxHaz47trxC4gt-hGopos6KIWiz7qQ9yHeVUnqeTr2DqHP5aAhnePDVS7Yvn5hrGnOhKo1MkGi6PHgzr8p1Izx6p5_wEC4zdGshha5JHBNb9jAzAcM4/s4032/IMG_6818.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0hDxmfu01En782qXbYCfd-2iziE2LXFa6lZvsS8eXepzKOlQRau1YBdoW5pkpLAJTiTsbmD8dSxHaz47trxC4gt-hGopos6KIWiz7qQ9yHeVUnqeTr2DqHP5aAhnePDVS7Yvn5hrGnOhKo1MkGi6PHgzr8p1Izx6p5_wEC4zdGshha5JHBNb9jAzAcM4/s320/IMG_6818.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pairs of herons/egrets seems a common theme, and since heron is also Dan's spirit animal we enjoyed every one of them!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEMFJ3pQsq48e8VjCszNJemhI0HtTYkBEUIbTg1JQzPtOQHOkD2EGkCRA68WAbaTxlZzwSU0nk9ZYRHzPnGfN32xebz3bvQGMBanqA1wf5wdup0t6VX8lTMap-YVTYCzZjpe9s4tKNwT06AuLp_JZ0IHUV47GU9gC04VqgF5WCQJt8uBuWWuvKvOtonjw/s4032/IMG_6819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEMFJ3pQsq48e8VjCszNJemhI0HtTYkBEUIbTg1JQzPtOQHOkD2EGkCRA68WAbaTxlZzwSU0nk9ZYRHzPnGfN32xebz3bvQGMBanqA1wf5wdup0t6VX8lTMap-YVTYCzZjpe9s4tKNwT06AuLp_JZ0IHUV47GU9gC04VqgF5WCQJt8uBuWWuvKvOtonjw/s320/IMG_6819.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one is called "King of the Streets" and the 3-D effect is incredible; that's a flat shop front. The aloe plant and the hanging bat (for guano) are both historically money makers. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSc8owM-Bm4EkwPivsdiIIcEyptTK9QYZ_HuqFyi9TSO9Qme4p0ShYoVYSDQ4ethOXDSJ22WTQOM5M2LYtg_aMk8q5xkykyxNf7JsqwuOpzP5A13oinhcyz5qtj8Fu8Uu84QfMh40ZRTvGVuKHWh9B-6s5zhLTfAITAXadASkh3i6VwPyUIUVlGCvuRQ/s4032/IMG_6824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSc8owM-Bm4EkwPivsdiIIcEyptTK9QYZ_HuqFyi9TSO9Qme4p0ShYoVYSDQ4ethOXDSJ22WTQOM5M2LYtg_aMk8q5xkykyxNf7JsqwuOpzP5A13oinhcyz5qtj8Fu8Uu84QfMh40ZRTvGVuKHWh9B-6s5zhLTfAITAXadASkh3i6VwPyUIUVlGCvuRQ/s320/IMG_6824.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIfPbJI1tKIvFmcF4gJIrbZ1YiryTOUsFPe1rA2Tg9UYnD935KwQMAFy-wb7Ya4vRFbdFgl39qOZAsXPMJHxMdXPjFw6b7gfcxfB45KS1pTJhKrKaw272_9-Mbgi_9SWCbue-XHb4oCXPo212odAZVa6bGYeM1cITabG5hyFDuRE4Yx1q-5iWhIip4XI/s4032/IMG_6826.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIfPbJI1tKIvFmcF4gJIrbZ1YiryTOUsFPe1rA2Tg9UYnD935KwQMAFy-wb7Ya4vRFbdFgl39qOZAsXPMJHxMdXPjFw6b7gfcxfB45KS1pTJhKrKaw272_9-Mbgi_9SWCbue-XHb4oCXPo212odAZVa6bGYeM1cITabG5hyFDuRE4Yx1q-5iWhIip4XI/s320/IMG_6826.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It is illegal to remove shells of sand from the island, but tourists can give themselves "angel wings" made of seashells in this backdrop.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghholvJ7K_68WhMVDrQCQUBJ5mAMHsha0t0cHGvB6CZF5Ddwi7MjkjSuqAi53vrm-0onOs4t6cZ8Xh6BAgMJg0ZvRn6LgTMDjGqbvMh_It_KQ7oa73GeFNTr5JjCtC7njSyPBCKNEjK3UP3pf597qECSJNrrikDEc5aikI7OmSJSOAU5_JngA-VJCRD0M/s4032/IMG_6827.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghholvJ7K_68WhMVDrQCQUBJ5mAMHsha0t0cHGvB6CZF5Ddwi7MjkjSuqAi53vrm-0onOs4t6cZ8Xh6BAgMJg0ZvRn6LgTMDjGqbvMh_It_KQ7oa73GeFNTr5JjCtC7njSyPBCKNEjK3UP3pf597qECSJNrrikDEc5aikI7OmSJSOAU5_JngA-VJCRD0M/s320/IMG_6827.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Closeup of the shells</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiqU-9WNPcyl7dbXu7Fl_Yi4Rzp2MpYUom3ip6faKSs2Ct09YJ5yJQkZfUHpWfMTXni_uYx41UYlu3OXr06H8mgbaMkUZuDwbvi93qDtkCpLIy8ECthJV9kqfjdm11YYLzci78LJZ-na5BCfSLzlPjeW4J4Nw7xnYuG-YCsVJqs_6hQRD30f4TBPegDW0/s4032/IMG_6828.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiqU-9WNPcyl7dbXu7Fl_Yi4Rzp2MpYUom3ip6faKSs2Ct09YJ5yJQkZfUHpWfMTXni_uYx41UYlu3OXr06H8mgbaMkUZuDwbvi93qDtkCpLIy8ECthJV9kqfjdm11YYLzci78LJZ-na5BCfSLzlPjeW4J4Nw7xnYuG-YCsVJqs_6hQRD30f4TBPegDW0/s320/IMG_6828.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure about this one. Making origami from a high-denomination bill in the local currency.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2t2aYipwyl_NQgIk8f7hWrtPMOMGwllzivVBBiTDHj6hkQ2S8Qlhf-ZaVIgyaJ6ut_ZlKDl4-pMLM0sZwVAl8zkssSTrI-9GldH9ME2csJCjw6wjVlgqpUxpstn8PGvssKw0fYmNYrpbXzH0DZWYdNUErpGpDoxA1JSNocCygHsewY2EKTnTGf-Ey4k/s4032/IMG_6831.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2t2aYipwyl_NQgIk8f7hWrtPMOMGwllzivVBBiTDHj6hkQ2S8Qlhf-ZaVIgyaJ6ut_ZlKDl4-pMLM0sZwVAl8zkssSTrI-9GldH9ME2csJCjw6wjVlgqpUxpstn8PGvssKw0fYmNYrpbXzH0DZWYdNUErpGpDoxA1JSNocCygHsewY2EKTnTGf-Ey4k/s320/IMG_6831.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg1WzCPMGn9b_qXC9a2ns-9EqKeS01tDdzGWQQI39FEYUS6nfXu8fYEPjO7iEE1H-mV9om2zka-s0kvTa5H2NggCv3qYqk5QU3DBvgHxN9hhZxAaFrIFbyd3Jq04NClVoWKMZrQIoKEmxE9z_Oe94bW0X8vGurqBdPOOZEm9OjGnVQb9VFvg3Owmf4HEM/s4032/IMG_6839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg1WzCPMGn9b_qXC9a2ns-9EqKeS01tDdzGWQQI39FEYUS6nfXu8fYEPjO7iEE1H-mV9om2zka-s0kvTa5H2NggCv3qYqk5QU3DBvgHxN9hhZxAaFrIFbyd3Jq04NClVoWKMZrQIoKEmxE9z_Oe94bW0X8vGurqBdPOOZEm9OjGnVQb9VFvg3Owmf4HEM/s320/IMG_6839.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAvLXJv8RMpSim1B5NnOzoQo9hfo1zeBW-HpkVbWtT5y3lCcJSKRzGf650hNGY4tfRmxdBRyJbu-LsOej2SgWYZgMT935ORxSv4w-aqzi4eWNMz85XiXlXoh8PHfgAXumDzdhJ0WsSFqwTKqIAaVHu0tJ7xGP9X2c2860PSP8RgTT60Ez9iSgLYxlDMZk/s4032/IMG_6840.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAvLXJv8RMpSim1B5NnOzoQo9hfo1zeBW-HpkVbWtT5y3lCcJSKRzGf650hNGY4tfRmxdBRyJbu-LsOej2SgWYZgMT935ORxSv4w-aqzi4eWNMz85XiXlXoh8PHfgAXumDzdhJ0WsSFqwTKqIAaVHu0tJ7xGP9X2c2860PSP8RgTT60Ez9iSgLYxlDMZk/s320/IMG_6840.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUgwM6kbD2YyUE_KK3DrWvghitYe8pi77GtIBdlCu8aIhUVYk6PLEihMoib_YIBvWww8rl7dnulQieMfnYvvnXXODLZvMKrqxv3hAuxAdvnOToKn-_uk3XI4oTQOUf8xV4rQJuwVhoNuJh9Mwa0XT9r5Bvpi4dez-1z9-Ho9fC8darzbmkxmsmUJt9s1U/s4032/IMG_6841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUgwM6kbD2YyUE_KK3DrWvghitYe8pi77GtIBdlCu8aIhUVYk6PLEihMoib_YIBvWww8rl7dnulQieMfnYvvnXXODLZvMKrqxv3hAuxAdvnOToKn-_uk3XI4oTQOUf8xV4rQJuwVhoNuJh9Mwa0XT9r5Bvpi4dez-1z9-Ho9fC8darzbmkxmsmUJt9s1U/s320/IMG_6841.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8LtHjJHX6Ai8VFAJa4IAu7WEiZk36HCRb65HZhHNOylIj7FLOOQoZqKXRJUoU6ZFfw_UkFIBCwChNiE6LJFQiqLVxwf6uLCwJBF453EoGDD1gmGx2L04QhGyo8rkSuwoM9PErplvthDsBues4klJemyccTiAEsquAT6M30j-bQJgtIawnNRI-DBMxB6I/s4032/IMG_6847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8LtHjJHX6Ai8VFAJa4IAu7WEiZk36HCRb65HZhHNOylIj7FLOOQoZqKXRJUoU6ZFfw_UkFIBCwChNiE6LJFQiqLVxwf6uLCwJBF453EoGDD1gmGx2L04QhGyo8rkSuwoM9PErplvthDsBues4klJemyccTiAEsquAT6M30j-bQJgtIawnNRI-DBMxB6I/s320/IMG_6847.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one is meant to be viewed through a red or blue filter. Prophetically, it was made in 2020 and shows how they can't quite get in sync and there's something keeping them apart.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-yvm_RDhT53-dpLjR43Di5r3cmHsbyAcX63lnHblkZxZUvPcRMg8gGyQyxsXCCxLwqfJGUoKfH596dI9yeTfcBh3bwfYNva_lIGnbTV1YHp6IR1o-eWezgcx-5GdLjcvOW4KAXvyAiwkSO33wx4dC8jUHOJ1pWKzgRfdqZd5lmEzHp6t3sRerQN9kNk/s4032/IMG_6848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-yvm_RDhT53-dpLjR43Di5r3cmHsbyAcX63lnHblkZxZUvPcRMg8gGyQyxsXCCxLwqfJGUoKfH596dI9yeTfcBh3bwfYNva_lIGnbTV1YHp6IR1o-eWezgcx-5GdLjcvOW4KAXvyAiwkSO33wx4dC8jUHOJ1pWKzgRfdqZd5lmEzHp6t3sRerQN9kNk/s320/IMG_6848.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Viewed through the blue filter, you can see her surface and his deeper core...</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLceUkcb5g1Poq3PTRrfC_B0YripSATzP6FqvVqaJcSK7pcbwEf63BtGph4iKyyZ-zpIQHt0rjwtxwQSjofkc1mTAKPvDMdzyIddEBgyfKNxVm85dn-GscT1c-YC2epRXP7Ehk8DQzp5EogdVDyfFuJN9dYJL53hMd5SvaiGoKCIq-orkPpQfJeNz9OHk/s4032/IMG_6849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLceUkcb5g1Poq3PTRrfC_B0YripSATzP6FqvVqaJcSK7pcbwEf63BtGph4iKyyZ-zpIQHt0rjwtxwQSjofkc1mTAKPvDMdzyIddEBgyfKNxVm85dn-GscT1c-YC2epRXP7Ehk8DQzp5EogdVDyfFuJN9dYJL53hMd5SvaiGoKCIq-orkPpQfJeNz9OHk/s320/IMG_6849.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">... and vice-versa through the red filter.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKRK1hSHEWWCJILIccRo5TKLGa5yQhGFbl-Qzs8tWj9CUYQxvkVMXWPIO9sgL6oZPNNGts8Za1c3aC8ttEHFeppnRqomkHKh_ZakkMLewqps3cI7YSaJkT9hYBQKx19VBM9LlLZ9MqBSvjROoK5kiE31m3qeYcZSaeVSgIN98oAB-vsDneCvcxESVYf-8/s800/IMG_6854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKRK1hSHEWWCJILIccRo5TKLGa5yQhGFbl-Qzs8tWj9CUYQxvkVMXWPIO9sgL6oZPNNGts8Za1c3aC8ttEHFeppnRqomkHKh_ZakkMLewqps3cI7YSaJkT9hYBQKx19VBM9LlLZ9MqBSvjROoK5kiE31m3qeYcZSaeVSgIN98oAB-vsDneCvcxESVYf-8/s320/IMG_6854.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjSYCxQ_rsaanwRWQSQaxlfm-zu2jUN9ykeCcxPthyl1LplKhU8cBmeVYaSbFWtPUyIcvn9i5_kp3bwH6Iq7fzkBywuaq4A5E7aNv5OzEYS5xRJDu2_pSbv8pELuG4m_wz8EkgztmKj5E6E9O1dMbzm95wenQq1IZk7QPj5pT32TNJjoTfsuWnovm_6I/s4032/IMG_6900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjSYCxQ_rsaanwRWQSQaxlfm-zu2jUN9ykeCcxPthyl1LplKhU8cBmeVYaSbFWtPUyIcvn9i5_kp3bwH6Iq7fzkBywuaq4A5E7aNv5OzEYS5xRJDu2_pSbv8pELuG4m_wz8EkgztmKj5E6E9O1dMbzm95wenQq1IZk7QPj5pT32TNJjoTfsuWnovm_6I/s320/IMG_6900.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWWgsqVD_rZjA2EDUgSLRucOc2lT2vM2KrA_hH8kqsjLFQ2rCFlGxV3FAv676UkSa8iIx7gHb0Pi8aP_t9gEEE0JKka6XwnplyteZmbrCNvDpGzRtJr01F2072FOsOBvy6mjukF5YUGL-3Zk4Xbd5Qklci-qolRbaxu42XzZTu3MAJcTnllJzmPoWWido/s4032/IMG_6912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWWgsqVD_rZjA2EDUgSLRucOc2lT2vM2KrA_hH8kqsjLFQ2rCFlGxV3FAv676UkSa8iIx7gHb0Pi8aP_t9gEEE0JKka6XwnplyteZmbrCNvDpGzRtJr01F2072FOsOBvy6mjukF5YUGL-3Zk4Xbd5Qklci-qolRbaxu42XzZTu3MAJcTnllJzmPoWWido/s320/IMG_6912.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The leatherback turtle goes out into the world, but comes back to the beach where it was born to lay its eggs and create the next generation. So too with island youth, who go to Holland for college. There's been a brain-drain in recent years as many young people choose to remain in Europe, for jobs and at least in part because the exchange is favorable compared to the island.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjShpVXFTsTeFoPhcS1WQGwnnwXWu6G4HazDsGJS75RGUx_KAbHlflELD_Cd2JwQbcc6JJr79BI_pe4zkdtiCzqQdNiKDlqFsJvALTL4X_StQMgvN7ykx2SNCJRU9fd9aridQOIQ5i2Y285buLgGwR-QtoMj2Iqc41pE2S5eiT0EDJ8ML1Xp2yT2z5QNTM/s4032/IMG_6914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjShpVXFTsTeFoPhcS1WQGwnnwXWu6G4HazDsGJS75RGUx_KAbHlflELD_Cd2JwQbcc6JJr79BI_pe4zkdtiCzqQdNiKDlqFsJvALTL4X_StQMgvN7ykx2SNCJRU9fd9aridQOIQ5i2Y285buLgGwR-QtoMj2Iqc41pE2S5eiT0EDJ8ML1Xp2yT2z5QNTM/s320/IMG_6914.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUNUXk9q2dSSg7KavN8SydI9hd-Opli402EWmTKpqx88KZoFhoc30UjfRpPH3LxvSjzlwYY9JqmSBuRfRh4Y9_xRW7VhFKX_NWdM8Cv2D2m5192pVQOXVxgmLUmWHhHY8sQdbXS-IzzFCtQUFJnZ6bkw3KtOxod7fRU0pI9TS_HVqRagtjsGtBA0kx6jI/s4032/IMG_6915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUNUXk9q2dSSg7KavN8SydI9hd-Opli402EWmTKpqx88KZoFhoc30UjfRpPH3LxvSjzlwYY9JqmSBuRfRh4Y9_xRW7VhFKX_NWdM8Cv2D2m5192pVQOXVxgmLUmWHhHY8sQdbXS-IzzFCtQUFJnZ6bkw3KtOxod7fRU0pI9TS_HVqRagtjsGtBA0kx6jI/s320/IMG_6915.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another mural honoring locals while they're still living; this gentleman (Hidaro Donker (sp???)) bugged the government to get street lights in town.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyBh5U9pBdp7459BGiJs97YMGiZVydmXtFt9XdJB_VmedqdKgd-BM3xJNDhvYXsGZLgL-14zG5iYrEB_xbZxZtkaDCwYtYq4kJTWpCQ1fsjlsuHI1yozU4REGcyDo7WVOHBETah1fMYG6yEYSTI2pAWrvaGAE953xNCzMg61fZgWX6k45IGjN9L05Io-Y/s4032/IMG_6916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyBh5U9pBdp7459BGiJs97YMGiZVydmXtFt9XdJB_VmedqdKgd-BM3xJNDhvYXsGZLgL-14zG5iYrEB_xbZxZtkaDCwYtYq4kJTWpCQ1fsjlsuHI1yozU4REGcyDo7WVOHBETah1fMYG6yEYSTI2pAWrvaGAE953xNCzMg61fZgWX6k45IGjN9L05Io-Y/s320/IMG_6916.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sarah Quito Ofredo is a windsurfing champion; if you look closely her shirt is the ocean. It is said that she's so good she can take her morning coffee on her board with her and drink it and never spill a drop.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-23214870147457603892024-03-14T17:00:00.001+00:002024-03-14T17:13:55.598+00:00San Nicolaas, where "the streets are quiet and the walls are loud"<p>This city, on the "sunrise" side of the island, is worlds away from the glitzy tourist bubble. In the past, it held an oil refinery (and the red-light district that serviced it) and a major source of wealth. But the refinery closed, the red-light district remained, and the place became synonymous with decay, local and authentic but quite rough around the edges; gray walls and peeling paint. Though, surrounded with gorgeous beaches and turquoise water like the rest of the island.</p><p>Around 8 years ago, they got the idea to turn it into a local arts scene. Those sad, gray walls are now bursting with color and energy; concrete benches (think bus stop) are tiled with mosaics representing local fauna and flora. Two new art galleries have opened downtown, restaurants and pubs are serving food and drink and reggae music is heard on the streets. There's still a long way to go but the turnaround energy is palpable. We had seen the murals before as we wandered (though new ones are added every year!) but they were simply "pretty pictures" and we had no way to guess the meanings behind them. So we signed up for a <a href="https://arubamuraltours.com/" target="_blank">walking tour</a> with Tito Bolivar, the guy whose passion started it all. </p><p>Here's a photo dump containing about a tenth of the insights we received. But if you're on island, really, take the tour. So many stories, and they're adding new art every year.</p><p>Random benches. There are many more, including some that weren't made by artists but were a project done by at-risk kids. (Sorry, my pix of that one didn't really come out well. Wanna see it? Take. The. Tour.)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRL389QaN6F2NnwqfhOVbNGByxVO3X4nKMKk8RM-TdSklnrldz-lAlhO05lpoSBiCuy-VKqbln031vhQ0gQ6-Tb_CakPC3Rf_jmIP4X-b8Yij8bI94N44_twWcLx2xBnPPhyevgFmMvpLYiaSyJpvxK7cMXWCvfPGjBJsMt-I_pZK_WK_AttldTmkKV04/s4032/IMG_6801.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRL389QaN6F2NnwqfhOVbNGByxVO3X4nKMKk8RM-TdSklnrldz-lAlhO05lpoSBiCuy-VKqbln031vhQ0gQ6-Tb_CakPC3Rf_jmIP4X-b8Yij8bI94N44_twWcLx2xBnPPhyevgFmMvpLYiaSyJpvxK7cMXWCvfPGjBJsMt-I_pZK_WK_AttldTmkKV04/s320/IMG_6801.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk1y1kQb59GIxnrr8-UPjkYnQWegHnBrKZYiM2Gj8TtXBVhtrslBCDhztOV2tU_2jAtqzNkKnWUITWbUemzWomR5x1MDb-7RvVQIvyJtHgfUrLvXQY5pQrhO46td3rz8jCPqjqQ5bVd9NMvW1lVAQ_C42RrwbtpY0Cm3ZK58rcIZj1RCgNXBcSDoJI5Cs/s4032/IMG_6802.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk1y1kQb59GIxnrr8-UPjkYnQWegHnBrKZYiM2Gj8TtXBVhtrslBCDhztOV2tU_2jAtqzNkKnWUITWbUemzWomR5x1MDb-7RvVQIvyJtHgfUrLvXQY5pQrhO46td3rz8jCPqjqQ5bVd9NMvW1lVAQ_C42RrwbtpY0Cm3ZK58rcIZj1RCgNXBcSDoJI5Cs/s320/IMG_6802.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4_EHOrIC1HXP-br-EfowGOhyphenhyphenO56aTzbsOwXAbfSzwwZnVym9YeLXvUimYxjrtv3ef6UXyxN7D3f-l51Iz3yPlLUKFfGmcvLxP2YalqR9iRKjJGl1uBWsSPFVWgA0vfsmDuRYC4EnKWP-trYhNlVLZKNtcHannUZ6Dbyfgj0Nb6mOyZijUr5fyjYGnxA/s4032/IMG_6803.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4_EHOrIC1HXP-br-EfowGOhyphenhyphenO56aTzbsOwXAbfSzwwZnVym9YeLXvUimYxjrtv3ef6UXyxN7D3f-l51Iz3yPlLUKFfGmcvLxP2YalqR9iRKjJGl1uBWsSPFVWgA0vfsmDuRYC4EnKWP-trYhNlVLZKNtcHannUZ6Dbyfgj0Nb6mOyZijUr5fyjYGnxA/s320/IMG_6803.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ASwcBwdKVBRTNchThcIuh6keU6mqRy0dKYriZHWzoCJi-aW7LQvMUjJV8MNETzJfkEwgS78SfDetVIgCa-Q2AF_8RcLGybl407LXUkLZZ8-HYn85t-LmdqAf9HYoH7zAZtdeEpoCkuqlqdSRTQG1gS_e9j-F05qClOege8CgMRUAtpSZ3Qza7pjjDK8/s4032/IMG_6804.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ASwcBwdKVBRTNchThcIuh6keU6mqRy0dKYriZHWzoCJi-aW7LQvMUjJV8MNETzJfkEwgS78SfDetVIgCa-Q2AF_8RcLGybl407LXUkLZZ8-HYn85t-LmdqAf9HYoH7zAZtdeEpoCkuqlqdSRTQG1gS_e9j-F05qClOege8CgMRUAtpSZ3Qza7pjjDK8/s320/IMG_6804.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9LtgUmj1GIPLa9pqOOihjsSFBs0zTffjuLjU4heROwMKzuyGqF5S0zuoqHYiKYVsrObC6TewqW-y9HatOchh_DTMd6CZ6X4WEeP2gz3920bOBgDlJnWvUJKPxlnMSYDGvKrNf-gy6xHAQuEn0WhJ5scaTyq9LRXOF1NVDAvTgHM638FxzC-EyqwEDf2Q/s4032/IMG_6806.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9LtgUmj1GIPLa9pqOOihjsSFBs0zTffjuLjU4heROwMKzuyGqF5S0zuoqHYiKYVsrObC6TewqW-y9HatOchh_DTMd6CZ6X4WEeP2gz3920bOBgDlJnWvUJKPxlnMSYDGvKrNf-gy6xHAQuEn0WhJ5scaTyq9LRXOF1NVDAvTgHM638FxzC-EyqwEDf2Q/s320/IMG_6806.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYGjPQYTU3WpNrrxpcjpFsTvTjkFpEAbo_Hle1ynUQTt4ZdA4IUvHnnz4x_7AlhWrGPQ9dn_jzG6vMqzP9ov3iX8zaV63KY26WYBg57jU15JJPBadg8qGzVz3n-VtwCeak6jFFHUuSYLWTMoFLHAu-6DSZO9147cSUr57wqay6Dx8k_ivxQndq0GG0UY/s4032/IMG_6821.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYGjPQYTU3WpNrrxpcjpFsTvTjkFpEAbo_Hle1ynUQTt4ZdA4IUvHnnz4x_7AlhWrGPQ9dn_jzG6vMqzP9ov3iX8zaV63KY26WYBg57jU15JJPBadg8qGzVz3n-VtwCeak6jFFHUuSYLWTMoFLHAu-6DSZO9147cSUr57wqay6Dx8k_ivxQndq0GG0UY/s320/IMG_6821.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdL3VMOEDhGR9MiI2Fq7lcmXLw9v5h05XUZ1izDqPwAxQLypUOYBZF8EOmndVqL_yi8vN-NzIF2SiMhj_bMSrLpygVIwx3BxxZzBkjfoOrB-QAy9448Y8mv9rfrtSQwZkq1MS9njud6A7H2b49-Fzaas62UEDN2B9ze3OGIQD3UEHDlb2_EDlVuh5v8E/s4032/IMG_6822.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdL3VMOEDhGR9MiI2Fq7lcmXLw9v5h05XUZ1izDqPwAxQLypUOYBZF8EOmndVqL_yi8vN-NzIF2SiMhj_bMSrLpygVIwx3BxxZzBkjfoOrB-QAy9448Y8mv9rfrtSQwZkq1MS9njud6A7H2b49-Fzaas62UEDN2B9ze3OGIQD3UEHDlb2_EDlVuh5v8E/s320/IMG_6822.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p>I have literally hundreds of pictures of the murals on the walls. Here's a generous sampling of the ones that I found most compelling. Every one of them has a story. I was told all the stories. I wrote them down as our guide Tito was speaking. I still can't convey the richness of culture we saw, that morning.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMd0EWh4Elm0UHDE_r3NF6Ddi8L03-p3UmWrpblMiu2RdV-Ir-oiolY7-YZHpxcJjCKU_ToXrkw7l67nHAL1ZrQ4EmrbZn_9Rf-X1v7ImnH5FFJhbqZjptsedJxLf9CNW0aCVn03SfAw4jQfQ2ma2dWqUVpOPQjJnn6XEUDkQYwBKZlppj4ueXmT2UACs/s4032/IMG_6882.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMd0EWh4Elm0UHDE_r3NF6Ddi8L03-p3UmWrpblMiu2RdV-Ir-oiolY7-YZHpxcJjCKU_ToXrkw7l67nHAL1ZrQ4EmrbZn_9Rf-X1v7ImnH5FFJhbqZjptsedJxLf9CNW0aCVn03SfAw4jQfQ2ma2dWqUVpOPQjJnn6XEUDkQYwBKZlppj4ueXmT2UACs/s320/IMG_6882.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"My promise to the island" contains pictures of the wildlife, and in the background, images of the decoration motifs found on traditional houses. There's so much pressure here from overdevelopment.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHQ5KAZ6z0x0z7wQ3pxBPRTpH_2Wd_pHTUVMF-hXVT2IOqi5OaTa7Jn8TSv4-X6bnqEkH2jSHL5EZeiVNjZydZEdkNTFSoR1aD2m-XYFMIak6Xs3f5p2pGkklbPLGidMrK_0pr66IuJoZ4KVDS6ZQ8LL0Y2GGCUBv67fSOFLWudh0pd6lg7Me7juRH0jY/s4032/IMG_6883.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHQ5KAZ6z0x0z7wQ3pxBPRTpH_2Wd_pHTUVMF-hXVT2IOqi5OaTa7Jn8TSv4-X6bnqEkH2jSHL5EZeiVNjZydZEdkNTFSoR1aD2m-XYFMIak6Xs3f5p2pGkklbPLGidMrK_0pr66IuJoZ4KVDS6ZQ8LL0Y2GGCUBv67fSOFLWudh0pd6lg7Me7juRH0jY/s320/IMG_6883.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The other half of the same mural, too long to fit in one shot. The background colors of yellow, orange, and purple represent sunrise; San Nicolaas, on the eastern tip of the island, is nicknamed the sunrise city.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimjASlJwowTyEak9VMdeIGC-rNGZpvMkW8sP5wQLaTijTAJZrTQL-j93LJ74K0VzsXj6SuEB9UDGkeaP13YwJGRvN-vsbuF3pZGOReWQfS11vlRa3Bxx_TnlkAxEOKoZWUA726mc0hpwnHAweV324nHYtIi5-tzgegBwngO6Qy3nFNOACAvUVybUEpvfQ/s4032/IMG_6884.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimjASlJwowTyEak9VMdeIGC-rNGZpvMkW8sP5wQLaTijTAJZrTQL-j93LJ74K0VzsXj6SuEB9UDGkeaP13YwJGRvN-vsbuF3pZGOReWQfS11vlRa3Bxx_TnlkAxEOKoZWUA726mc0hpwnHAweV324nHYtIi5-tzgegBwngO6Qy3nFNOACAvUVybUEpvfQ/s320/IMG_6884.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Her name is Alicia von (Romont??? sp??) and she's an artist who has painted some of the murals in town. Tito said that all the murals of people we'd see on the tour represent <i>living </i>people, so that they'd know while they're still alive, how much they were respected by the citizens.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF1X0R7nHOgN2nCra_uPBVwiUvdyGpOpjqZ8nMKEglZ43wBnzms6EstbwC9lXYfwFDAgKPHGiMw8CMjM9nUIEi6jx24kiqk_Q7SQdORSbsUR1Tle3EHlQWu_vFjf-cxXZUpHihTVPveLJrFJfoRwWpyAxtw3dWPkQjtTLSyes0dth2Iltu65vKvRSO4V4/s4032/IMG_6885.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF1X0R7nHOgN2nCra_uPBVwiUvdyGpOpjqZ8nMKEglZ43wBnzms6EstbwC9lXYfwFDAgKPHGiMw8CMjM9nUIEi6jx24kiqk_Q7SQdORSbsUR1Tle3EHlQWu_vFjf-cxXZUpHihTVPveLJrFJfoRwWpyAxtw3dWPkQjtTLSyes0dth2Iltu65vKvRSO4V4/s320/IMG_6885.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Please recycle"</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP1kNPxV1PVSc8enxEw9uU9HBeO_kTZrShXmOOjy328w1zHb8hozB4wifLMqdHwaIv8AZLXvgsTKymjD0LikI_4nRA20AIr-9t7cuhpUhyphenhyphenzs7XutbSLrjWrSYTn2M7qpZOw6iuiYRuZzPCYRdYJL73jW5KlAoOlYKNxPBDCnmYkcYFFn1lbuFeS9eccuA/s4032/IMG_6886.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP1kNPxV1PVSc8enxEw9uU9HBeO_kTZrShXmOOjy328w1zHb8hozB4wifLMqdHwaIv8AZLXvgsTKymjD0LikI_4nRA20AIr-9t7cuhpUhyphenhyphenzs7XutbSLrjWrSYTn2M7qpZOw6iuiYRuZzPCYRdYJL73jW5KlAoOlYKNxPBDCnmYkcYFFn1lbuFeS9eccuA/s320/IMG_6886.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(the other end of the recycling mural)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyXyiRRisf4ZPiKwI1rWdYW1JKTFgSNnKZDzGru_eGFTCeBGaA_344xo4P8gyGGGfqD6vU9pDnyEv1DCU6JEgrWS0NBZ58ZaLyY0_gR1KTuJYWbIwo55C_tJfIPw1bgWf8RpzxIPCC9b-HPL0g6PiSYdEHPTn6UmR5p_4BHNQC1aJj68-A7qVI-t_UFY/s4032/IMG_6888.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyXyiRRisf4ZPiKwI1rWdYW1JKTFgSNnKZDzGru_eGFTCeBGaA_344xo4P8gyGGGfqD6vU9pDnyEv1DCU6JEgrWS0NBZ58ZaLyY0_gR1KTuJYWbIwo55C_tJfIPw1bgWf8RpzxIPCC9b-HPL0g6PiSYdEHPTn6UmR5p_4BHNQC1aJj68-A7qVI-t_UFY/s320/IMG_6888.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His name is Atto Niro (sp?) and he's a rapper. The artist who painted this, Rashid Lowe, was 16 when he made this mural.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7KhdgOSlBpijZNWUpWAD1qcmZ-BPnlQfsqoRzYZq7ujjU5x7_EDsPCIkidMbSAX1KqQuvDOKqAf1RAP1eaTp_QrbycxW-u_mIWMDhCa9QGmgDEfn-rcATBHLndcOHxS2zRSBwlmIlcg2NdEOgz3a4Bsmy3PslXa84skM4-LN_vwaclYtnKCK11ISuguA/s4032/IMG_6890.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7KhdgOSlBpijZNWUpWAD1qcmZ-BPnlQfsqoRzYZq7ujjU5x7_EDsPCIkidMbSAX1KqQuvDOKqAf1RAP1eaTp_QrbycxW-u_mIWMDhCa9QGmgDEfn-rcATBHLndcOHxS2zRSBwlmIlcg2NdEOgz3a4Bsmy3PslXa84skM4-LN_vwaclYtnKCK11ISuguA/s320/IMG_6890.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Dushi Bida" means, "sweet life."</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_OmHAdyvWAgLXsjkI_lrJtXw7cP1C8cNiHj3xCfxAEooDEyZ7sw_ZC76IzUZT-3GXfLQ1eU6SweDUmSp-NMvELZ3_-5yCUddOuemjbUW2JDQdWy4nPpmXgHMuYu_KvQ5ayrgMlI4iMnQ710r0xSl_NO1h8LPmL23xN3uCMrtQ3TVqKD_GniXOyLpzNak/s4032/IMG_6893.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_OmHAdyvWAgLXsjkI_lrJtXw7cP1C8cNiHj3xCfxAEooDEyZ7sw_ZC76IzUZT-3GXfLQ1eU6SweDUmSp-NMvELZ3_-5yCUddOuemjbUW2JDQdWy4nPpmXgHMuYu_KvQ5ayrgMlI4iMnQ710r0xSl_NO1h8LPmL23xN3uCMrtQ3TVqKD_GniXOyLpzNak/s320/IMG_6893.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rest of "dushi bida." Again with the yellow-orange-purple.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The public library is probably my favorite story. Painted by Alicia whose mural I've already shown, at its heart this mural is a protest or a wake-up call. Only 3000 people visited the library the year this mural was conceived. The information within was "chained up," held hostage to the lure of the cellphone. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByR_-9L3kdZTxDnE8LmW4Xd5Df8UOJcO5Y0pz1Y3N0KIgSmZ8P0F7WLQShi9ldcdSHztihpL8bnt96v7M44VwfatVZeFdOKXDToMwgEcw-jKcAGsvU65HyBCdbO-M1cfssBaE0ZoN0jP5YdrEHuHIlnJ_pbh_aBFXbze5t0z59dk9MRId-_eF5mJO2Gc/s4032/IMG_6895.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByR_-9L3kdZTxDnE8LmW4Xd5Df8UOJcO5Y0pz1Y3N0KIgSmZ8P0F7WLQShi9ldcdSHztihpL8bnt96v7M44VwfatVZeFdOKXDToMwgEcw-jKcAGsvU65HyBCdbO-M1cfssBaE0ZoN0jP5YdrEHuHIlnJ_pbh_aBFXbze5t0z59dk9MRId-_eF5mJO2Gc/s320/IMG_6895.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQm6Xl-P9Cb5b9wVOkq5EF_gJ0d6hdAkMAjXDZTy5zw-p_-jLb2j_B0UUC_84OBmVyT1ir9e05rcWuP7opYzjn6bWpI5IzXVrPb6nzfTgbcLE7w80IGud4A7StEh9hUL22LGByvBTSs4eoZPdYBKjX6k2KEQpqgocbhC9sThsHnU5UX7L0Dht8cQdEKsg/s4032/IMG_6896.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQm6Xl-P9Cb5b9wVOkq5EF_gJ0d6hdAkMAjXDZTy5zw-p_-jLb2j_B0UUC_84OBmVyT1ir9e05rcWuP7opYzjn6bWpI5IzXVrPb6nzfTgbcLE7w80IGud4A7StEh9hUL22LGByvBTSs4eoZPdYBKjX6k2KEQpqgocbhC9sThsHnU5UX7L0Dht8cQdEKsg/s320/IMG_6896.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">more library ... </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPObyRa5IMbXf3GdDy3knxrdCstMbLYduyONqZaAp6xx3-ijiT0e8ogMDsHvfO09SSDbehk6X8CtpCObG0lWkvq2LbCAJWZmitAtfsDAYd4otE-SO-NakSNOmKw469mVGWye_BKvamLaxgV_n9JVWucjtJVqsCYsmxEHflAJNWGer5CAKr8xzPHhRUwE/s4032/IMG_6898.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPObyRa5IMbXf3GdDy3knxrdCstMbLYduyONqZaAp6xx3-ijiT0e8ogMDsHvfO09SSDbehk6X8CtpCObG0lWkvq2LbCAJWZmitAtfsDAYd4otE-SO-NakSNOmKw469mVGWye_BKvamLaxgV_n9JVWucjtJVqsCYsmxEHflAJNWGer5CAKr8xzPHhRUwE/s320/IMG_6898.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">... and more ...</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt2I-DXiN1kK0hiUDR_NUxxmgth7yeHljjUXlhJOyd3Wi09brJ1N5zYcDiSlJTDabkXbR66m7B2bG6xQv_18vTgAiVn4-Mc8S4D-8KE_slSg0s6lhfv6-8J1bUaaYyzNRxNu7zrEXYADkRpJdhBzOZ2dulMo7LV070tpk_C6jZLP098ViP8Thct1AgCs0/s4032/IMG_6903.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt2I-DXiN1kK0hiUDR_NUxxmgth7yeHljjUXlhJOyd3Wi09brJ1N5zYcDiSlJTDabkXbR66m7B2bG6xQv_18vTgAiVn4-Mc8S4D-8KE_slSg0s6lhfv6-8J1bUaaYyzNRxNu7zrEXYADkRpJdhBzOZ2dulMo7LV070tpk_C6jZLP098ViP8Thct1AgCs0/s320/IMG_6903.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nanzi or <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anansi" target="_blank">Anansi</a>, the spider is a west African folklore character. Like our Native American Coyote, he's a trickster, achieving his goals by cunning, creativity, and wit. He's also associated with storytelling. He used his cleverness to get the stories originally owned by the sky god Nyame, but later dropped the container that held the stories and they spilled out available to all. (Read the full tale in the wikipedia linked<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anansi" target="_blank"> here</a>.)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHn1Bn26ZHgsrn5Vg2Uwe8mYi4Pps-VxowjjL6Su1BbYu-QEGKB2mrAaEA5fKlDsX93oEOskpp94CbrF9TXY9ENs5yO3zJwbsICxclc1IRVCcmUoBUPWJbnfv_DLI8I0SH2Dc-cE0asI-52mPKkimV1jgRkuWuzbrOguzZm5SlfgpI5ueIbu-621MK52g/s4032/IMG_6904.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHn1Bn26ZHgsrn5Vg2Uwe8mYi4Pps-VxowjjL6Su1BbYu-QEGKB2mrAaEA5fKlDsX93oEOskpp94CbrF9TXY9ENs5yO3zJwbsICxclc1IRVCcmUoBUPWJbnfv_DLI8I0SH2Dc-cE0asI-52mPKkimV1jgRkuWuzbrOguzZm5SlfgpI5ueIbu-621MK52g/s320/IMG_6904.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSedYzcinvoX4Klyn6OHJjQHBWvr3M-YfgANWQl4eadCQ6uxHK3syYbVBtae7ckYTmDdvNOV2YzAGAlwVtEIDdeIeR0PCH7bA24IlZKQ_8GuDSJ84P-YE4n9H6vULtJo01TQ9mvo3bkMh2VKbIXi9lrqYF2xuIVOKAQnqmA5Zoy0T2qCGmN3QGcw_3dJQ/s4032/IMG_6905.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSedYzcinvoX4Klyn6OHJjQHBWvr3M-YfgANWQl4eadCQ6uxHK3syYbVBtae7ckYTmDdvNOV2YzAGAlwVtEIDdeIeR0PCH7bA24IlZKQ_8GuDSJ84P-YE4n9H6vULtJo01TQ9mvo3bkMh2VKbIXi9lrqYF2xuIVOKAQnqmA5Zoy0T2qCGmN3QGcw_3dJQ/s320/IMG_6905.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The goddess Nyame, original holder of the story wisdom in the Nanzi stories</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0p2LI4MzuWQzxopoQoqdKGaTQntqaCFntNgJISdzcNtg7R1hM06gWdAiUaivEzpGgNNc78z8vfqut9lVUG3c8XMwir8SOozkg7ycsP0DuaIyL0bj7_SjeheLI2-U2QsAo_Nr7GgaFj-VRubSgGIewR54kjO4t9opXjCmqXLCcY3i1srMLgzMYXhNAlAI/s4032/IMG_6906.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0p2LI4MzuWQzxopoQoqdKGaTQntqaCFntNgJISdzcNtg7R1hM06gWdAiUaivEzpGgNNc78z8vfqut9lVUG3c8XMwir8SOozkg7ycsP0DuaIyL0bj7_SjeheLI2-U2QsAo_Nr7GgaFj-VRubSgGIewR54kjO4t9opXjCmqXLCcY3i1srMLgzMYXhNAlAI/s320/IMG_6906.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>So many murals, so many stories, I'm going to break this post into two. </p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-71632382298003461692024-03-13T18:14:00.039+00:002024-03-14T15:08:13.862+00:00Kayak Paddle<p> In general we had planned this trip to be a low-key one instead of our usual frenetic timing to catch Carnival and the party atmosphere. This time around, we wanted to chill, and dig a little deeper into history, culture, and ecology. We wanted to explore on our own, but also had a few tours and excursions planned.</p><p>First up was a sunset kayak paddle, and maybe if we were lucky we'd catch some bioluminescence. I still remembered the first night we'd ever camped out on the island; the waves that broke on the beach were edged with sapphire sparkles. Turned out there was too much moonlight during our paddle to see the bioluminescence, but ... moonlight too bright? What a delightful problem to have! </p><p>No pix from the moonlit portion of the trip, but here are a few from the sunset portion.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPAEQZJOGDHvb9U4Ul3yKBTOQ6Sq5WbiT8ZTuaPk8Z786TShZbm6h-qmneTIt-sHb-xPXqwa9CAwLgw2DP5oXXfSoyqfVUn1sznVuWCJJT4rOZZrBB9MqIjO7lnLhVSJdSGXn7BrLbd6z1OtRtAXfOwjKCHIs46jCa7TdoxQCoMD4lvKaC0Pj49OMmDGA/s1763/IMG_6734.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1338" data-original-width="1763" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPAEQZJOGDHvb9U4Ul3yKBTOQ6Sq5WbiT8ZTuaPk8Z786TShZbm6h-qmneTIt-sHb-xPXqwa9CAwLgw2DP5oXXfSoyqfVUn1sznVuWCJJT4rOZZrBB9MqIjO7lnLhVSJdSGXn7BrLbd6z1OtRtAXfOwjKCHIs46jCa7TdoxQCoMD4lvKaC0Pj49OMmDGA/s320/IMG_6734.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset from the water with the old (pier? bridge?) supports in the background</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijgg6N2nL-B9e7RLJwIB9I_-zyYgdawKwVWfXiUMGG6fUF8st7cfTGr_I2BXkScBKprCbaYLZl3dQFLhENJc7061PBn3KWoJ9-naNR2pJ3jxQ2A18_vCePFKNM96A75rNiNyZtm8xRoNaye4diHvAsBohNbxDOqG7Smen7SxgzJhayh38-0nnSddSf-rQ/s2048/IMG_6735.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1649" data-original-width="2048" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijgg6N2nL-B9e7RLJwIB9I_-zyYgdawKwVWfXiUMGG6fUF8st7cfTGr_I2BXkScBKprCbaYLZl3dQFLhENJc7061PBn3KWoJ9-naNR2pJ3jxQ2A18_vCePFKNM96A75rNiNyZtm8xRoNaye4diHvAsBohNbxDOqG7Smen7SxgzJhayh38-0nnSddSf-rQ/s320/IMG_6735.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just relaxing and letting the current carry us; we had to paddle hard upstream to make it back</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiilUpY8-QtvxL3UiOzy1lqbjE2c7xAd1XF8bmJnw4CpjDA2-rc0rMcbcxAz569scvQWKO0i5qCDheV3-zhACR-QDA9KmbPs7TspLDPY2tjYUfQ4l31zrN9lBgSszCQWQfl1PXg0iPKsGMrCGcE8FMSodHYPxJ_UJ62qzq4QRuQUX5h5Fo9neB1L3HhcaA/s2008/IMG_6736.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2008" data-original-width="1308" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiilUpY8-QtvxL3UiOzy1lqbjE2c7xAd1XF8bmJnw4CpjDA2-rc0rMcbcxAz569scvQWKO0i5qCDheV3-zhACR-QDA9KmbPs7TspLDPY2tjYUfQ4l31zrN9lBgSszCQWQfl1PXg0iPKsGMrCGcE8FMSodHYPxJ_UJ62qzq4QRuQUX5h5Fo9neB1L3HhcaA/s320/IMG_6736.JPG" width="208" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love these juxtapositions, cruise ship and rough structure</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVpY74zGorLJyHBtR-OTuZsImM_SVUi_ckWZr2V-xA03WfDoJy-90VwDZjmkEuXDpevUu84EzTQfsdsYnX5Yc2dqNsCIor_MtD1bp8VYgH95DjSk-8Sxwo6LizFRE5L2tA6RaDAEf_4lWmu2HMPD0WOulednj5hkFulujMSJS88noq6YcDU9yYW1XjkqA/s2048/IMG_6737.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1362" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVpY74zGorLJyHBtR-OTuZsImM_SVUi_ckWZr2V-xA03WfDoJy-90VwDZjmkEuXDpevUu84EzTQfsdsYnX5Yc2dqNsCIor_MtD1bp8VYgH95DjSk-8Sxwo6LizFRE5L2tA6RaDAEf_4lWmu2HMPD0WOulednj5hkFulujMSJS88noq6YcDU9yYW1XjkqA/s320/IMG_6737.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dan thought it reminiscent of Stonehenge; I saw something vaguely Asian ...</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> Our guide, Shanon, was born and grew up in this area of the island. He regaled us with stories as we floated. We passed fishermen offloading their catch; a few happy and proud cutting big fillets; and several who he said had left at dawn and came home with barely enough fish for their family's dinner with nothing left over to sell even to offset the cost of their day's fuel, and the latter scenario becoming more common. We paddled past a part of the lagoon edged with mangrove trees and talked about how they protected the coastline from erosion while their tangled roots provided a safe nursery for tiny fish to grow. We learned that in addition to the red, white, and black mangroves we were familiar with from our time in the Virgin Islands and Florida Keys, Aruba boasts a fourth kind, the native and iconic fofoti tree, now threatened by development pressure and climate change. He told us that the Papiamento language was a blend of words derived from Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, and native Arawak words, which we'd known, but not that there was a pattern to it, that for example the native names survived most in the names of places, plants, and animals (makes total sense when you think about it; those would have been the most important things to those first settlers). He pointed out the exception to this naming rule, a bird that looked to me to be a relative of a frigate bird. The scissorlike wing shape identified it as "skerchi." Little baitfish are "piskechi," pisca=fish(I'm guessing Latin derivation, same root word as pescetarian which is how we describe our diet); and -echi I'm guessing is a diminutive ending? In Spanish you can add -ito to a word to accomplish the same thing; in Yiddish it's -eleh; do all languages do this? Made me wonder if my favorite snack, pastechi, is the diminutive of pastry? (Which musing leads nicely into ...)<p></p><div>The other cool thing we got from him, was a lead on a really good place to get snacks. Locals tend more toward takeout ("takeaway") food than sit-down restaurants, we learned. And also these places are a lot cheaper while still being excellent. I'd been looking forward to pastechi, basically, turnovers stuffed with melted cheese, or shredded salt cod, or spiced cooked chicken, or any other number of tasty things. (Does every culture have some form of hand pies?) These were obviously made right on site -- the shop's name was pressed into the dough. They were as big as my hand, hot, filling and delicious. We both ate our fill and got change back from our $10 bill.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmZW5cci0nqyf0xhJ68qr42svX0kfy86ddp5jlt5ohK4AqA4k9sGzEJtj7W3YMkMTE2H9-eWY7zPoR73Mw0wLgPd7nANkc7HB2Xkh7DYgBilU5KGvsYC-q-ir1wgM_L-JSImvJ9yA56p-KMgV0CR14q0FcEV5qEqU6GfZ47KkkbvYn7hY8x02fSdn7MZE/s4032/IMG_6742.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmZW5cci0nqyf0xhJ68qr42svX0kfy86ddp5jlt5ohK4AqA4k9sGzEJtj7W3YMkMTE2H9-eWY7zPoR73Mw0wLgPd7nANkc7HB2Xkh7DYgBilU5KGvsYC-q-ir1wgM_L-JSImvJ9yA56p-KMgV0CR14q0FcEV5qEqU6GfZ47KkkbvYn7hY8x02fSdn7MZE/s320/IMG_6742.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pastechi! "Prikibos" is the name of the cafe, from a beloved local bird, and at the bottom edge you can see the letter K indicating that this one is filled with keshi (cheese)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-66995346457279008192024-03-13T17:37:00.002+00:002024-03-13T17:37:48.530+00:00Aruba 2024<p> This is a bit out of order. Yeah, I know I need to backtrack and write about getting back to our beloved Spanish tall ship work last autumn, but at the same time wanted to write about this one while it's fresh. So, here goes!</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXv1tNINh40T6YjVZKYySbpmhapaVNlhQ95ch-b3CZA3QXnJ8amV2S1iBsHtpy_1UzJ1WgGG2AY6rN_u4Jbk906icnM7IRSiepxflu5U1ZOiJD1zt8bjAHEz4b2WvXjnxOyuOHyHbEiSBYTQ62UJ6mepTJ8NWrVfazvcM6t6pYudok69Ze09CLkyDnOzs/s700/Aruba%20sign%20with%20jet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="700" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXv1tNINh40T6YjVZKYySbpmhapaVNlhQ95ch-b3CZA3QXnJ8amV2S1iBsHtpy_1UzJ1WgGG2AY6rN_u4Jbk906icnM7IRSiepxflu5U1ZOiJD1zt8bjAHEz4b2WvXjnxOyuOHyHbEiSBYTQ62UJ6mepTJ8NWrVfazvcM6t6pYudok69Ze09CLkyDnOzs/s320/Aruba%20sign%20with%20jet.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome sign downtown near the airport</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p>For the first time since Covid and Dan's disastrous diving experience in February 2020, we were ready to travel again. The beginning of the trip was stressful, magnified by the first air travel we've done since Covid. We checked into an airport hotel the night before. Our room was huge, actually two rooms put together into a king suite, and quiet on the top floor. But I wished I'd researched the online comments more carefully, because it was also about as dirty as I'd ever seen at a name chain hotel brand. I really expected to see roaches living in the relative warmth of the electric outlets, and decided to sleep in my clothes; didn't even want to get undressed to slip between those sheets. And simultaneously less of a treat or "pre-vacation vacation" than we were used to now that we're living on land part time. As is our custom though, we found a Mexican restaurant for a hearty night-before-travel meal. A tiny hole-in-the-wall place with excellent and authentic food. I admit to missing my margarita, though it's just not the same without Dan sharing with me. The hole-in-the-wall aspect foreshadowed our dining this trip; all casual locals places instead of Americanized sit down restaurants. </p><p>The airport was empty when we arrived at 7 AM. We blazed through security, checking our bags, and were directed to the (otherwise empty) TSA Clear lane. No taking off shoes or removing electronics, or 100-ml bottles of liquids in plastic bags; simultaneously delighted, and remembering this is how it used to be, and what we've had to become accustomed to. The terribly blunt instrument that is the US's security screening (I remember reading that we spend $7 per passenger for screening while the famously stringent El Al spends over $60) The airline had recommended arriving 3 hours early for an international flight, all in we were from curbside to gate in a little over 20 minutes. </p><p>We were among the last groups to board the plane (after chilling at the gate for 3 hours, ha) but this time Southwest's famous no-reserved-seats policy worked in our favor. The first two rows were occupied by couples who had tried the hack of sitting in the window and aisle seats, hoping no travelers would want the single seat in the middle... Wrong! I motioned to one, Dan to the other. Both couples promptly offered to switch seats so they could sit together, leaving Dan and me side-by-side in aisle seats, close enough to hold hands. And we were expecting to need that quick exit when we landed, because I had a bad feeling about our rental car. Too many people in the online Aruba group I belonged to had commented about the rental companies not honoring their reservations and giving the car away if they were even a little bit late. The front-row seats were handy too, as the flight was on the bumpy side.</p><p>We landed right on time and did the divide-and-conquer thing: Dan waited to collect both our checked bags while I with my backpack on fairly sprinted out of the terminal and across the street to the car rental place. Sadly, my stress was not misplaced; Dollar overbooked and didn't honor our reservation "but they could find us one with another company although at a higher rate." Ironically it was the same local company that I had tried to book as a backup when I first heard about the problems with rental car availability; but at the time they told me they had nothing available. In the end we got a great car from "Jay's" -- my namesake -- remarkably similar in size, shape, and even a similar gray color to our beloved Mitsubishi Outlander at home, and it had an A license plate and no big stickers with the company name on the door (advertising this is a tourist's car and might have good stuff for stealing). So now, I joked with the counter staff, everyone will think we're locals, and they won't cut us any extra slack in the roundabouts because they'll expect that we know our way around. Anyway we finally got to the resort just in time to check in and head to the beach to watch the sunset and begin to decompress. </p><p>As soon as the sun had set we made tracks for dinner; a nearby place as popular with the locals as with those relatively few tourists who knew about it (though it's been getting "discovered," we learned). There was so much new development in the intervening 4 years that we got semi-lost on the way there in the dark. We've had better, less roller-coaster vacation starts, but it began to settle down. I missed my wind-down rum (no time to buy that before the shops closed, and what they offered at the beach bar was ridiculously overpriced -- literally two drinks cost as much as a whole bottle at the liquor store.</p><p>Next morning, feeling much better, we went out for coffee and croissants on the beach bar, now transformed for more dignified use, the deck just steps from the ocean, watched the waves then walked along the water's edge for the length of the bight and back, 2 km, then headed off for mundane errands at a relaxed pace, groceries and a few items to round out the timeshare kitchen. This time our sunset drinks did include rum (mine, at least) and we watched the sun go down and the stars come out and headed back to dinner and eager to explore in the morning.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn0h28Cd7I1Wky6tu22tAY7GBTZJ-9ULBT40kaOZBnXmYIxWWhAuesOVNBfVfbXmvOWKtCP8Nsc8PH5_I3O-aYRd3uyMXzshDJtozvW1pSZ8lvFhOc387qJ1iXmVbWtBmnpzzP5riDsySFfvNmkQMTsLV0isKndq4ly3g5nYKlJAeZkVtSTIdGQ54NNEk/s4032/IMG_6717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn0h28Cd7I1Wky6tu22tAY7GBTZJ-9ULBT40kaOZBnXmYIxWWhAuesOVNBfVfbXmvOWKtCP8Nsc8PH5_I3O-aYRd3uyMXzshDJtozvW1pSZ8lvFhOc387qJ1iXmVbWtBmnpzzP5riDsySFfvNmkQMTsLV0isKndq4ly3g5nYKlJAeZkVtSTIdGQ54NNEk/s320/IMG_6717.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset on Druif Beach never ever gets old. The trade winds carried a lot of Saharan dust making the sky a brownish orange. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhku2_pzdvo23APkEW11pW0gqgC8ahS740mJyfM6_CTa4u7IVUcd1eu3TLbab5JV4fVPN4r2rhW3IY0xIdqWB4RZ_fT4XHkf6tIkcpOgyF0my98dVpoDRPoW3NAz0SeLGOzp7ZMJp4p-gswlEexphM15oNDvEqO4kDYbsQ8JXAwezUEdF-L0DZGbPlbAzk/s4032/IMG_6727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhku2_pzdvo23APkEW11pW0gqgC8ahS740mJyfM6_CTa4u7IVUcd1eu3TLbab5JV4fVPN4r2rhW3IY0xIdqWB4RZ_fT4XHkf6tIkcpOgyF0my98dVpoDRPoW3NAz0SeLGOzp7ZMJp4p-gswlEexphM15oNDvEqO4kDYbsQ8JXAwezUEdF-L0DZGbPlbAzk/s320/IMG_6727.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After a very long travel day and not enough sleep, having someone else prepare a meal of extremely fresh fish was wonderful</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKzV8noZOdfUnexf-Wic5D8vG9Ii1VYOEjpaR6op1yeS3yLrh-_xDRwC3GLkp9C-w2d9sHdKsAEE-vMIED-y7oSmUYeujj3azbrCa4FMMHMKWPZiMRLm9wwautQMw6EGTcSSqZlXsCydCYeP3QqkgfdYkR7eNb6_NF5sjmjNsNAnn6xwBJMLbs9XPiSbw/s4032/IMG_6729.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKzV8noZOdfUnexf-Wic5D8vG9Ii1VYOEjpaR6op1yeS3yLrh-_xDRwC3GLkp9C-w2d9sHdKsAEE-vMIED-y7oSmUYeujj3azbrCa4FMMHMKWPZiMRLm9wwautQMw6EGTcSSqZlXsCydCYeP3QqkgfdYkR7eNb6_NF5sjmjNsNAnn6xwBJMLbs9XPiSbw/s320/IMG_6729.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A beautiful morning to sit with a cup of coffee ... or two</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-32496546657249319062023-08-16T18:45:00.000+01:002023-08-16T18:45:15.796+01:00What We've Lost<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_h12gHV28FYRjMIR1GbxUFWjEx4mXuguy2rIBWkIk5nIWalYAPM_Mtcw-BdU87Lxzzy4TEt_9RejLPJ6AnX01lO0Fv6bnZXLSGjmBYqNLN9Rkif_ioIo2bGU75tcYgEKBlJnxjgVfvNm1_zJCLBXFcxPQCb-gHUl7VSGPLKUUD1UvYOXWjUyHNylhYQ/s2016/heron%20dawn%202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_h12gHV28FYRjMIR1GbxUFWjEx4mXuguy2rIBWkIk5nIWalYAPM_Mtcw-BdU87Lxzzy4TEt_9RejLPJ6AnX01lO0Fv6bnZXLSGjmBYqNLN9Rkif_ioIo2bGU75tcYgEKBlJnxjgVfvNm1_zJCLBXFcxPQCb-gHUl7VSGPLKUUD1UvYOXWjUyHNylhYQ/s320/heron%20dawn%202.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>For my birthday we got up well before sunrise and used our flashlights to hike into Elktonia, a Black beach from the history of segregation. The entrance is unmarked; you have to have been told or shown where it is. As a result, few people know about it and it's always peaceful and private. </p><p>I was struck by the fact that these people were never given the best sites, so if this forgotten beach was that beautiful still ... what must the other, "better" beaches have been like? What beauty have we lost? Maybe, though, the joke's on them -- this little piece of shoreline was too crappy to develop, and so was left untouched when all the prettier places around it were developed into condos. </p><p>When we were in Alaska and I felt small and a little scared by the vastness and power of the landscape, I wondered if the first Europeans to arrive at the relatively placid, but still wild, Chesapeake would have felt that same human insignificance? We need big landscapes in our lives to inspire us to awe.</p><p>It was a peaceful morning, the oftest lapping of tiny wavelets on the shore and a sentinel heron standing on a ruined piling, as the sky went from mysterious deep dusty blue, to pink, to orange, to gold, and then down to the brightness of an ordinary day. We breakfasted on giant cinnamon rolls from the bakery at our marina, and tried to process our thoughts from the early excursion. And coffee. Lots of coffee.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpnma-tbGanLBt3YiGx4iOKT5NNENwnlbPC_NmyiBIwm_82XcnFTiwq_WMzIF7_K-HhmKQswMX9m4FcG8Xnk6DLLE8GPvwILGyhWsAloYIlUucjzZa2kVRiywIUSHqofppm6VwqQ1nh10sK6iFhDy4iHpbn7nab22oomWmWBPZaz_8SVjJce0hlRiyxk/s2016/heron%20dawn%201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpnma-tbGanLBt3YiGx4iOKT5NNENwnlbPC_NmyiBIwm_82XcnFTiwq_WMzIF7_K-HhmKQswMX9m4FcG8Xnk6DLLE8GPvwILGyhWsAloYIlUucjzZa2kVRiywIUSHqofppm6VwqQ1nh10sK6iFhDy4iHpbn7nab22oomWmWBPZaz_8SVjJce0hlRiyxk/s320/heron%20dawn%201.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-40224808639704453882023-06-01T19:06:00.005+01:002023-06-02T01:15:56.513+01:00"Salty" Insight<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb58gD2x7oyd1YePLocMHKVndJxrzNuoI8vAGS8RRO3oADOHbUPYEKWsqx-hAzuQIITtSl5hbfScI-aXqBW4slB4rsgUQYaqKOatNqCbhB5NjeYlYEEQ-15lrVRehI35KiVhZ-sVFo7OEPpOokvfyv_txhtsl-12B2L8_cMyjkr_XNBOWU069lq6k0/s640/salt%201.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb58gD2x7oyd1YePLocMHKVndJxrzNuoI8vAGS8RRO3oADOHbUPYEKWsqx-hAzuQIITtSl5hbfScI-aXqBW4slB4rsgUQYaqKOatNqCbhB5NjeYlYEEQ-15lrVRehI35KiVhZ-sVFo7OEPpOokvfyv_txhtsl-12B2L8_cMyjkr_XNBOWU069lq6k0/s320/salt%201.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A <i>jar</i> of salt! (I'm used to salt being sold in a cardboard box or cylinder.)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>I've always been fascinated by ephemera – those humble, utilitarian objects designed to be temporary; fragments of ordinary life, that when moved from one culture to another, turn out to be not ordinary at all, and give some unexpected insights into the ways people in other parts of the world live.</p><p><br /></p><p>That's perhaps one of the joys of cruising, of being able to deeply immerse yourself into a new place, staying for longer and being outside of the typical tourist hotel bubble. And though we're not actively cruising right now, we're still cruising-adjacent. </p><p><br /></p><p>Annapolis is a great place for meeting people who are starting – or ending – their cruising careers. We once had some dock neighbours who were ending, after exploring the Mediterranean, crossing the Atlantic to the Caribbean, then coming up the coast here to sell their boat. In their final scurry to empty the boat of their personal possessions before turning it over to the new owners, we ended up being the casual recipients of a very eclectic group of leftovers completely out of context – a colourful t-shirt, two wine glasses, a screwdriver, a jar of olive oil, a jar of salt.</p><p><br /></p><p>This salt jar now lives on my kitchen counter. It's thoughtfully designed with a flat spot on one side so it can be used standing up in a cabinet, or leaning over next to the stove as a kind of “salt pig” to grab a pinch of salt while cooking. I used Google Translate to read the label, which informed me that it was crystal sea salt for grinding at the table. Only, I had a small typo the first time I keyed it into my phone. That is how I learned that in Turkish, the words for “grinding [salt] at the table” and “arguing at the table” differ by only a single letter. And now I have a mental image of a big table laden with exotically-spiced food, boisterous family gathered around for a dinner filled with laughter and good-natured “grinding” -- in both senses of the word. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6uZR2K5gcKdpFJPMmTJHt6cAFEUJmQ4i83b3mW0GmvAWzI2tKMxDH3xlvqPtQ5hcZBo6ok0iRIwJuzlJE_DaCCs1so8repGQwl8l7exHQGZSoSFXpm0-QAHhk07j3mEzs9xRZZ5T4Pe2XTsFCN2q_rnR6iETPRSisqTyjSQm3lRv0tkMcHWVoWsGP/s640/salt%202.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6uZR2K5gcKdpFJPMmTJHt6cAFEUJmQ4i83b3mW0GmvAWzI2tKMxDH3xlvqPtQ5hcZBo6ok0iRIwJuzlJE_DaCCs1so8repGQwl8l7exHQGZSoSFXpm0-QAHhk07j3mEzs9xRZZ5T4Pe2XTsFCN2q_rnR6iETPRSisqTyjSQm3lRv0tkMcHWVoWsGP/s320/salt%202.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seemingly unusual to American eyes, the jar can stand on its base or its side.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj-X3o1zGTqBcN4XuOLhGtsOJBE07_BL2MVlkbPjem0j8o8ESzU9_8kZQkNT_Nqx6NnycNOktfXWZi0h7AXDqFLvbRjRDN4x7SlCOMhRg30Zc6r-K28sdjAJz2C4IYohMlrrZkemTLeL5bBvpAnXxbGZgETn0WUUoaQmXnFbOwerfdUR9-7PZOFI6_/s640/salt%203.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj-X3o1zGTqBcN4XuOLhGtsOJBE07_BL2MVlkbPjem0j8o8ESzU9_8kZQkNT_Nqx6NnycNOktfXWZi0h7AXDqFLvbRjRDN4x7SlCOMhRg30Zc6r-K28sdjAJz2C4IYohMlrrZkemTLeL5bBvpAnXxbGZgETn0WUUoaQmXnFbOwerfdUR9-7PZOFI6_/s320/salt%203.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looked at up close, the grains are a wide range of sizes, and show the square crystal shapes that hint at slow evaporation, perhaps in the old-fashioned way, in a shallow pond in the sunlight</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>(Note: this casual jar of salt crystals is especially poignant to someone who grew up in a very different style, someone whose parents' table just <i>miiiiight</i> have included individual crystal salt cellars with tiny glass spoons at each place setting.)</p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-89654998583333830572022-05-26T21:12:00.000+01:002022-05-26T21:12:24.995+01:00The Blue-and-Yellow Challenge (for Ukraine)<p> </p><p>Almost immediately after the Russian invasion of Ukraine, our neighborhood turned blue and yellow. There were Ukraine flags on the houses, Ukraine bumper stickers on the cars, yellow sunflowers in blue flowerpots on porches. My Facebook page was filled with images "in support of Ukraine." And I was thinking, yeah, that's all quite nice, but ... how about some <i>tangible</i> support? And thus, my very own blue-and-yellow challenge was born. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdDXgb30Vjbq1ApL63zRhryVyKkcnekRFwYm14_u4oHoNv2MuuwjWhwGcMgyfbdHck6XAKsBKKsfXGpxNa8xVG-SJmvKRgwoLFTkD58e-NkZuJLz5IXfe_6XGB-ik8-564VfMYMxGPrsHhaP5oUWZi3DRJ6N1Tm_3JnFi5ASlvhD_wcHx1mTc4VqAZ/s743/IMG_2340.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="743" data-original-width="700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdDXgb30Vjbq1ApL63zRhryVyKkcnekRFwYm14_u4oHoNv2MuuwjWhwGcMgyfbdHck6XAKsBKKsfXGpxNa8xVG-SJmvKRgwoLFTkD58e-NkZuJLz5IXfe_6XGB-ik8-564VfMYMxGPrsHhaP5oUWZi3DRJ6N1Tm_3JnFi5ASlvhD_wcHx1mTc4VqAZ/s320/IMG_2340.JPG" width="301" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This little guy was posted on the first day, March 31. I promised to donate $1 to some relief effort for each person who commented on the picture. Later in the challenge I expanded it to include some intriguing facts or stories about each picture. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>That first photo obligated me to donate $47, by my own rules. There's a local restaurant that was sponsoring refugees in a tiny village in Slovakia and doing a fundraiser of their own. I liked the idea of direct giving, and of closing the loop -- this was the restaurant that hosted our sea shanty pub sings in happier times -- so they got our first day's pledges.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVuQbP8U8LEQpdQpFQkKzyNKaeFAt02TQoY06idOhIdRwClel-0WmsOR6bp9itoM6rylZFovLQ_qxGx32eKSSMqBczASC61Rp9Ne5dScad-pOz89w6mYTZeG1zIIyUw7mlwCRFI2Q-ozNvmQIlVAOrimL7p2iWtfNOhcuNGS1iV4SuA2ty9gGXYeZV/s1350/IMG_2207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVuQbP8U8LEQpdQpFQkKzyNKaeFAt02TQoY06idOhIdRwClel-0WmsOR6bp9itoM6rylZFovLQ_qxGx32eKSSMqBczASC61Rp9Ne5dScad-pOz89w6mYTZeG1zIIyUw7mlwCRFI2Q-ozNvmQIlVAOrimL7p2iWtfNOhcuNGS1iV4SuA2ty9gGXYeZV/s320/IMG_2207.JPG" width="256" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The second day's photo came with the story "...we have seen blue bioluminescence edging the waves like a strand of diamonds, camping overnight on a beach near Savaneta on Aruba. The next day was j’ouvert morning. The party started at 4 am so we didn’t want to waste money on a hotel room we’d only sleep in for half the night. And it turned out the beach camping was a glorious part of the adventure!"</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMFKo4Yz8A05SZgX4g59L7EuBt0JPL2CxkG8scCVR9Z-dE_h1EqKEIaqmhFtKDBv0xTKOGzS371ysGvLD8P2GVBchpLLiVFbJ7mR-f1LP02FH_YVBY1VT1-cuwM5TfLaBycKZJm4JpoLLBGeXObU6Arg5XBAuMVdVVgUjFhN8k0OTXDXE0TAbPoISb/s4032/IMG_2441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMFKo4Yz8A05SZgX4g59L7EuBt0JPL2CxkG8scCVR9Z-dE_h1EqKEIaqmhFtKDBv0xTKOGzS371ysGvLD8P2GVBchpLLiVFbJ7mR-f1LP02FH_YVBY1VT1-cuwM5TfLaBycKZJm4JpoLLBGeXObU6Arg5XBAuMVdVVgUjFhN8k0OTXDXE0TAbPoISb/s320/IMG_2441.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ukraine blue and yellow challenge day 3: Italian Deruta ceramic. Right before the world shut down at the end of February 2020, Dan was in a very serious scuba diving accident. We rented a beautiful furnished townhouse in Crescent Beach across the street from the ocean for him to heal. The townhouse was filled with lovely travel souvenirs, expensive musical instruments, and more, all graciously offered for our use. We were super careful with everything, but in the very last week we were there, we broke a ceramic spoon rest. I couldn’t find an exact replacement, but found this one instead that seemed to vibe with the owner’s style. Liked it so much I bought one for ourselves as well. And now every time I use it, (which is, um, every day) I’m reminded of the peaceful sunrises, reconnection with nature, and happy visits from friends we had while there. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The owner of the townhouse we rented was one of the commenters on my photo of the spoonrest. So it made perfect sense to have her choose the recipient of that day's pledge money; she selected a way to support a music-festival fundraiser. Doubly meaningful because she was personally affected. She's Russian and still has numerous family members in both Russia and Ukraine.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfjFOpwBaTyuECHi0CHcdD-q6xDmqRGJq94RnNjbBWTmEvkpJnWzQNQM6y3lOpXKTcBm91KMTfBKb5425_Da99nC6LYKxdxLwF5E2F71sfaPRY-s-gTJJqgQRuUXqTxsxtnMlflu_PgX2kXLbBToz2lh2MNVpfQgyjhB1dsVOTKaozyqNdYw7UlRPY/s1440/IMG_2342.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfjFOpwBaTyuECHi0CHcdD-q6xDmqRGJq94RnNjbBWTmEvkpJnWzQNQM6y3lOpXKTcBm91KMTfBKb5425_Da99nC6LYKxdxLwF5E2F71sfaPRY-s-gTJJqgQRuUXqTxsxtnMlflu_PgX2kXLbBToz2lh2MNVpfQgyjhB1dsVOTKaozyqNdYw7UlRPY/s320/IMG_2342.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ukraine blue-and-yellow photo challenge Day 4: colour palettes. Sometimes a work of art becomes the inspiration for something else, like the color scheme for decorating a room. In this case, Van Gogh's famous "starry night" painting inspired this unique yarn. Shout out to my crafty knitting friends!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg59jE_CFZRXbSXIGDLpb8Y4LNTb_377YnrdP0M5nOKGttugU0VddxpWPa-m6Nwj5XB0kQ9LA85M5q8UgSHUi-8xU_Ngoh-aakyOp3gDB_yBQ9vq9zlWsALMPF6YppcCBQsvUT_syeGXj58-pzHn8NjF_HK4P2_nEAibWuOJL7fgZrvE7WFLZSZ9bm-/s2045/blue%20angels%201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1220" data-original-width="2045" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg59jE_CFZRXbSXIGDLpb8Y4LNTb_377YnrdP0M5nOKGttugU0VddxpWPa-m6Nwj5XB0kQ9LA85M5q8UgSHUi-8xU_Ngoh-aakyOp3gDB_yBQ9vq9zlWsALMPF6YppcCBQsvUT_syeGXj58-pzHn8NjF_HK4P2_nEAibWuOJL7fgZrvE7WFLZSZ9bm-/s320/blue%20angels%201.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ukraine blue-and-yellow photo challenge Day 5: US Navy precision flying demonstration team "Blue Angels." They perform their amazing aerial stunts every May in Annapolis, they are inspiring. This fancy flying is a stylized version of something with an important purpose -- in a wartime situation these would be the techniques they'd use to avoid radar, or come in fast and low and then quickly rise out of range, or fly together so precisely that radar perceives only one object instead of 4, as the attached photo shows. FWIW, when we lived in Denver we learned that rodeo is similar in this regard - performance of a stylized version of what were everyday tasks (in that case, ranching). </td></tr></tbody></table><p>I was having fun, finding blue-and-yellow images everywhere! And I could tell that my challenge was growing and catching on; a friend who was a USNA grad saw this picture and offered to match the amount I pledged as a result of comments from that day. Another cruising friend told us about someone she knew personally, who was gathering baby food and medical supplies in the Czech Republic and bringing them into Ukraine under cover of darkness; we sent the day's pledges to him via PayPal.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ0x0uUpxklGDA3qYQfReOzLZK0S-ltRcPWPpsokfUrm5etmvD8pO0Fp7FDCgNYBKms5QpDkEqMuWUFb14O2eX8uwIqkvFSiJ0xoGYJS5rytg5_SPGHoyzpwfwwPK751-mXwhWo_1bH9KYbrXrqk_heEKqmpOKTppuL0lJVsPeNICPl1DmacpIWND4/s300/IMG_2369.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ0x0uUpxklGDA3qYQfReOzLZK0S-ltRcPWPpsokfUrm5etmvD8pO0Fp7FDCgNYBKms5QpDkEqMuWUFb14O2eX8uwIqkvFSiJ0xoGYJS5rytg5_SPGHoyzpwfwwPK751-mXwhWo_1bH9KYbrXrqk_heEKqmpOKTppuL0lJVsPeNICPl1DmacpIWND4/s1600/IMG_2369.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ukraine blue-and-yellow photo challenge Day 6: Abstract. This wasn’t the photo I had planned for today, but in light of the news of deliberate civilian casualties, here’s a reminder that we think of war as a distant abstraction (but it’s not!) As in the past, for each person who comments on the photo of the day we will pledge $1 to charity. Costs you nothing.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQwjRG5hS70_rubE3kfODwO1hvHnmAqTzR0Y0Q-ZBckzMkRoVfYpV4j_JISjgrQyrMcG3fXY23waA6OmuedZvYrZZNQpU6bEunYCVKtjAnZqa6lXEvFrvtGmVHQxrW_GnlfcCTEt4TymETVBcqFsleKnEt34cERCUs3D9FFqb-Jq-2VaK7Ln6Zi9li/s1096/IMG_E2522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1096" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQwjRG5hS70_rubE3kfODwO1hvHnmAqTzR0Y0Q-ZBckzMkRoVfYpV4j_JISjgrQyrMcG3fXY23waA6OmuedZvYrZZNQpU6bEunYCVKtjAnZqa6lXEvFrvtGmVHQxrW_GnlfcCTEt4TymETVBcqFsleKnEt34cERCUs3D9FFqb-Jq-2VaK7Ln6Zi9li/s320/IMG_E2522.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ukrainian blue and yellow photo challenge Day 7: Pysanka. These are Ukrainian decorated Easter eggs traditionally they are not painted but dyed. The designs are done using wax to protect areas of the eggshells from taking on dye, and the wax is either painted on with a pinhead (!!) or scratched in. The designs are incredibly intricate and colourful; if you google it it will look like a rainbow exploded on your screen. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcjsNDshgUAKPVFsqtgXVux0nBumaz7kvZtFujYhE55Lj0m2boD588-cIBkXfLkugxii6H5-XkMAQ2g9XcmAsw1CfxsDg4UuHZjHuMcWN_v0p7eq-uhWErdg1GLnfzO_e9TH2Ign7Ukltn3DnwhFMftR64Qal7macO3HCFak1spfJh76RkHizPIoUX/s500/blue%20and%20yellow%20Bali-Golden-Yellow-Belly-Damselfish.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcjsNDshgUAKPVFsqtgXVux0nBumaz7kvZtFujYhE55Lj0m2boD588-cIBkXfLkugxii6H5-XkMAQ2g9XcmAsw1CfxsDg4UuHZjHuMcWN_v0p7eq-uhWErdg1GLnfzO_e9TH2Ign7Ukltn3DnwhFMftR64Qal7macO3HCFak1spfJh76RkHizPIoUX/s320/blue%20and%20yellow%20Bali-Golden-Yellow-Belly-Damselfish.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ukraine photo challenge Day 8: Damselfish and Macaws. Kinda hard to top the intricate eggs from yesterday with anything else human made so I’ll let Nature show itself off today with tropical fauna of air and sea. (On FB this was side-by-side with the following photo)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfLF4AlobYrV9qunwW0JXUFlwrjYQLBNygUcyn4Su9_Qw6u_61V9R8TRRBSg-sdAEu0HfhH5MHZdsceHcmgEdAXo76_WGc8CZhlStM6JIpUuQYFb7dW44JWhWh8XfuE7GPdRoz_uP6WFTyj3MX2mzuZdcb2XyHi-Eu6rav_sCjdfSi_wxs3KgEkWlg/s832/IMG_2356.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="832" data-original-width="555" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfLF4AlobYrV9qunwW0JXUFlwrjYQLBNygUcyn4Su9_Qw6u_61V9R8TRRBSg-sdAEu0HfhH5MHZdsceHcmgEdAXo76_WGc8CZhlStM6JIpUuQYFb7dW44JWhWh8XfuE7GPdRoz_uP6WFTyj3MX2mzuZdcb2XyHi-Eu6rav_sCjdfSi_wxs3KgEkWlg/s320/IMG_2356.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br /><p>On Day 9 I was already approaching $250 of my own money plus $100 from our USNA friends so I started thinking about wrapping things up. I challenged other people who had been playing along to flood <i>their</i> timelines too!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxvD53xz_vhZzz2YfxCcgcVkOf85W-DUkabIjXng0BI6xQhaYbAIKvBR2OGzfRHVn0AZdyC0FIrxcg3BefwZ8U7jkqeheLRQXyWMHrVrJNNex4bAoYGiF5eLVEPftxR4uehOmtLietLfgmpw3nJnjPXAQP09SaTh-xNMmK2YBFBX_z0lhaIKEAB9sF/s1920/blue%20and%20yellow%20rope%20knot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxvD53xz_vhZzz2YfxCcgcVkOf85W-DUkabIjXng0BI6xQhaYbAIKvBR2OGzfRHVn0AZdyC0FIrxcg3BefwZ8U7jkqeheLRQXyWMHrVrJNNex4bAoYGiF5eLVEPftxR4uehOmtLietLfgmpw3nJnjPXAQP09SaTh-xNMmK2YBFBX_z0lhaIKEAB9sF/s320/blue%20and%20yellow%20rope%20knot.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"wrapping up"</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt3C1ipU8Tk4bhgJKJ-2Dz8fkT4Osq3cDwKHvqQsyg5RJTCVXLbzpw0I2gO7QCQBBiin1rTNmU5z6CS0F_nJuHlI3H04v_9hu753lw7_XR5dFLY1WOthuXa82opJJ_3e7yKxv9gl71hWh_x6endIqWRWCi0SYkrehj-gsHOx6ctCiZShXRc3XWWt4k/s2048/IMG_2430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt3C1ipU8Tk4bhgJKJ-2Dz8fkT4Osq3cDwKHvqQsyg5RJTCVXLbzpw0I2gO7QCQBBiin1rTNmU5z6CS0F_nJuHlI3H04v_9hu753lw7_XR5dFLY1WOthuXa82opJJ_3e7yKxv9gl71hWh_x6endIqWRWCi0SYkrehj-gsHOx6ctCiZShXRc3XWWt4k/s320/IMG_2430.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raise a toast -- we did it! Why did I say "we" did it? Because every comment my friends made -- even the snarky ones -- encouraged the algorithm to show it to more people, and then more and more ... and maybe, just maybe, made some people think.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-40895161915004212442022-02-09T20:03:00.003+00:002022-02-12T18:44:09.324+00:00Lagom<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmScFcqJVoVQRtlVV-hbQ_H-GYxpApWRonIKEEhSZMSmy_BZfNHXrxL9QAVVKtGf9T25_ZE4o0B-m4H9WXyACeGNo1cwrQXkEK2jQlM_x_uvSPdyHxyZLiJEP3BUpPlpdF1EEMIk5-KyqtE-AdUVEoEKd7DNTggpp8GxDU35RADezQgL8EzenX8Wj_=s1255" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="693" data-original-width="1255" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmScFcqJVoVQRtlVV-hbQ_H-GYxpApWRonIKEEhSZMSmy_BZfNHXrxL9QAVVKtGf9T25_ZE4o0B-m4H9WXyACeGNo1cwrQXkEK2jQlM_x_uvSPdyHxyZLiJEP3BUpPlpdF1EEMIk5-KyqtE-AdUVEoEKd7DNTggpp8GxDU35RADezQgL8EzenX8Wj_=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The term "laget om" (which translates to "around the team") dates back to the era of Vikings. It’s said a bowl of mead would be passed around in a circle and it was important that everyone only sipped their fair share so there was enough to go around. This evolved into the Swedish word "lagom," a lifestyle and design concept meaning just the right amount of anything.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>“Minimalism” may be the new design buzzword, but I call our apartment “minimal-<i>ish</i>.” Not austere, but not richly layered, either. More like, everything we need, and nothing we don't. Just like the boat does, the apartment offers us a place to sleep, a place to socialize, a place to cook, and a place to sit and think. These places are filled with useful tools and a few beautiful objects, just the right amount of each. I continue to be delighted at how easy it is to put everything in its place, how everything has room to breathe, and how comfortable that feels to me. Turns out, that sweet spot, that Goldilocks zone, has a name, and its name is “<a href="https://www.thespruce.com/what-is-lagom-5215553">lagom</a>.” A Swedish design concept of “just enough.” Well-styled, neat, calm, balanced, in equilibrium. Handled with restraint, and very individual. </p><p><br /></p><p>When I first started working at Rocky Mountain Arsenal, I went to the office supply cabinet and got what I needed, providing for myself with a few pens and binder clips, pads and file folders, and my favorite coffee mug. One day I was out at a meeting and my colleague Jeff had to find a document from my desk. “You have the exactly right amount of everything,” he said admiringly. “Your desk is so easy to find things!” </p><p><br /></p><p>“Well, of course,” I thought to myself. “I haven't been working here very long, I haven't had time for the mess to accumulate. I have the advantage of having started from the supply cabinet to fill a blank slate. Just give it time, and I'll have a chaotic messy desk, just like I left from my last job.” </p><p><br /></p><p>I had accidentally discovered lagom at that job, but doubted I'd be able to maintain it. Our apartment was “lagom” also, and again accidentally. I'd again achieved it by starting with a blank slate. What was sobering to me was that except for the furniture itself, almost everything in the apartment came from the boat. If that amount of possessions was “just right” for the apartment, no wonder it had felt choking to have that same amount of stuff in the far smaller confines of the boat! The challenge will be to see if we can take this newfound insight and put “just enough” back aboard when we move back to the boat in the spring. Meanwhile, here's a mini-tour of the apartment. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCEc80HeACrz-GvplKIi02dLnP7fuvjv_DZD4IeA2LxmUg3zxe86if85gb6V7TYYYlIeXKEeJgdSgIBouVZK_T85l8yq_qSw5rBfSxwokBhBve8Cn8yp6YOzRmjrrlthta7OPq4wqIRDbz7QDk5V5gnITJojFkS_dJpBbxRG8gOwOKbxx5f_UcYep_=s640" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCEc80HeACrz-GvplKIi02dLnP7fuvjv_DZD4IeA2LxmUg3zxe86if85gb6V7TYYYlIeXKEeJgdSgIBouVZK_T85l8yq_qSw5rBfSxwokBhBve8Cn8yp6YOzRmjrrlthta7OPq4wqIRDbz7QDk5V5gnITJojFkS_dJpBbxRG8gOwOKbxx5f_UcYep_=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost all the books on these bookshelves, and the items in the baskets (though not the baskets themselves) lived on the boat! Only the swirly lamp in the corner, and the blue glass canister, are new.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiq6ZKwMxACZXtl2BLh1Uv1DoOVslf-CkzEWPP7V055NmJBG5ZYUx3kmk5SBCYPHU2tXXVF2i0EBj3mjhXqDfjIo5zXUypCrITaYP4ZAj1NIf7X-uvTpvwZ2VUCLaBM1IxbI9X55_Lqe93HsqT1w4vPGxZ2Tmf9qocJDdNxMTsATlJEXw3hGY4yd_oI=s640" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiq6ZKwMxACZXtl2BLh1Uv1DoOVslf-CkzEWPP7V055NmJBG5ZYUx3kmk5SBCYPHU2tXXVF2i0EBj3mjhXqDfjIo5zXUypCrITaYP4ZAj1NIf7X-uvTpvwZ2VUCLaBM1IxbI9X55_Lqe93HsqT1w4vPGxZ2Tmf9qocJDdNxMTsATlJEXw3hGY4yd_oI=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feels odd to fit in a land-based kitchen again!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhqRoYSKsUqaEhRjJioDayIp4OBf3WnZ3RNHh8BOyWCh7oQHuHg7As8dwE9rnd0ODQpKuwkyXxlOp6KWLciyuNYW-ThcN6hbWUSaG1ZoAiXJ3sA-1VPQWa9Ta_873yDBCaz_FOSv68W0DzIeN1Hvu32gULrUaWb5t0hzZO16vnO563WtZvyagOy1Mrt=s1672" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="1672" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhqRoYSKsUqaEhRjJioDayIp4OBf3WnZ3RNHh8BOyWCh7oQHuHg7As8dwE9rnd0ODQpKuwkyXxlOp6KWLciyuNYW-ThcN6hbWUSaG1ZoAiXJ3sA-1VPQWa9Ta_873yDBCaz_FOSv68W0DzIeN1Hvu32gULrUaWb5t0hzZO16vnO563WtZvyagOy1Mrt=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Desk area is a bit different than the nav station on Cinderella! I've still got my beloved beaded bird. The blue glass vase on the lower left is probably close to 100 years old and belonged to my grandmother; I'm fascinated by the way its shape echoes the base of the desk lamp we bought at Target last autumn.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhObgN0gKm1dS_5A-IU6Om0BXnuomXSFarSW2dVn51rU_oJ9LZZeQs-mAJ5QbyGiF1Vfz3E_L1oGAtPq3jAipHhxo8o7MizSQANhs1pVhcLcb_bio3Bq66a5YuiooXnA0ZPZAkqUGjtlfYCxGQcoWN99Pb01Ts_udXTL1EkxTsYpjt1DWBY8KkDCbHz=s1672" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1672" data-original-width="1254" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhObgN0gKm1dS_5A-IU6Om0BXnuomXSFarSW2dVn51rU_oJ9LZZeQs-mAJ5QbyGiF1Vfz3E_L1oGAtPq3jAipHhxo8o7MizSQANhs1pVhcLcb_bio3Bq66a5YuiooXnA0ZPZAkqUGjtlfYCxGQcoWN99Pb01Ts_udXTL1EkxTsYpjt1DWBY8KkDCbHz=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rattan and glass dining table, and amber rope lights around the window in lieu of a chandelier.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwHwhLHRDImis31kxAF8vfPgjcmNXheObIJuIubpBgiQaKLMH1JtAWySkinQCYapiQAOKNl85SMAby7KN3_LSFnKjaVUpTmJcF6X2CEsYMlzv-Yb1NDg7gbXiFu0nILjVyeZg3tue4bImtCCDp4EMmDJyBYfZh3pLpQ3Wqtx7zLWIZr7gChv_jKF1y=s1672" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="1672" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwHwhLHRDImis31kxAF8vfPgjcmNXheObIJuIubpBgiQaKLMH1JtAWySkinQCYapiQAOKNl85SMAby7KN3_LSFnKjaVUpTmJcF6X2CEsYMlzv-Yb1NDg7gbXiFu0nILjVyeZg3tue4bImtCCDp4EMmDJyBYfZh3pLpQ3Wqtx7zLWIZr7gChv_jKF1y=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The massive stone fireplace is a dominant feature in the living room. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjK2bCNpOrjRLfkuEoJD1CmT71fE3GEK2xpt0QW7iYBVlu5dFE3iCEUdt5_CHRcIoZ5VTr7gY13EyHkgEuQHzO3noeiGCNAUNZdJW8c8QSBwb-0KZe2I_StNl7RO8m3yGyqFobrKdP6-raHA69hu4TC4HeD2bIMFbj1NH5EuI8VwCr4k_PUvJYUyxIP=s1672" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="1672" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjK2bCNpOrjRLfkuEoJD1CmT71fE3GEK2xpt0QW7iYBVlu5dFE3iCEUdt5_CHRcIoZ5VTr7gY13EyHkgEuQHzO3noeiGCNAUNZdJW8c8QSBwb-0KZe2I_StNl7RO8m3yGyqFobrKdP6-raHA69hu4TC4HeD2bIMFbj1NH5EuI8VwCr4k_PUvJYUyxIP=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moving day! Trying to guess which piece of furniture was which, when everything is hidden in bulky moving blankets. Wondering if we'd still like the choices we made when we packed this stuff away 20 years ago.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCAgwN7e6kdpnTSy31ezt59X_oDdg2-gjDfOjFXgFhCW9zmCxMLTkwSv2gMumzsDD76-cmUkAOg0YZqKddPDWU1frhIjeF3IhIRNpl-hRcB9W4p-2VSD41Oc5BQz1Jmfzw-hb8o0VlixEwiV0qYqxYeY_D9_puernt3ENXmf-yWOLHRZaVzQstFSXC=s1672" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="1672" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCAgwN7e6kdpnTSy31ezt59X_oDdg2-gjDfOjFXgFhCW9zmCxMLTkwSv2gMumzsDD76-cmUkAOg0YZqKddPDWU1frhIjeF3IhIRNpl-hRcB9W4p-2VSD41Oc5BQz1Jmfzw-hb8o0VlixEwiV0qYqxYeY_D9_puernt3ENXmf-yWOLHRZaVzQstFSXC=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sculptural black "spiral chairs" were an indulgence we could barely afford back in the 1990s when we fell in love with them. Happy to report we like them just as much now. A feng shui consultant had us rearrange the room and put them in front of the windows instead of by the fireplace, and swap places with the sectional sofa, as you perhaps noticed in another pic. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-53776596850850996882022-02-09T18:32:00.005+00:002022-02-12T18:42:09.325+00:00It's Not Luck (or at least, not “just” luck)<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEidnq0847fw_THVjeYEUxhNNIipmdsRswjB_LysiDJFaQNWPQYKZ0eEaELQBnabSY6vNZz7UaR25SftLgnkPXkUOI-gZq5YFsgJjxYc1D-xc64_glGC0S4DOW0RqOCl2erfM7QLibS-ljhuknYtQOH5mp2r8-Ank4qPZRcq_ZyrZEm0ljmAZrkEsMAr=s480" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="480" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEidnq0847fw_THVjeYEUxhNNIipmdsRswjB_LysiDJFaQNWPQYKZ0eEaELQBnabSY6vNZz7UaR25SftLgnkPXkUOI-gZq5YFsgJjxYc1D-xc64_glGC0S4DOW0RqOCl2erfM7QLibS-ljhuknYtQOH5mp2r8-Ank4qPZRcq_ZyrZEm0ljmAZrkEsMAr=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucky? Synchronicity? Or something else? </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>On our very first time in St Augustine we met historic reenactor James, who was telling the story of Black history connection to the town. He looked at us and said, “You guys don't seem like tourists. You're not just after photographing yourselves in front of the typical postcard hotspots, posting it online, and then moving on, I can tell. You are travelers, and you are trying to go slow and really understand the places you visit.” He was right … but also, he intrigued us enough to make us want to learn even more. We slowed our northbound sailing trip, lingered in town for a while, learning more and more about it and its unique contributions to the character of Florida and the US. That interaction with James was the syncronicity, the lovely coincidental meeting that started us on the path to eventually moving to St Augustine and making our full-time careers about living history. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgp7d2A50GqTHeHWCFPmmQwpusP-cPZIcCODqeQHU11ePwW7LOhaL0MBxwl2OT5ZXx4PtLv18l8A-TeXyzIrnziqn7pPGRwBQaWNP-OUzL6l5VZ58zv7NbdZLhG8pcxEYc3qOalab7z-GM_a5hjn-CXngwLdlpcQbly21onRDZI4G_8DbKhW6ZiHfTZ=s960" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgp7d2A50GqTHeHWCFPmmQwpusP-cPZIcCODqeQHU11ePwW7LOhaL0MBxwl2OT5ZXx4PtLv18l8A-TeXyzIrnziqn7pPGRwBQaWNP-OUzL6l5VZ58zv7NbdZLhG8pcxEYc3qOalab7z-GM_a5hjn-CXngwLdlpcQbly21onRDZI4G_8DbKhW6ZiHfTZ=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our magical little historic town!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>I was having a conversation with friend Stacey about syncronicity in life, and whether it was unusually prevalent in cruising:</p><p><br /></p><p>“You know the way a soldier can put himself in harm’s way? I believe you can put yourself in luck’s way as well,” I told her. Cruising is built for this … as you make yourself available to opportunity. Jaye was standing in line to get our mail and chatting with the person in line next to her. That person turned out to be the manager of the Spanish tall ship docked in town. She invited us to stop by for a tour. So we did. That was the first step -- then it was “oh you have historical garb? Come by, we are doing a photo shoot and could include you.” And again, we did. Next thing we knew, we were volunteering as tour guides on the ship, Dan was helping with the carpentry, and Jaye was learning to cook a few Spanish menu items. And then, “Bring your passports, you’re in bunks #9 and #10, we’re going sailing.” Wow! Sign me up! We became members of the crew, put thousands of sea miles under the keel, and had the most amazing experiences for the next 4 summers. </p><p><br /></p><p>“So being open, and having the garb because you have a passion for history, etc.?” Stacey asked. </p><p><br /></p><p>I think it was about being open and flexible to adjust our schedules to take advantage of the opportunities offered. In our case it was having the historical garb that opened the doors (or paved the way or whatever metaphor you'd like to apply), but it could have been anything. Someone else might have had knitting needles and would offer to teach, or a camera or charcoals to offer to make images, or ... hmmm... musical instruments to offer to play, it would have been the same. Freely offer your unique talents, let those make connections, and then follow where those connections lead you. </p><p><br /></p><p>Are we lucky? Sure, luck played a part in our having adventures. What if James hadn't been working at the park that day? What if the person in line at the post office wasn't in a sociable mood that morning? That part was luck, but we put ourselves in luck's way as well, by responding to those opportunities. They didn't take us where we <i>expected</i> to go, but in the end, when we followed where chance led, those opportunities took us to a place that was even better than the one we could have planned for ourselves. In the words of my idol, mathematician and Danish WWII resistance member Piet Hein, “We can only hope … but not ONLY 'only hope.'” </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0ZxkdcXquAEI1EsRdB3kGSzbfjRMKZjgy5gv1ZyMjVbEMVOCZNuKHJk7xSu8C1wr5gbbL6T_CmMYzbJ1oSSCukjRRV8MgLjUj3AZM5CmV_FyRfb2N50xCGpsU4vA_Ycl_DySz4LYzE7f6RiiLdGG9vDkcQnnBt1KBRpORkTZM4gKMPawr-Hx7gDw5=s960" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0ZxkdcXquAEI1EsRdB3kGSzbfjRMKZjgy5gv1ZyMjVbEMVOCZNuKHJk7xSu8C1wr5gbbL6T_CmMYzbJ1oSSCukjRRV8MgLjUj3AZM5CmV_FyRfb2N50xCGpsU4vA_Ycl_DySz4LYzE7f6RiiLdGG9vDkcQnnBt1KBRpORkTZM4gKMPawr-Hx7gDw5=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dan says this photo makes it look like they are headed out to sea and he's looking back at the shoreside pleasures he's leaving behind. But I think he's thinking that St Augustine is too darn cold to spend the day greeting visitors on the foredeck of the Galeon!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><div>NB: I'm excited! This is my 500th Life Afloat post! I definitely wouldn't have believed that I'd be able to keep that momentum up when I started blogging.</div>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-13314897825158121582022-02-06T19:15:00.000+00:002022-02-06T19:15:02.307+00:00“Begin With The End In Mind” (A Decluttering and Minimizing Lesson Plan)<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilF6NzGrvzhXq8ujmLnculyDtFRaGtugg9l-QnQoyqkPtiDZmBiGG7PwPGfk35Y3uUNRIroMS4jNVYU6vEm5kKIroo6FCMFQUwlJGCVC53HUg780KxMqxKPlY_Rp2ZZtTquAvlx-YoZ9ePxaZk5ELxcYsC-cZCEzXzZvjkte4bEtXjtZ8vDWXs0cyF=s1334" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1334" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilF6NzGrvzhXq8ujmLnculyDtFRaGtugg9l-QnQoyqkPtiDZmBiGG7PwPGfk35Y3uUNRIroMS4jNVYU6vEm5kKIroo6FCMFQUwlJGCVC53HUg780KxMqxKPlY_Rp2ZZtTquAvlx-YoZ9ePxaZk5ELxcYsC-cZCEzXzZvjkte4bEtXjtZ8vDWXs0cyF=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Some things are in your life for a reason, some for just a season..."</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>Once we reconciled ourselves to the fact that streamlining and organizing our possessions wasn't a job that was done once and stayed done, it became, if not easy, then at least easi<i>er</i> to begin the process of reevaluating everything that would continue to live with us. There were actually two destinations we would consider for our stuff – one for what would move back onto the boat with us, and a second for what would live in our ultimate apartment (not the one we were currently in, but hopefully years in the future when our boat life was done). Additionally we would end up doing the evaluation for what to keep twice – once when moving into the apartment, and once again when we moved back aboard; hopefully with less stuff, but with each piece being more meaningful. That was the “end” we had in mind. We were going to touch and think about every single item, many of them more than once. </p><p><br /></p><p>We had learned a lot about downsizing when we first moved aboard from the house in Michigan to the boat (can it really have been 20 years ago?) and had to choose perhaps a tenth of everything we owned to bring with us – and still ended up with too much! Further complicating the thought process back then, it was an era when the opportunities for digital books, music, and photos was still quite limited and labor-intensive to create where it was possible at all. The strategies and insights and approaches we used then worked even better this time around. Two major insights helped us frame things in our minds, and three strategies got it done.</p><p><br /></p><p><b>Major insight 1</b>: Have a “litmus test” or “guiding principle” – a question, or series of questions, that would have yes/no answers to make the process of deciding automatic. Our guiding principle would be a blend of William Morris' classic advice “Have nothing in your home that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful” (and my own addition, “or that makes you smile”) and cruising mentor Linda's advice to prioritize “first safety, then tools, then everything else” when packing. Almost 20 years aboard, plus the uncertainties of pandemic-era supply chain interruptions, had us with too much of some things, and not enough of others.</p><p>I've heard lots of other litmus-test questions: the trendy “Does this spark joy?” question never sparked joy for me. “Would you save this if there were a fire and you had just a few minutes to get out?” reminded me of a friend who lived in California; during wildfire season, he packed his priority possessions, vital documents, medications, hard drive, and dog in the car every time he let home for an errand in case his home was engulfed. “Would you buy this again if you saw it in the store right now?” didn't resonate for me; most of the things I value most have value not because of their worth, but their memories. “Would you pack this if you were moving overseas?” had me thinking of M's move from the sunny Caribbean to chilly gray northern Europe. I channeled our several hurricane evacuations and started thinking, category by category. Basically everything had to be useful, or beautiful, or make me smile. Then I refined it again – is this the best version of the thing? Is it possible to have something else do the same job as this thing just as easily and well? Would it be better to get rid of this particular thing and treat ourselves to an upgraded version of the thing?</p><p><br /></p><p><b>Major insight 2</b>: Deciding what you want to <i>keep </i>is a very different mindset than deciding what you want to <i>get rid of</i>. We couldn't just subtract out the clutter and assume that everything that remained would magically work out. We'd very likely end up with a random jumble, too much of one thing and too little of another. (This was most apparent in clothing – just subtracting the pieces I didn't like, I'd still end up with too many shirts and too few pants, too many dressy clothes and too few casual clothes, and those that remained didn't necessarily match or work well together, or cover the range of activities in our lives.) Instead, the only thing that worked for us when we did the initial downsizing to move aboard, and then again this winter, was to start with a blank slate, and only add to it what we knew we needed/wanted, by “shopping” our own possessions. It was also much easier when we decoupled the two questions “Do I want to keep this?” from “What's the best/most lucrative/environmentally friendly/charitable way to get rid of the things we no longer want?” No guilt – “Like leaves on trees in autumn,” I reminded myself. Similar to the work clothing that I donated when I retired, some things were helpful in my life for a season, but now it's time to let them gently fall away. </p><p><br /></p><p>We promised ourselves that we wouldn't get rid of anything that made us resent the entire process. Most especially artwork, souvenirs of our travels, and other memorabilia, might not all fit on the boat, but we didn't want them permanently gone from our lives. Pirate garb and swords, collections, heirlooms, out-of-print books … anything that couldn't be replaced simply with cash by buying it again when our boat days were done, would go into the rented storage unit. </p><p><br /></p><p>So, knowing we wanted to end up with intentional things only, we started by category, and had a few fun strategies for each.</p><p><br /></p><p><b>The auto-fill strategy</b>:</p><p>For the kitchen, we modified a trick Dan had used to advise his clients when we had the design-remodel business. “Empty the cabinets completely and put everything – Every. Single. Thing – in the basement,” he'd advise. “Now, go live your ordinary life. When you need something, a pot or a gadget, whatever, simply go down to the basement and get it. Use it, and when you are finished, wash it and put it away in the now-empty cabinet. Occasionally as time goes on you'll feel too “lazy” to go downstairs to get something for a specialized task, and will improvise by using something that's already in the kitchen, and that's okay. In fact it's good, as you'll realize in a minute. At the end of a month or so, you'll have a kitchen (sparsely) filled with things you actually use, and a basement full of things you really don't need.” Without a lot of introspection, this process made the sorting job pretty much do itself. The apartment didn't have a basement, but it did have an inconvenient cabinet reachable only by a stepladder, that served the same purpose in the scheme. The tupperware freezer containers made the grade. The special fluted tart pan with the removable bottom … didn't.</p><p><br /></p><p><b>The shopping list strategy</b>:</p><p>When it came to clothing, I found I wanted to be a little more analytical, and incorporate some of what I'd learned by having to live so minimally during those 4 tours of duty on the tall ships, plus elements of my experiments with capsule wardrobes in a single colorway and a foray into limiting myself to only 33 items of clothing for 3 months. “Imagine you had lost all your clothing in a fire,” I fantasized. “Now you're standing in a huge, posh department store with a generous insurance settlement check in your hand. What would your shopping list look like?” Now, write down that list, starting from scratch, and “shop” it from what you already own. If the list says you need 4 t-shirts? Pick your 4 favorites and let the rest go. Need a pair of black pants and don't own any you like? Well, get rid of the ones you don't like, and buy an upgrade to a better quality better fitting pair you do like.</p><p>In my working days, with two weeks between laundry trips, for each season my list would have included something like: 5 pants, 10 tops, 3 blazers for work days all in one coordinated colorway; 1 or 2 dark suits. 2 jeans, 4 t-shirts and a hoodie for weekends. 2 sparkly outfits for going on the town, 2 outfits suitable for Sunday brunch with friends and a visit to a museum, 2-3 high-tech fabric outfits for backpacking, something for a wedding, 2 or 3 things for working out, and something grungy for painting the boat, plus 5 things that aren't strictly necessary but are just plain fun. I have an oversize rainbow sweater that fits this category, and a bright-orange Hawaiian shirt. In simpler retired pandemic times, and with a washing machine right in the apartment kitchen, I ended up with 4 t-shirts, 2 jeans, 2 chinos, 2 nice pants, 4 nice tops, 2 hoodies, 2 sweaters, a fleece long underwear and a wool one; and the backpacking, workout, and painting clothes from before. Hiking boots, walking shoes, tennies, sandals, and one dressy flats, 8 pairs of shoes total. So easy! Everything I needed to own, would fit in two airline carry ons.</p><p><br /></p><p><b>The Space-A strategy</b> (military shorthand for “space available”):</p><p>I've seen people do this with kids who tend to be overwhelmed. They get a cool toy box and are told they can only keep what fits in the box, so choose your favorites. News flash – this same technique works for adults too!</p><p>When we lived in Colorado our bookshelves and display cabinets were just jammed with books and art objects. There was so much “everything” that you couldn't appreciate “anything” and books were stacked two layers deep. One day we took everything out and put it on the dining room table. We took turns placing things back, starting with our favorites. As soon as either of us felt a shelf was pleasant but not overly full, the space available appropriately used, they could call that shelf complete before they took their turn. The rest of the things had to go away, to be given away, or kept in storage to be rotated in and out museum style. We felt quite accomplished – until, when we put the house on the market, friend J. staged the house and subtracted half of even what was left!</p><p>Most art objects, if they were going to stay in our lives at all, were going to stay on the land side. If they stayed on the boat they'd become clutter and were likely to be tossed around and broken in even moderate seas. So it became a decision process of just making sure we didn't over stuff our availabe space. (We found more things that we loved than we could comfortably display at one time, so plan to do a rotation, museum style.)</p><p>As for the books themselves, my plan had been to replace some that you read linearly (like novels) with their digital versions for space-saving purposes, and keep some of the most special ones in hardcover – reference books, coffee table books with big luscious pictures, and out-of-print classics. I had grandiose plans to unpack the dozen or so cartons of those (mostly science fiction from the 1930s-1960s) and reminisce. (Of course, I also had grandiose plans that retirement would consist of life in a little stone cottage on a bluff in New England, with long after dinner walks on crunchy leaves. A tweed jacket and a pipe may also have been involved. Yeah, none of it worked out that way.) The thing is, that many of those visions from the 1960s didn't age that well. The bolder the visions were, the more likely they were to become cringe-y as the world didn't evolve along those lines and the baked-in prejudices and assumptions of the era came glaringly to light. Instead of gentle nostalgia they were probably just going to bring me dismay. Not for nothing, I also learned that the cost of replacing some of those books would add up to more than I was willing to invest. So it was kind of back to the drawing board in that realm. </p><p><br /></p><p>Despite the fact that it was startling to see how much stuff had been on the boat – enough to spread out into a whole apartment! – what we ended up with felt calm, orderly, spacious, intentional. Every single thing felt chosen, important, used. And putting things away was easy, no more locker-Tetris! Now to see if we could get to that level on the far greater challenge of the boat, with less space but more necessary items for tools, safety, and, you know, actual sailing.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-5205839858240776842022-01-25T17:43:00.002+00:002022-02-02T17:51:26.564+00:00 Ashore Again<p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgwHT3dOITP1eSNybEUZDu8PNW421QfW5LXgHTGjl9GqalMFbjcmGqsIVcKYNArhLcE9mZyNC2CWy43TVCkoShaHDlCUcZ28G-8htGBYN5LIkvbi5sm_4ezQ7r7SUV-kBtR59FMJMkF3ZkXY3vs4Y-ULiBwgNfX52W2lPZy5jdl-kWXFVkhjzZSIgu=s1672" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1672" data-original-width="1254" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgwHT3dOITP1eSNybEUZDu8PNW421QfW5LXgHTGjl9GqalMFbjcmGqsIVcKYNArhLcE9mZyNC2CWy43TVCkoShaHDlCUcZ28G-8htGBYN5LIkvbi5sm_4ezQ7r7SUV-kBtR59FMJMkF3ZkXY3vs4Y-ULiBwgNfX52W2lPZy5jdl-kWXFVkhjzZSIgu=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A massive stone fireplace is the first clue that we're definitely not on our sailboat at the moment! (The chimney needed to be cleaned out, so we couldn't light a fire. The rope lights swirled in lieu of logs on a whimsical moment) </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Once again we find ourselves temporarily living on land. We had several very practical reasons to be off the boat for a while. Being reluctant to face a second Maryland winter aboard was one, and this winter promised to be snowier and colder than the last one. Also we were needing a place for Dan to recover from the FUS treatment. We had been were warned that the treatment could affect balance for a while after, and though luckily that phase passed quickly, we hadn't known that at the time. And when you're having balance issues, stepping from an icy dock onto a moving sailboat is probably not the best option. We'd been a bit disillusioned with the suburban location at the marina anyway – too far away to easily, spontaneously participate in the cultural opportunities of downtown; and yet not far enough away to give us the restfulness of pristine nature. We sort of had the worst of both in a car-centric location. (Funny bit of trivia – birds in suburbia chirp louder than forest birds, due to having the sound competition of cars and lawnmowers and trash trucks and other suburban conveniences.) And then, at exactly the right time for us, an opportunity presented itself of a cool place to rent, 10 minutes drive away from the boat and 15 minutes walk to downtown.</p><p><br /></p><p>But in addition to the practical reasons, we were also feeling an increasing need to hit a giant reset button and sift through our possessions again. In every single category it felt like we had Just. Too. Much. “Our boat is choking on our stuff!” Dan complained. It was true. There wasn't a single locker that wasn't packed with absolutely all it could hold. (Hey, no worries about things shifting and breaking if we are rocked by a wave! Things are absolutely jammed in, holding each other in place, no where to go!) Getting anything out required taking three other things out first, then carefully putting everything back in precisely the right order, interlocking. It was psychologically exhausting and the lack of air flow around things made it a more likely breeding ground for mold.</p><p><br /></p><p>So what had first started as a hurricane evacuation necessity for us years ago has since become a regular practice of emptying all our stuff to somewhere and sorting it into what needs to stay aboard and what goes into storage. Hard to believe after our trip with Big Yellow Truck little more than a year ago we were feeling the need to do it again, but it seemed that was the case, so we were off and packing. </p><p><br /></p><p>And the weirdest thing happened – all our stuff fit smoothly, comfortably into the rental. That sounds unsurprising … until you realize that our stuff <i>shouldn't</i> have fit. We lived on a 33-foot sailboat. We were moving into a 1000-square-foot apartment. There should have been tons and tons and tons of space left over. But there wasn't. </p><p><br /></p><p>Our kitchenware spread out and filled an ordinary smallish land-based kitchen. Granted that things were spread out more than they were aboard, and hence were easier to access, but still, they “shouldn't” have needed that much space. There was an entire drawer with a silverware organizer instead of a small tube that held our forks and knives and spoons all together in one end of a small drawer, and a crock next to the stove for tools instead of aligning them in the other side of that same drawer. Our canisters of rice and beans neatly filled a couple of pantry shelves instead of being carefully tucked under the heavy electric wire that ran along the top of a locker to power the windlass. It wasn't difficult to put everything in its place, it was just surprising that we had so much. How had we ever gotten it all into the boat to begin with? No wonder we felt choked! </p><p><br /></p><p>Our clothing fit in the dressers; there was enough room around everything to put things away easily. But I would have expected whole empty drawers left over after we'd put our things in, which didn't happen. Our books didn't over-fill the book shelves, but they filled them. Et cetera, et cetera. The end result was an apartment that felt comfortable and calm, certainly not stuffed but not minimal either. And a lot of head scratching – how had all this ever fit onto the boat to begin with???</p><p><br /></p><p>Sorting, decluttering, streamlining, minimizing – we've got our winter's work cut out for us. The hope is to use the space in the apartment to (once again) rethink what we have, and when we do move back aboard to do it with less accumulation. </p><p><br /></p><p>The furniture, of course is not included in what feels like our glut of possessions. On the boat, everything was built in, so on land we needed to source a desk, a bed, a table, some chairs, etc. It was fun to revisit things we had packed away 20 years ago, when we thought we'd only be cruising for a few years before moving on to the next fun thing, and realize we still liked the choices we had made back then. </p><p><br /></p><p>We “shopped” from the items we had in storage to furnish the apartment. It was quite the guessing game to figure out which lumpy piece, meticulously wrapped in padded moving blankets, was which. And it was stunningly unhelpful to find boxes that some mover had written “picture” with a black sharpie. Um, yes, thanks, I can see that, since the box is pre-printed with a label that says “glass, picture, do not lay flat” on all sides. (But it really would have helped to have known if it was a picture that came from the living room, or the office, or the bedroom.) My favorite was a 7-foot roll labeled “rug.” Not quite sure what else it could have been mistaken for…</p><p><br /></p><p>We felt like the apartment was set up, but Dan pointed out what was all around us but had not been acknowledged. We had “moved in,” but not really settled in. We were just here temporarily. We never hung artwork. We never unpacked our very most precious antique furnishings, favorite lamps, Grandma's quilts. Partly that was by design, to keep the calm, light, minimalist vibe the apartment seemed to require. A spiritual friend who visited said she felt a very light aura, but whether that was the ghost of the former owner or our decorating style or both she couldn't say. To me artwork on the walls draws the eye, defines the mood, and also is an anchor that grabs the eye and stops its flow, demanding attention. The blank walls, on the other hand, gave nothing for the eyes to purchase, just glided past, receded. But also, “We've never really taken ownership of this place,” Dan observed. We don't want to, I think. If we really move in, surrounded by things that have deep meaning for us, would it be the first step toward transitioning off the boat and back to land-life, our adventuring done as we approach old age? Or even simply harder to uproot ourselves again at the end of winter? We do like the in-unit washing machine, and the solidity. The apartment doesn't rock in the wind like the boat does. In fact, we barely notice the weather outside, wind or rain or cold, with a massive system to keep the temperature constant. Better not to get too comfortable, because for all its rewards our life afloat does require some sacrifices. For now we are in a fabulous apartment in a superb location … and we can't wait to get back to the boat. C'mon spring!</p><p><br /></p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-28777470189401446962022-01-13T20:09:00.000+00:002022-01-13T20:09:14.845+00:00A Fort You Can See, and a Fort You Can't<p>I alluded in a previous post about how different the Castillo felt, nearly empty of visitors. Perhaps that contributed to my lack of feeling any emotion at the visit. Had an email exchange with a friend who is one of the park rangers stationed there: "Saw [mutual friend X] at the Castillo when we visited last week ... it was weirdly empty and quiet without school kids or soldados, etc. Hope everyone stays safe and we're back to normal (or "new normal" whatever that looks like) soon." </p><p><br /></p><p>"It has indeed been strange, for those of us who remember the Before Times!" my friend replied. "What's also interesting is, we have a number of new employees who have come on board since March 2020 who have <i>no idea</i> what "normal" looks like for this place." So, a brief photo tour, of the Fort you can no longer see, and what it looks like now. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAf7CGDcsLRX0WDnGzvioje-dXxQrdbK_bNetnZM3VDrx_rMmkfW1qpTvmspInqsdET241GP_-pCzchk85n1OctzTByc3s4o5tRyF9z1QSNfl3gRueh8rs5zySUM7Ges6QsFBgym0uPhqj60d_OAAp3xddNSS8W2vvbZGm69geedGHJ8Zf3_5gQx8x=s960" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAf7CGDcsLRX0WDnGzvioje-dXxQrdbK_bNetnZM3VDrx_rMmkfW1qpTvmspInqsdET241GP_-pCzchk85n1OctzTByc3s4o5tRyF9z1QSNfl3gRueh8rs5zySUM7Ges6QsFBgym0uPhqj60d_OAAp3xddNSS8W2vvbZGm69geedGHJ8Zf3_5gQx8x=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the "Before Times" costumed reenactors helped visitors understand what things might have been like. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJrGWv8ptCdMXOTzT6aNOJ_F6HcQX1i6U-_N-2fQRpl-LxB2pJInfVx_7q8ZePHbgn9BEA4aSYX5Hfqpeaf7M_q88ShAqH4gPgZEc29QWEAcoZiR2sNY4rIy6m9bhMfXb7ONIXrPbCruPSv2mhb0y21I4y3Osu74D5dAfP3X4-SGDqNqZXyAyumvaS=s960" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJrGWv8ptCdMXOTzT6aNOJ_F6HcQX1i6U-_N-2fQRpl-LxB2pJInfVx_7q8ZePHbgn9BEA4aSYX5Hfqpeaf7M_q88ShAqH4gPgZEc29QWEAcoZiR2sNY4rIy6m9bhMfXb7ONIXrPbCruPSv2mhb0y21I4y3Osu74D5dAfP3X4-SGDqNqZXyAyumvaS=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Special night events, candlelight tours, added the aura of mystery. We've attended and participated in many of these events, often portraying shipwrecked sailors. Next morning, energized by my interactions with people, I posted that my garb smelled of woodsmoke, black powder, and adventures.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhC8WzLLxVb0REQSBf70OVKzHYA5k3trCxpzWWm8aUJ9tmbaOKppmr5qvQyBsYQ2KGOLxe_zepc5Rg9bcHjSkycIV-lNtmD7C-eDb4OzBfA7LfCluOoz7gacmaPbqkmlWxfBWBDAgPz2u_X3u2PeKpGnlySh0D8azwxsxm_UFJ2A1pmmJaw5hCtZh4z=s1672" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1672" data-original-width="1254" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhC8WzLLxVb0REQSBf70OVKzHYA5k3trCxpzWWm8aUJ9tmbaOKppmr5qvQyBsYQ2KGOLxe_zepc5Rg9bcHjSkycIV-lNtmD7C-eDb4OzBfA7LfCluOoz7gacmaPbqkmlWxfBWBDAgPz2u_X3u2PeKpGnlySh0D8azwxsxm_UFJ2A1pmmJaw5hCtZh4z=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Preparing to visit last week ... what a difference!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi-oT2E0hvRfqwu6Liry-wsoRLwsIkcySjayAq5UJc_btZMjgxJ2naUEMzsc4xpgw17X0qkIkz61yiM5Ng5PRxDikHv52SpaH-JYaMg35HmZppjSDVqAnB08bherd08yss7WVxNctYP1nvOaQDsPTCMm0zbOvBqCzlP9tt76Uyzyf24nkYhMOvr41PY=s1672" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1672" data-original-width="1254" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi-oT2E0hvRfqwu6Liry-wsoRLwsIkcySjayAq5UJc_btZMjgxJ2naUEMzsc4xpgw17X0qkIkz61yiM5Ng5PRxDikHv52SpaH-JYaMg35HmZppjSDVqAnB08bherd08yss7WVxNctYP1nvOaQDsPTCMm0zbOvBqCzlP9tt76Uyzyf24nkYhMOvr41PY=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The weirdly empty courtyard. During the sieges the entire 1,500 townspeople stayed here for 1-2 months. Today, not a visitor in sight.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg6Z-VevxvI3cLYenvCe61iyBd2vfbkdKoQOelkZvvZGW2Y_puSdHz83VhF4y5xzrN7-OGQXMaix9vyT6iuykRkbIndLvXDoKzG4zBRx4GbMHulCMjJP2RKScs5foOW1OXLn2Kru3WU9N8oBuZmnWxYuN54DOp_zoM2lbfG70JYDzy3wSGZocodMCbi=s1672" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="1672" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg6Z-VevxvI3cLYenvCe61iyBd2vfbkdKoQOelkZvvZGW2Y_puSdHz83VhF4y5xzrN7-OGQXMaix9vyT6iuykRkbIndLvXDoKzG4zBRx4GbMHulCMjJP2RKScs5foOW1OXLn2Kru3WU9N8oBuZmnWxYuN54DOp_zoM2lbfG70JYDzy3wSGZocodMCbi=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The casemates were originally used as storerooms for food, tools, gunpowder.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhsjw_eQHeufoxPCY59X9DmgDpzHddfpLc-LL_gURPPZpHRQEhyxNc_tn5DKHDBkGOEvdn8DDehezSbQQRkR678eUCoxTzN7lB3isBX88lal_xWl5jPE84koJl92stUdLDO-Mx0ELkm5OmY-qzTnnp_AjEyoojiBV6L0AGI8SyZANHKxv4VKbYkDuXF=s1672" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1672" data-original-width="1254" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhsjw_eQHeufoxPCY59X9DmgDpzHddfpLc-LL_gURPPZpHRQEhyxNc_tn5DKHDBkGOEvdn8DDehezSbQQRkR678eUCoxTzN7lB3isBX88lal_xWl5jPE84koJl92stUdLDO-Mx0ELkm5OmY-qzTnnp_AjEyoojiBV6L0AGI8SyZANHKxv4VKbYkDuXF=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjuuudR1tcawXtN8iHN8IdNWZQetGvmCP396fGjPyudls6PrfDrHVc6UAVSumz94wZBgVDXTt9ZzW6Htd4Nv31pfkufKfGEq1vyIoVMSwFiE4wuoSdfaGzXXLjPi7zE9xA9JhDMR17hX-mQaSOvBBOzhHOcjl8e058SAwRXq8sV67mJYVNtrfaT2run=s1672" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1672" data-original-width="1254" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjuuudR1tcawXtN8iHN8IdNWZQetGvmCP396fGjPyudls6PrfDrHVc6UAVSumz94wZBgVDXTt9ZzW6Htd4Nv31pfkufKfGEq1vyIoVMSwFiE4wuoSdfaGzXXLjPi7zE9xA9JhDMR17hX-mQaSOvBBOzhHOcjl8e058SAwRXq8sV67mJYVNtrfaT2run=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_YAtgoUna0PfAF3aR1KSWGLDtROr6sfvn6wplBKLRz86xMe2aw7BuHnjpYkVZ-T3KBEM8N0FzGz_s_Ne7PO-edoOUgIscSLYBcxCBPlDsh4YY1SLlGvQAXcEfLMZPu5cWNCytPiIaFOk4GTcBSrQuodvs6HUmk1yyvOQNM8ihQYxoWpUFKdIyHnap=s1672" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="1672" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_YAtgoUna0PfAF3aR1KSWGLDtROr6sfvn6wplBKLRz86xMe2aw7BuHnjpYkVZ-T3KBEM8N0FzGz_s_Ne7PO-edoOUgIscSLYBcxCBPlDsh4YY1SLlGvQAXcEfLMZPu5cWNCytPiIaFOk4GTcBSrQuodvs6HUmk1yyvOQNM8ihQYxoWpUFKdIyHnap=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgD_aO0REhF0DoqbX3u4n9-KJl-K8WreDQ1lA0fMv7WkcvlegKiXHNVS3THAspgERX9l0RTIDufo6ns6na6-GGlRiX4MB2pKsB0AfwhVdzxyqPBsAf_VClunND0JRXbNo7MCcqurbqy44Vb_nBgS5A3i2R4_q4FQW4sEpHsGAO-JgFGPjQx9e1Sp8w2=s1672" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1672" data-original-width="1254" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgD_aO0REhF0DoqbX3u4n9-KJl-K8WreDQ1lA0fMv7WkcvlegKiXHNVS3THAspgERX9l0RTIDufo6ns6na6-GGlRiX4MB2pKsB0AfwhVdzxyqPBsAf_VClunND0JRXbNo7MCcqurbqy44Vb_nBgS5A3i2R4_q4FQW4sEpHsGAO-JgFGPjQx9e1Sp8w2=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwCv1VRnL_q7VBsTxR6gC-USWQb2XlPxd4jXDdi1FSf8aDLLgEMm3KBttTd0HoY4tS46Qu10e1RQSe2X7IsnMBdRcbKyxb8wbJqeuAZYW8Uji1HFLaQlXID-IJxpm9Ut_ZOSNlod_ZnLMMqDdStQEHMOlFBhnsWpZQCaLmA7KJTlUGpEWJnyjDsXLf=s1672" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="1672" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwCv1VRnL_q7VBsTxR6gC-USWQb2XlPxd4jXDdi1FSf8aDLLgEMm3KBttTd0HoY4tS46Qu10e1RQSe2X7IsnMBdRcbKyxb8wbJqeuAZYW8Uji1HFLaQlXID-IJxpm9Ut_ZOSNlod_ZnLMMqDdStQEHMOlFBhnsWpZQCaLmA7KJTlUGpEWJnyjDsXLf=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj5zDA1mKyvQvAHbzCNrmHXLJm9p7q_G5qnOD2oKq18FE9o-Kjn7dpwvfeg2PgIfaKDFMVMOuMGPPYz9MRs4dpYtds1dLRwrXEVrjAwnb-UGCKKTifr5ATBTcA1qCzsa7AgOclAHrfz2RYzzA6_VoPGRzia9iEOuN3mYHaSnDYBcKCvycK6Cool9CYF=s1672" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="1672" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj5zDA1mKyvQvAHbzCNrmHXLJm9p7q_G5qnOD2oKq18FE9o-Kjn7dpwvfeg2PgIfaKDFMVMOuMGPPYz9MRs4dpYtds1dLRwrXEVrjAwnb-UGCKKTifr5ATBTcA1qCzsa7AgOclAHrfz2RYzzA6_VoPGRzia9iEOuN3mYHaSnDYBcKCvycK6Cool9CYF=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then later during the British period the walls were expanded and these rooms were used as living quarters.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>After this visit, and the administrative work which had been the primary motivation for our trip complete, we spent an hour or so the last morning at the site of Fort Mose, 2 miles north of the Castillo. I delight in the rarely-told story of this place; the first free Black settlement in the US; the place where escaping enslaved people folloowed the Underground Railroad south instead of north from Georgia and South Carolina, to the then-international border between England's and Spain's colonies. In the US, we tend to think of ourselves as derived from the British – Boston Tea Party, 13 original colonies, 1776 and all that. We forget that New York was Dutch, Michigan and Louisiana were French, and Florida was Spanish. Unlike the Castillo, this fort is gone and its struggles remembered only in stories, the landscape given back to the birds and marshes. <div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEipP3xw56u7AK2xrnkKnG1p_LX0lkPdbP9Icrx-T8CIDWKCo8g7uznl2lJcfg3xaxMyePsBTeRFo8qa2Nx_LkcWzZIqJlW0SP7v5BM7fDvUfehpDAcynlywkdfEMvCynv1LSme9z_HxvFuBjcLkBcyb4dYOrrsfxcqviJX58kU1zRYHO_2Ssp__5qXN=s1672" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1672" data-original-width="1254" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEipP3xw56u7AK2xrnkKnG1p_LX0lkPdbP9Icrx-T8CIDWKCo8g7uznl2lJcfg3xaxMyePsBTeRFo8qa2Nx_LkcWzZIqJlW0SP7v5BM7fDvUfehpDAcynlywkdfEMvCynv1LSme9z_HxvFuBjcLkBcyb4dYOrrsfxcqviJX58kU1zRYHO_2Ssp__5qXN=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The long boardwalk to the site, dubbed "Walkway to Freedom."</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjynY3DzJG-bAYMmh70Ml4uY0a4WcaMRSBvNF25EKtXH4duPdzhxDibfUTygOEgg8WbRh9ZdUYHfUtfuqX7-_6Oj6grwZDchlYAOaDA022P2WPRLyDkjxLS11AciX7CJf2GpRVhwr8u73tdDHZcMLLBbskBe9BpvG8DmCSqYCKb1mwN6iy0-x12MInq=s1672" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="1672" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjynY3DzJG-bAYMmh70Ml4uY0a4WcaMRSBvNF25EKtXH4duPdzhxDibfUTygOEgg8WbRh9ZdUYHfUtfuqX7-_6Oj6grwZDchlYAOaDA022P2WPRLyDkjxLS11AciX7CJf2GpRVhwr8u73tdDHZcMLLBbskBe9BpvG8DmCSqYCKb1mwN6iy0-x12MInq=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It looks so peaceful, but it's anything but quiet, filled with the squawks, chirps, and quacks of the birds making their living fishing in the marsh.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-2962175319957807702022-01-13T19:13:00.000+00:002022-01-13T19:13:03.738+00:00An Accident of Time and Place (How We Saw the Town)<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhE1BPXzna_YrrDufMwHco0IIGaPrGZA5NrfFCFWIXwNoQ5JwepbUjH002yrUyDWm_lK_muJoO3vYBinNKgP1gzE1v5_NQ9pFwL7MVeeyzyyiYKE2U6asQhr6EbCvLFuD5RRN2nm5S9nOTK464lR-8fkEZJPt-K_96_SUIMADP1rgEkAxJDaaKewYHe=s1672" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1672" data-original-width="1254" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhE1BPXzna_YrrDufMwHco0IIGaPrGZA5NrfFCFWIXwNoQ5JwepbUjH002yrUyDWm_lK_muJoO3vYBinNKgP1gzE1v5_NQ9pFwL7MVeeyzyyiYKE2U6asQhr6EbCvLFuD5RRN2nm5S9nOTK464lR-8fkEZJPt-K_96_SUIMADP1rgEkAxJDaaKewYHe=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seen through a car window, the lights are ... underwhelming</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>We continued our short visit to St Augustine that night. We drove around town looking at the famous 3 million white holiday lights, and I felt nothing. I was an observer of the city, but I wasn't “of” the city any more. I felt on the outside, looking in. Maybe it was my heart, protecting itself again. Or maybe it was the difference between being in a car, and walking. </p><p><br /></p><p>I was texting about this with a friend the next evening, and he agreed. If we hadn't docked in the municipal marina, in the middle of the action, and had to walk everywhere, we'd never have seen and appreciated the city's fine details. We'd never have spent long enough to learn the history in more than the broadest-brush overview. We wouldn't have had the chance to play pirate on the Black Raven, or gotten to volunteer at the Castillo or on El Galeon. We'd probably never have fallen in love with the city. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjOpAa5WyMhrTQJoVPhfrwKW8frR-AHgjkEzxFXn4ejofbj-2wW0jaGT3JHdsUKB70Ooz-TyRenGJ1Thln2QUfapwd-qHvu5z09hRtXIhcb49ylj9RDPfhCjycqaZCdDczO0lErA3q9SSfdQN2eFMx_5BlWJuoL0M_7V-WSqjsufb53-qTW1Xzgsnqo=s960" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjOpAa5WyMhrTQJoVPhfrwKW8frR-AHgjkEzxFXn4ejofbj-2wW0jaGT3JHdsUKB70Ooz-TyRenGJ1Thln2QUfapwd-qHvu5z09hRtXIhcb49ylj9RDPfhCjycqaZCdDczO0lErA3q9SSfdQN2eFMx_5BlWJuoL0M_7V-WSqjsufb53-qTW1Xzgsnqo=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the city, of the city; strolling the plaza during Nights of Lights in the Before Times</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>This was probably the most profound lesson I learned from 4 years of touring with the Spanish tall ships and 8 years on our own boat. Every port we visited, we saw the city the way it had originally evolved, growing outward from the waterfront. And we'd learned about it human-scaled, walking scale. These narrow cobbled streets were laid out long before cars were even a dream. Our frontier was maritime long before Hollywood glorified the “wild West.” And coming into town by car, coming in from US-1 and the brightly lit strip malls; historic downtown seemed just a dusty crowded inconvenience, with no real story to tell. (Also, coming into town as a crew member on a dramatic tall ship, I was a rock star. A far different reception than I would have gotten as “random retired lady driving a minivan!”) </p><p><br /></p><p>We think so much depends on big decisions (“What state shall we move to? Colorado? Florida? Maryland?”) But sometimes it's the tiniest microclimate -- downtown marina, walkable but parking is a major hassle? Or one that's a little further away but car-friendly? -- that has the biggest impact on the way we perceive the place. </p><p><br /></p><p>[FWIW, this may also explain why we haven't felt at home in Annapolis yet either. Our marina is located in suburbia: not rural enough to enjoy the peace and quiet of nature while living aboard, yet simultaneously not central enough to really participate in the downtown vibrancy and experience (Covid notwithstanding). Hopefully things will settle to the point where we can get more involved in the future.]</p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-29980852159548561972022-01-10T17:35:00.002+00:002022-01-11T18:58:21.380+00:00Stones<p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiRVq_HdHQP3K_3mQi64_kmRRpDC5d-0p_Ws-Bw-ZviZFCViBIkCDl8Uy_KHzqKJ5czX0kSjnP8iu_sHrl_GEChx-i2W7MILyf886AYXqcgwxjvC6Al9NtAsE3dslm4FCD4u3HwzqWs5UeKioyNy6qM14lD878Q4t8RI5I4H3GAQq9hC-FTJuqMroeC=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiRVq_HdHQP3K_3mQi64_kmRRpDC5d-0p_Ws-Bw-ZviZFCViBIkCDl8Uy_KHzqKJ5czX0kSjnP8iu_sHrl_GEChx-i2W7MILyf886AYXqcgwxjvC6Al9NtAsE3dslm4FCD4u3HwzqWs5UeKioyNy6qM14lD878Q4t8RI5I4H3GAQq9hC-FTJuqMroeC=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A pile of rocks, or stones with souls? This is part of the western wall of the gun deck. An accident of geology led to the almost magical resilience of the coquina walls to cannon fire, which in turn is why the Castillo never fell in battle, but only changed hands by treaty. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjKYEj40JqEW0KgI5FQqCINqGVyzhF66_MT6zfmoJGjcYHs3P80-E6XSr2-vfAFKWAv-4ryBnLbu57pGXF1Z49COhQS1s-kBeDrL2JMduu19QLraP7stShKYI3rAQyNkfoile7JXa7e-iSwMFRxenBAPnOdrsC0eLMt6KLpuIQCsEMI7hUFEcdPEIF2=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjKYEj40JqEW0KgI5FQqCINqGVyzhF66_MT6zfmoJGjcYHs3P80-E6XSr2-vfAFKWAv-4ryBnLbu57pGXF1Z49COhQS1s-kBeDrL2JMduu19QLraP7stShKYI3rAQyNkfoile7JXa7e-iSwMFRxenBAPnOdrsC0eLMt6KLpuIQCsEMI7hUFEcdPEIF2=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gun deck and sentry tower January 2022 ... almost empty of visitors</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbG-IU_4tJTopqUV0Xu6PZCR4MOd20whL06wHsKzMht7YJc_W_GTGhPQ2TQO8xlNU_drKK2cZNurNZ3iRrfB8UtS3f5UtAsYxHhqfSWukVi6d0rmfRH8xoZ5sDx5iLy0icFu-Cx_AVkRGE5pjNYlaVFgotypUtthGlPdnnRqK1PamJjXW6kLJnXW0M=s1280" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbG-IU_4tJTopqUV0Xu6PZCR4MOd20whL06wHsKzMht7YJc_W_GTGhPQ2TQO8xlNU_drKK2cZNurNZ3iRrfB8UtS3f5UtAsYxHhqfSWukVi6d0rmfRH8xoZ5sDx5iLy0icFu-Cx_AVkRGE5pjNYlaVFgotypUtthGlPdnnRqK1PamJjXW6kLJnXW0M=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Us, dressed as soldados in almost the same spot eight years previous. The Nao Victoria is behind my right shoulder on its way to a visit of St Augustine. Little did we know how much that ship and the others from the Foundation would shape our lives!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>We made a quick trip back to St Augustine to renew our driver's licenses. There's probably an easily-explained reason this couldn't be done online (in the middle of an ongoing pandemic (!) ), but the person who can do the explaining … isn't me. An-y-way, we packed our bags, scheduled as many get-togethers with our local friends as we could orchestrate on the calendar, and we were off.</p><p><br /></p><p>As it turned out, we bolted out of Annapolis the day before we had planned to, due to forecast bad weather, and good thing too – there was a massive, massive traffic disaster that would have had us stuck in sub-freezing weather on an ice-covered I-95 for more than 24 hours if we had left on our original schedule. Hey, an extra day in St Aug? I'm not complaining!</p><p><br /></p><p>Actually I wasn't quite sure what emotions to expect, going back. It about tore my heart out to leave St Augustine for Annapolis a little over a year ago and ever since, I've been splitting my loyalty between the two cities. I claimed that I've got “one foot on the boat and one foot on the dock”. As you can imagine, that's a pretty precarious place to be, much wiser to make a commitment to one or the other, because with one foot on each, a minor shift and you're off balance and fallen into the water between the two. Which about describes my mental state, this past year.</p><p><br /></p><p>With an extra half day unscheduled, and the weather warm and dry, we headed immediately to our favorite bit of history in town, the Castillo. From our very first visit I had been drawn to this place and its story. I had spent so many hours dressed as a soldado (Spanish soldier), standing on the gun deck gazing out to sea exactly as my predecessors would have done 300 years earlier, dressed in the very same uniform. The difference of course is that my duty was far less stressful – they would have been fearing for their lives and looking for enemy ships while my biggest fear was being asked a question by a tourist that I couldn't answer!</p><p><br /></p><p>“There are people with hearts of stone; there are stones with hearts like people.” This quote was the hook to a popular Israeli song (protest song?) from the 1960s, more lyrical in the original than my translation. It was written about the remaining wall of the temple in Jerusalem, but stones with hearts or souls seems to me to apply to other special places as well. I've always thought the Castillo had a unique aura and attributed it to the fact that the place had never fallen in battle but had safely housed the city's residents through two long English sieges. I'd felt the reassuring “my walls will keep you safe” vibe the very first time I'd visited, and every other time since, through public crowds and special events and night events and private after hours tours that were closed to the public just staff and volunteers only. Now with attendance still limited by pandemic restrictions, no school kids or cannon firings and a smaller number of visitors, I thought I'd feel that again. </p><p><br /></p><p>Instead, a different quote came to mind. I was reminded of the heroine of a fantasy/sci-fi story I had read as a kid. She'd been given a pair of magic spectacles, and when she'd put them on she was able to walk through the wall of the place in which she'd been imprisoned and escape. Next time she got into a jam, she tried the glasses again, but this time got no help. Maybe they were meant to help just that once, she mused. “But now, the magic has gone out of them, and they are simply glass.” </p><p><br /></p><p>The park staff had done a commendable job of setting up vignettes in the different casemates to tell the story of the fort through time in the absence of costumed living history reenactors, but some of the magic had gone. The walls were … just rocks, silent. Though sometimes I wonder whether anything had changed at all, really, and my lack of feeling anything was just my heart's way of building protective walls around itself, to prevent being torn again.</p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-74001298837503309172021-12-14T20:31:00.002+00:002022-01-20T14:50:47.403+00:00Science! Just Like Magic ... Except It's Real<p> </p><p>Classic science fiction author Arthur C. Clarke is famously recorded as saying, "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." And there's no other way to describe the gloriously elegant treatment that Dan received last Thursday (Dec 9) to resolve his hand tremours. </p><p>See, we describe the tremour as a very very good "bad thing." Because 15 years ago when he had brain cancer he wasn't expected to live long enough for these to develop. So we're delighted to have encountered this.</p><p>The conventional approach involves a wire electrode implanted in the brain and a battery under the skin in the chest (think like a pacemaker), but his neurologist emphatically did not want any surgery that could be avoided. <a href="https://www.umms.org/ummc/health-services/neurology/services/parkinsons-disease/patient-story/essential-tremor" target="_blank">Focused Ultrasound</a> is a new technology where hundreds of energy beams converge on a particular spot deep in the brain. Each beam alone is too weak to cause any damage, but where they intersect there is enough power to sear the spot causing the trouble. Non invasive, effective, and quick healing time. The linked article explains it pretty well; and here's a photo tour of Dan's experiences. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqTE7FoEHn4xAuz9rjGFMSVjbZAmBXS6mONrYdDMeMYGxuZ6w3jFvYBJ87QT6NL_r-VylVVzaBSgfi4yGDtqxx9ERDQyxZKBJB-e7mVHPPqBYGt86oUhD1awk38ZI63QuDMmmmBCxKTc5uQuKWsIY0Wu0Sc5WnfepIkygKJfP2QLpUehW8HxFJk0ma=s960" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqTE7FoEHn4xAuz9rjGFMSVjbZAmBXS6mONrYdDMeMYGxuZ6w3jFvYBJ87QT6NL_r-VylVVzaBSgfi4yGDtqxx9ERDQyxZKBJB-e7mVHPPqBYGt86oUhD1awk38ZI63QuDMmmmBCxKTc5uQuKWsIY0Wu0Sc5WnfepIkygKJfP2QLpUehW8HxFJk0ma=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We stayed the night before in a gloriously elegant old hotel in Baltimore, right near the hospital. Here's his last night of having hair (more on that later).</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0F-YYXzxUIlzhVCSDsQae8Pva0HebMXzImrql0Adw6T6k-yfZyhko88Z5vm3usyCgPm1K1QVgnJeZa7hKEZaQGQKiVnsKE0hO_LntSDpxDa1Vp85k9Hvj7pCFZcDyHHfco5OVeBmd9N4wAUmxMyrKBa2Un4-aAMeyfqUPfFa3zspO70gHwGE4UbDg=s960" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0F-YYXzxUIlzhVCSDsQae8Pva0HebMXzImrql0Adw6T6k-yfZyhko88Z5vm3usyCgPm1K1QVgnJeZa7hKEZaQGQKiVnsKE0hO_LntSDpxDa1Vp85k9Hvj7pCFZcDyHHfco5OVeBmd9N4wAUmxMyrKBa2Un4-aAMeyfqUPfFa3zspO70gHwGE4UbDg=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hotel is the repurposed headquarters offices of the B and O Railroad. Obviously built to impress! </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi4_v-5JznQYiT0rsow49Ad24JWSjpJf-FPyzSMQ5xvdlsSEYo2bgDkkF7UrJl5oYlhYTgwNiIpZXhgBG_-pAwbDKR8hke7ARWtGXQFRPibmxiqSvQtfLC9ECMhOij-7ZuvLeUdpn6EWHlVyLyqjBPQHM8HI5xSk1hpC688oWyt1q6BFgn96lMZA4j3=s960" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi4_v-5JznQYiT0rsow49Ad24JWSjpJf-FPyzSMQ5xvdlsSEYo2bgDkkF7UrJl5oYlhYTgwNiIpZXhgBG_-pAwbDKR8hke7ARWtGXQFRPibmxiqSvQtfLC9ECMhOij-7ZuvLeUdpn6EWHlVyLyqjBPQHM8HI5xSk1hpC688oWyt1q6BFgn96lMZA4j3=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Detail of a column at the hotel.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigwb_-m4BmUt2LbIbiIzfbNsYnL8H_lZLz4W4vH0dI63NROMe8j2qeBV950CjgZfj9IW4zgDgLZfjbj7ZhjcAAp5HhAw1bc2E0gWwBr216pVOY_5kbcn67yHl4fH2zwrZ5VD3u9imUC6P_A5hgMviNN3PTZPA0KKZts8ds9TEkNRdx6AaVazSBreWN=s600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="450" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigwb_-m4BmUt2LbIbiIzfbNsYnL8H_lZLz4W4vH0dI63NROMe8j2qeBV950CjgZfj9IW4zgDgLZfjbj7ZhjcAAp5HhAw1bc2E0gWwBr216pVOY_5kbcn67yHl4fH2zwrZ5VD3u9imUC6P_A5hgMviNN3PTZPA0KKZts8ds9TEkNRdx6AaVazSBreWN=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The day of the treatment started out with ... a haircut. Even a single hair could deflect one of the many energy beams that had to converge on that particular spot in the brain, so off it all came. Nurse Chris (who was excellent, competent, humorous, and calm) claimed that now they were twins. And this was an interesting, and very human moment: I had said I wasn't going to share any pictures of Dan being vulnerable. Chris disagreed -- "Sometimes these moments are also part of life. Don't pretend it's always only good." </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhyRKJv--0bp7Btvtjc6oQrK2S5RGM_QwKVPANC4bPCG6ZH5mGfiE-wqm5J7XaJmag_cqmS2GhJlZ4qrWzSi7Cu3PZ2dNUNYf7ywOlI4YOe5ct1zf_CxVs2xBsr3Ild1hTTbi8puYapJuWJrVhuL7TyOMEKbI0KPWOH9wAfCwHIcTeJ10bU7koScQPN=s600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhyRKJv--0bp7Btvtjc6oQrK2S5RGM_QwKVPANC4bPCG6ZH5mGfiE-wqm5J7XaJmag_cqmS2GhJlZ4qrWzSi7Cu3PZ2dNUNYf7ywOlI4YOe5ct1zf_CxVs2xBsr3Ild1hTTbi8puYapJuWJrVhuL7TyOMEKbI0KPWOH9wAfCwHIcTeJ10bU7koScQPN=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The renowned Dr. Eisenberg explains the frame that will hold Dan's head in place during the treatment. Dan’s case was extra complicated because they had to work around the previous brain cancer scars. Drs. Eisenberg and Fishman, mentioned in the article, were on his care team and said his case was a unique and enjoyable technical challenge because they could only use 800 or so of the 1000 beams due to that scarring. The amazing thing is that unlike the 50-60% reduction in tremour expected Dan is a whopping 80%! Overachiever! </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigjqsQtU5EJWd0U03pxtPccY3mkLzJI8alx3V7XomxvtbRCKytHXbkp9MpK91_JnH_ak4vxscVq0f50GTovP3mkUjeM-SIXYmuMe0_wwbf4_XH5-CvguUUH_YlDt2ueayY0sbXjo-dDMnD-Q2JQ82lfhJGjyXicXIwIZgvSwzhXgvLdUW4ELmBD9ua=s1024" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigjqsQtU5EJWd0U03pxtPccY3mkLzJI8alx3V7XomxvtbRCKytHXbkp9MpK91_JnH_ak4vxscVq0f50GTovP3mkUjeM-SIXYmuMe0_wwbf4_XH5-CvguUUH_YlDt2ueayY0sbXjo-dDMnD-Q2JQ82lfhJGjyXicXIwIZgvSwzhXgvLdUW4ELmBD9ua=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One measure of tremour is the ability (or lack thereof!) to trace a pen along a spiral maze without hitting the walls. Here's the "before."</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbL-A8Zx3JQTTb7BZFGZYgC0XIh85FGxHHnDOsKEs1sgW9DstsDVx0jABN6TUuJRWBLwNxcEeoj3cj4bVzUnVfEIs6RUS75HNh-ok6gOloXkWOkRmqC5duC-poj4cKUltc59XjHKg1ZFkw3eO-nvr5Seff2jMzkP7CutHW4nkLtVImQsX5nYo9P6d3=s1024" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbL-A8Zx3JQTTb7BZFGZYgC0XIh85FGxHHnDOsKEs1sgW9DstsDVx0jABN6TUuJRWBLwNxcEeoj3cj4bVzUnVfEIs6RUS75HNh-ok6gOloXkWOkRmqC5duC-poj4cKUltc59XjHKg1ZFkw3eO-nvr5Seff2jMzkP7CutHW4nkLtVImQsX5nYo9P6d3=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "after" is much improved; and he continued to improve after this!<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUR-vuE6fkbhYwoxZ40y4lYXzY1EgdThytHkE3XfEsBpeiEXZWcXXknPhsaa2ophU1KflOwD_z0TQAWTWBQ32EYGD-oVkP6QG_n19w77z8U9QHum_4Au_a6pdesku6Y4c6hEGqnr8FfPGkGUCKT46zbERt0vvNjBAR-glokCXxkAwUjNOqHru-zNxr=s600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="450" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUR-vuE6fkbhYwoxZ40y4lYXzY1EgdThytHkE3XfEsBpeiEXZWcXXknPhsaa2ophU1KflOwD_z0TQAWTWBQ32EYGD-oVkP6QG_n19w77z8U9QHum_4Au_a6pdesku6Y4c6hEGqnr8FfPGkGUCKT46zbERt0vvNjBAR-glokCXxkAwUjNOqHru-zNxr=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With nurse Pamela's explicit permission, he was allowed a small glass of wine the next evening. Triumphantly, he was able to hold out his glass at arm's length for a toast. This is something he hadn't been able to do for years for fear of spilling.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgJkDQ27PVXv8BAUussWH8fHSR0nAqzvP4FWdxWlBBnb147eXUtk3I6n233ck0zb4lOrymaluOTYVGNJUC4LQVfRQIatqfuOa6z56iCz7ANFhxWQC8h1n8hfPm_kKpE4xBsEeHSaj4MJH2n0yuMJMXgaXdCzRohyysXumVbW104VQk70h6a2XJfteGf=s600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgJkDQ27PVXv8BAUussWH8fHSR0nAqzvP4FWdxWlBBnb147eXUtk3I6n233ck0zb4lOrymaluOTYVGNJUC4LQVfRQIatqfuOa6z56iCz7ANFhxWQC8h1n8hfPm_kKpE4xBsEeHSaj4MJH2n0yuMJMXgaXdCzRohyysXumVbW104VQk70h6a2XJfteGf=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet friend Penny knitted this gorgeous hat for him when she learned they had had to shave his head in December. He said it warmed him twice - once from the thick soft wool, and again for the kind thoughts. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFtLiMXSEhi1q3TXI7zekx_lDdTBXjZ1Di1LMCdJ2OHX1oMEDXVmzrCxDOasgheEqNNsc4CBzg1xq1ciZqO0LUjl5etI-1pLwfxGXAxAO7tik1hmuhS4XgQKlXFFS-mYbaspUKptogmIS10RnYDtqfLVuGVvXdo4oa9v6rK1tdlJYypjR44dwM3pxs=s1672" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="1672" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFtLiMXSEhi1q3TXI7zekx_lDdTBXjZ1Di1LMCdJ2OHX1oMEDXVmzrCxDOasgheEqNNsc4CBzg1xq1ciZqO0LUjl5etI-1pLwfxGXAxAO7tik1hmuhS4XgQKlXFFS-mYbaspUKptogmIS10RnYDtqfLVuGVvXdo4oa9v6rK1tdlJYypjR44dwM3pxs=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And the ultimate proof -- able to hold a full coffee mug at arm's length without sloshing.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-77435950158728772152021-08-20T19:33:00.005+01:002022-07-17T19:38:33.634+01:00The Pandemic Pantry Part 2 -- the Actual Plan<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi61mgXOcJUTngGK-fxEd8PsxWjGUc0D-k1siqMkDyzLMorJOZJII4Ptylq-DDtvtIpuxDCcXSWLv6XSHX7-8rbxGNkFwQGH_cmi2gG9hgjxNEbWT1Zv9IU19G82ly4dTSi4tHHIfIB1HI/s320/pandemic+pantry+logo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="320" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi61mgXOcJUTngGK-fxEd8PsxWjGUc0D-k1siqMkDyzLMorJOZJII4Ptylq-DDtvtIpuxDCcXSWLv6XSHX7-8rbxGNkFwQGH_cmi2gG9hgjxNEbWT1Zv9IU19G82ly4dTSi4tHHIfIB1HI/s0/pandemic+pantry+logo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>In the restaurant industry they call it "PAR level" -- Periodic Automatic Replenishment (or "Replacement" or "Resupply" depending on who is writing the acronym). It's a pretty structured method of making sure you have enough food on hand to prepare the meals until your next reorder time, without going seriously under (missed sales and unhappy customers) or over (food spoilage and storage issues). I'm quite committed to the concept, having developed an informal version years ago when we had little money and less time, and built a computerized grocery list organized by the aisles in our grocery store with the number of boxes/cans to buy of each item, the Saturday after payday. Little did I know I was reinventing the wheel.</p><p>In suburbia, if you planned wrong and ran out of an ingredient, it's inconvenient. You might have to run out to the store unexpectedly, or pay more for it. Or you might have to change your planned meal to something else. When we were cruising, we bought what was available on the little islands, and the list was more like a general guideline or suggestion than an inventory. Exploring new food possibilities was part of the adventure, after all. But at sea, whether on our own little Cinderella or the mighty El Galeon, if you're out of food it's way more than just inconvenient -- there's no popping round to the grocery store when you're in the middle of the Atlantic! So keeping the storeroom ("gambuza" in Spanish) properly supplied was a much more rigid process. </p><p>While we were in lockdown it was like trying to apply every aspect of pantry management, all at once. Like being at sea, our visits to the grocery store were very infrequent and limited. Like visiting small islands, not everything was in stock at all times, so we had to buy it when we found it, or improvise. We were trying to save money, and we wanted to cook extra-healthy to keep our immune systems up. Put it all together and it was ... a lot. </p><p>But wait, wait, there's more! I had learned on the Galeon how distracting it is to have that little background buzz of "what shall we make for dinner" popping up every day around mid-afternoon -- until it was no longer there. When I was crew, dinner was whatever the cook decided, and when I was assistant chef, that was part of my actual job, not something I did in addition to my job. Well, during lockdown I just didn't have the mental bandwidth for complex meal planning. So I built a basic inventory list of about 40 core ingredients. (Drinks, snacks, spices, plus some pantry staples like oil and salt and flour, weren't included in the 40.) Meal planning became simply deciding 2 nights per week would be fish-based meals, 2 nights egg-cheese-dairy, 2 nights plant-based. We found 5 or more recipes for each category that could be made with our basic 40, and put our kitchen on autopilot for a while. Now, if you're good at math you noticed that I only accounted for 6 days. One day a week was "wildcard." Sometimes wildcard would be experimenting with something new, sometimes it would be takeout, sometimes it would be instant ramen noodles, sometimes it would be inspired by whatever looked good at the farmer's market. Just enough to keep it interesting, but not complicated. </p><p>At the end of lockdown we had saved an impressive amount of money by not eating or drinking out, lost weight, and stayed sane and healthy. I'm posting the "Basic 40"list (feel free to copy but make it your own; remember, it's a suggestion, not a prescription!) and the titles of some of the meals that can be made. It's not a shopping list with quantities, instead it's what you want to have going into the week so you can make whatever meal you choose pretty spontaneously and know that everything you need is on hand. You take inventory before going to the grocery store, and just buy enough to bring the level of food in the pantry up to PAR. There's some seasonality; we use butternut squash in fall and winter and swap that out for cucumber in summertime; use fresh tomatoes and corn in summer instead of canned, granola instead of oatmeal, and use fresh spinach instead of frozen when it's available; it's pretty flexible. Still working on the actual recipes in fits and starts. Some are in metric and some are in English; some need to be scaled down from a quantity that will feed a crew of 25. Someday it will be a book, for now, it's just fun. </p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;"><b>“BASIC 40 PANTRY LIST” <br /></b><b>(PAR for all = 1, except as noted; easily feeds two of us for a week no matter what we decide to eat)</b></div><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;">CAN AND JAR<br />garbanzo beans (2)<br />cannelini beans (2)<br />mandarin oranges (2)<br />chopped tomatoes (2)<br />salmon <br />tuna (2)<br />black olives (2)<br />green olives <br />roasted red pepper <br />green chilis<br />mushroom pieces<br />corn</div><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;">DRY & BULK<br />lentils<br />rice <br />small pasta (corkscrews, macaroni)<br />bulghur<br />couscous or quinoa<br />spaghetti <br />bread crumbs<br />coffee<br />protein powder<br />peanuts<br />triscuits<br />flour (2 c)<br />instant potato flakes<br />corn starch</div><div style="text-align: left;">oatmeal</div><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;">FROZEN<br />green beans<br />cut butternut squash<br />spinach <br />cod (2 pcs)<br />salmon (2 pcs)</div><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;">FRIDGE<br />eggs (12)<br />block cheddar<br />parmesan<br />feta<br />tofu or chik'n (plant-based chicken substitute)<br />butter (2 sticks)<br />sliced almonds<br />yogurt (2)</div><div style="text-align: left;">tortillas</div><div style="text-align: left;">cream or milk (or full-fat powdered milk) </div><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;">PRODUCE<br />onion (2)<br />purple onion<br />garlic<br />bell pepper (2)<br />potato (1 lb)<br />lemons <br />bananas (8)</div><div style="text-align: left;">carrots</div><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;">DRINKS<br />V-8 (4)<br />ginger lime ice (4)<br />BlackWing beer (4)<br />rum<br />red wine (3)<br />cherry juice or concentrate</div><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;">CONDIMENTS, OILS, AND FLAVOURINGS<br />no dead birds boullion concentrate<br />coconut milk powder (3) or can<br />olive oil <br />canola oil <br />tamari<br />sherry vinegar<br />white vinegar<br />lemon juice<br />tomato paste tube<br />hot sauce<br />mustard</div><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;">SPICES<br />parsley<br />basil<br />oregano<br />mint<br />dill<br />paprika<br />cumin<br />curry blend <br />herbes de provence<br />chili <br />fish blackening<br />salt<br />peppercorns<br />cinnamon<br />cayenne<br />saffron</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div><b>SAMPLE RECIPES USING THE "BASIC 40"</b></div><div><br /></div><div>BREAKFAST: </div><div>smoothie with yogurt, banana, cherry juice, and protein powder</div><div>oatmeal (winter) or granola with yogurt (summer)</div><div><br /></div><div>LUNCH:</div><div>generally leftovers rolled in a tortilla, or a room-temperature salad (the "mixed" salads below are great for lunch) or tuna or egg salad, or cheese quesadilla; or veggies and couscous </div><div><br /></div><div>MAIN MEALS:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>EGG-BASED:</div><div>Shakshuka</div><div>Basque scrambled eggs (or other egg-and-veggie skillet scramble)</div><div>Cheese or veggie omelet with green beans and sliced almonds</div><div>Crustless quiche (spinach and mushroom; tomato and peppers; whatever inspires)</div><div>Spanish tortilla </div><div>Butternut squash mac-and-cheese</div><div><br /></div><div>FISH-BASED</div><div>Fish cakes</div><div>Pasta with olives, tomato, onion and tuna</div><div>Blackened salmon with wilted spinach salad</div><div>Potaje bacalao (Spanish cod stew with potatoes and chickpeas)</div><div>Moqueca (Brazilian cod stew in a coconut milk sauce)</div><div>Lemony lentil and salmon salad*</div><div><br /></div><div>VEGAN (some have a little crumble of cheese)</div><div>Bean soup, stew, or chili</div><div>African squash/peanut stew</div><div>Curry night -- chana masala or trini aloo, and saag paneer and basmati rice </div><div>Stir fry with tofu and vegetables</div><div>Baked tofu Veracruzana or Caribbean jerk tofu</div><div>Chik'n and rice with vegetables</div><div>Bean and rice variations – Peruvian tacu-tacu, Mujeddrah (middle Eastern lentils, onions, and rice), red beans and rice, etc </div><div>Spinach-feta-garbanzo pasta salad</div><div>Bean, mushroom, or lentil burgers</div><div><br /></div><div>MIXED (hard-boiled eggs + tuna)</div><div>Papas alinas (marinated potato salad) with gazpacho*</div><div>Salade Nicoise</div><div>Traditional Spanish salad</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>WILDCARD</div><div>pizza, dinner out, happy hour munchies with friends, ramen noodles, something from a can, the eggplant looked good at the farmers market so make pistou, etc. Tapas or Greek night – dolmas, olives, nuts, tzatziki*, spiced chickpeas, felafel, hummus. Breakfast burritos.</div><div><br /></div><div>* Gazpacho, tzatziki, and lemony lentil salad also need cucumber; which is not on the basic 40 list. A couple of soups, and the Spanish salad, also need a carrot; not on the basic 40 list. My favourite blend for stir fry includes red bell pepper, mushrooms, and tofu or chik'n (plant-based chicken) and also broccoli and zucchini (not on the basic 40 list)</div><div><br /></div></div>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-86197527936885344102021-08-16T18:41:00.000+01:002021-08-16T18:41:24.373+01:00When the Room is Complete Chaos (a step-by-step guide)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhYQx1V9rTXjpZG5SGw2kKuH-ZrQdaLsSxWt0avK29z6SivKe1tReL4oqe-Xidd17SonS8mrqjL7k-NO42Jq0jfTPb9TM7ikjZPLzp3CkurWUqueDTNJASMRoggVW6JxceX2Arz-IxXo/s1300/122475430-very-messy-cluttered-teenage-boy-s-bedroom-with-piles-of-clothes-electronics-music-and-sports-equipm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="867" data-original-width="1300" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhYQx1V9rTXjpZG5SGw2kKuH-ZrQdaLsSxWt0avK29z6SivKe1tReL4oqe-Xidd17SonS8mrqjL7k-NO42Jq0jfTPb9TM7ikjZPLzp3CkurWUqueDTNJASMRoggVW6JxceX2Arz-IxXo/s320/122475430-very-messy-cluttered-teenage-boy-s-bedroom-with-piles-of-clothes-electronics-music-and-sports-equipm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When the room looks like this ... </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzRiKMirj4BFnvlzVIgL3C5ZNCVFVU6OzBMCaV63tC_hyphenhyphenvS4mdFvxB4jFqk_6pTbJWkbG3H0jVDYxaJOBZIQvzvVmPB_nwYmtrYJE11VjchmGY_b_yv-3AVGxxm_0j9Ic581-_RFGWE4/s640/tote+bag.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzRiKMirj4BFnvlzVIgL3C5ZNCVFVU6OzBMCaV63tC_hyphenhyphenvS4mdFvxB4jFqk_6pTbJWkbG3H0jVDYxaJOBZIQvzvVmPB_nwYmtrYJE11VjchmGY_b_yv-3AVGxxm_0j9Ic581-_RFGWE4/s320/tote+bag.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">... this is your tool kit!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Not directly boat-related, but the same approach that moved us from 3,000 square feet on land to a 33-foot sailboat I've found are helpful in other aspects of life. A couple of my land-based friends have been inundated/devastated/overwhelmed by a chaotic disaster of a room, and asked for help. </p><p> Not sure how to start? Here’s one approach designed to break down the "overwhelm." When you get right down to it, there are only 5 categories of things in a chaotic mess like the room above -- trash, dishes, laundry, things that belong somewhere else, things that have no home. </p><p>So, pick up a big tote bag and a trash bag, and make 5 passes through the room. Each pass will require a bit more brain power, but by the time you get to the tougher ones your "decluttering" mental muscles will have been thoroughly flexed and ready for the challenge. </p><p>The first step is the simplest. For #1, trash, just walk through the room picking up trash and putting it in the bag. Don't worry about anything else. No tough decisionmaking required. When you've gotten all the trash, put it out in the bin (or wherever trash goes where you are). </p><p>Then, do #2, dishes. Walk through the room a second time. This time, pick up every dish or cup, bring it to the sink or dishwasher. Leave it there for now, you'll get back to it in a bit. We don't want to slow your momentum. </p><p>Pass #3 is laundry. Go through the room a third time. Pick up the laundry, put it in the laundry bag/basket. Bring it to the washing machine if you have one in your house, or put it in the hall closet on it's way to the laundromat. The room by now is getting a bit better, yes? </p><p>Time for #4, items that are out of place. Get your tote bag, walk through the room picking up the out of place items. Put them in the tote. Now, walk around the house emptying the tote and putting things in their proper places. </p><p>Go back to the room for the last, and hardest, pass, #5, homeless things. Have you noticed that the first 3 steps were no-brainers? Then #4 needed a bit more thought? For this last step, we're going to seriously level up the decisionmaking. Take all the things that have no designated home, and put them in the tote. With them out of the way, the room should look somewhat orderly now. Congratulations! Pour yourself a cup of tea (or a glass of wine, we won't judge.) Now walk around the room with the tote bag full of homeless items in one hand and your cup in the other, define homes for the things you want to keep (whether in this room or elsewhere in the house), and put the rest by the door to donate at the next opportunity.</p><p>Congrats! You're done!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJm0lxeEETM9c9FBtBgzzINbwtbEFgov7UDKvGnW8isdszjH3jjo-_aQ8c0Ypw3dI9dqa-LZkwmyEs1siXl-DoK5YrYp1zAW48bhWiVG8eB0lx-gqlax0oysichDy7nF_hSv2aoKDXduM/s768/santorini_sunset_wine_tour-8-768x574.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="574" data-original-width="768" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJm0lxeEETM9c9FBtBgzzINbwtbEFgov7UDKvGnW8isdszjH3jjo-_aQ8c0Ypw3dI9dqa-LZkwmyEs1siXl-DoK5YrYp1zAW48bhWiVG8eB0lx-gqlax0oysichDy7nF_hSv2aoKDXduM/s320/santorini_sunset_wine_tour-8-768x574.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You earned this!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div><br /></div>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-19229227292615486442021-07-10T14:25:00.000+01:002021-07-10T14:25:49.908+01:00The Ugliest Flip-Flops<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigduw3p-drlzXXwxs0-rCBuPPLyrqLEcAzKeOP5wcOBsI50A_uzA9kCoZUt2yqc_pFfUPTuTA4u4i7j0Pbo5enG6lsnMAoX5BzyHYQsJhg2e-kaUlbWI81EGWxAlDoETx0FzQcd7I7hhs/s512/yellow+flip_flops_PNG47.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigduw3p-drlzXXwxs0-rCBuPPLyrqLEcAzKeOP5wcOBsI50A_uzA9kCoZUt2yqc_pFfUPTuTA4u4i7j0Pbo5enG6lsnMAoX5BzyHYQsJhg2e-kaUlbWI81EGWxAlDoETx0FzQcd7I7hhs/s320/yellow+flip_flops_PNG47.png" /></a></div><br /><p>WHY do I still have these? I got this pair of flip flops years ago, and I still have them though I never wear them. Let me tell you their story.</p><p><br /></p><p>I got them with my friend M when we went to a launch party for a new brand of beer. The company had gone to considerable effort with the party, going so far as to close the street and truck in enough sand to make a "beach" party. (I'm not exactly sure why they did that when the real beach was just a couple of blocks away. Whatever.) The bands were excellent, there was tons of food and swag and free beer. The problem was that the beer was awful. M and I joked about how bad this beer was, it remains a running joke between us now even though she has since moved halfway around the world. I won this pair of flip flops at that party. They are not comfortable. Really cheaply made, they don't fit right -- too long in the toes and too short in the heels. But they make up for being uncomfortable by being ugly. The soles are printed with the logo of that tasteless beer in gaudy colors. </p><p><br /></p><p>So, to summarize: I have flip flops I don't like, advertising a beer that I don't like, that I'm not at all sentimental about, taking up space in our storage. (Granted, they don't take a lot of space.) And I have much much better memories of friend M that I can call to mind whenever I want, photos and books and adventures we had together. So I really don't need these particular tangible reminders. Why, then, haven't they been thrown away?</p><p><br /></p><p>Well, it's precisely because I can call M to mind whenever I want. But I have to actively decide to think about her. The ugly flip flops ambush my vision at totally random times and bring her up unexpectedly. Like she pops into my brain of her own volition, and says, "Hey, remember that time I brought the boys to your place and you went down the slide with them over and over again?" or "Remember when the Indonesian restaurant did a pop-up dinner in the middle of the mall?". Always a pleasant surprise. So that's why I still have those stupid ugly flip flops ... just for the randomness of it.</p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-83958505171958235032021-05-13T16:25:00.000+01:002021-05-13T16:25:08.828+01:00Tiny Space Storage Hack: Bolsters and Pillows That Are Really Stuff Sacks<p> </p><p>In this small a space, we need to make every inch count. And now that we're living in the land of four seasons again, we need to store off-season clothing. Stashing it in a locker didn't work -- moisture led to mold led to ruin of my best coat. So we came up with this instead: keep them out in the open, in the air, and make them earn their keep by acting as cushions!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzikMEAgIqYZyRRugil4yzrxySUmlD8ldTaODSMVKcHDbToX3RMClIUdPUqII7FSEOnFW5iXRv_kBF8Ah_hRiPpi5GARXFqfvftPCkpbNO9cTW2e4iwVJJiTLdS7R8RiusLXrFbjw6R6Y/s960/blue+pillows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzikMEAgIqYZyRRugil4yzrxySUmlD8ldTaODSMVKcHDbToX3RMClIUdPUqII7FSEOnFW5iXRv_kBF8Ah_hRiPpi5GARXFqfvftPCkpbNO9cTW2e4iwVJJiTLdS7R8RiusLXrFbjw6R6Y/s320/blue+pillows.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These "pillows" are 14 inches/35 cm square with simple button tab closures. They hold flat-folded bedsheets or towels.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibIIqQ8aTG2zyqdLvqTQFPHdxl7Er4jqWQ6XgvImToYM1aPW1115cGQTWtZpL8qhG8fO6ru-v-LSPHeEYYYcSICKTzJ6s49wdmKndMkjZGk-1VjKnhZEME3e9hePtBCjHASdVAHCa4plY/s960/bolster+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibIIqQ8aTG2zyqdLvqTQFPHdxl7Er4jqWQ6XgvImToYM1aPW1115cGQTWtZpL8qhG8fO6ru-v-LSPHeEYYYcSICKTzJ6s49wdmKndMkjZGk-1VjKnhZEME3e9hePtBCjHASdVAHCa4plY/s320/bolster+1.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This "bolster" holds my off season clothing. It's 10 inches/25 cm diameter and 19 inches/about 50 cm long. Built as a simple cylinder. It has a drawstring closure, visible in the next photo.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC-jclGObOZuQJlBdgp5y6yL8x2VhXpEw9QQjf8IXEMkQUSpDrTM1r0SgCq0dhRWWAmW-JXysh8sklMWXJQyFxS8AbUX47xqmEfaktzm_GPf1jcTfdTfCcspp2n6wz8yLp3PdtSKwOjJw/s960/bolster+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC-jclGObOZuQJlBdgp5y6yL8x2VhXpEw9QQjf8IXEMkQUSpDrTM1r0SgCq0dhRWWAmW-JXysh8sklMWXJQyFxS8AbUX47xqmEfaktzm_GPf1jcTfdTfCcspp2n6wz8yLp3PdtSKwOjJw/s320/bolster+2.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The innards of the "bolster." Pro tip: it's actually two bags, an inner and an outer, with a layer of batting in between to make it softer to lean against and smooth out the visual lumps from irregularly shaped clothing. The fabric that makes up the end is a lightweight ripstop nylon instead of the heavier fabric that makes up the rest of the bolster, to allow it to be tightly gathered by the drawstring without bunching.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-80233839029392807492021-04-02T17:04:00.006+01:002021-04-02T21:28:06.719+01:00A Tour of Our Boat (Expanded, Updated, and Talking a Bit About Storage) <div class="separator"><br /></div><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSA2otpn_d2JizMwO8b4tRgJc2jIRD0YI3H8AI8ez5UtavloRsvXQvjwMGcwU-ARUD_UtUqZ95lIMKTW3h69qOxSpJPibmo0BdD2kMNy5Wu2_FqdagOaGUCpUgat9jNgRZTCnaG3bjmns/s750/VAQC2106.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="499" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSA2otpn_d2JizMwO8b4tRgJc2jIRD0YI3H8AI8ez5UtavloRsvXQvjwMGcwU-ARUD_UtUqZ95lIMKTW3h69qOxSpJPibmo0BdD2kMNy5Wu2_FqdagOaGUCpUgat9jNgRZTCnaG3bjmns/s320/VAQC2106.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Life on a sailboat! It's romantic, it's adventurous, and it's like a turtle -- very slow getting around, but when we finally get there, we have our home with us.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>It's about as tiny as small-space living gets. For almost 20 years and 25,000 sea miles, we've lived on a smallish sailboat 10 meters/33 feet long. Our main living space is a single room a bit less than 3 meters x 4 meters or 9x12 feet - 10 square meters/100 square feet. The designer managed to tuck into that tiny area everything we need - a place to cook, a place to eat, a place to socialize, a place to sit and think, and a place to sleep, helped greatly by multipurpose furniture. Of course, everything is built in, and bolted down so it won't go flying if we're tossed about at sea. And storage, though some of that storage happens in weirdly-shaped or damp quirky lockers dictated by the shape of the hull. Living in such a tiny space, though, has certainly forced us to think hard about our relationship to our possessions! Here's a brief photo tour, and I'll be following it with a few posts about strategies and tricks we've come up with to make our material lives fit. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyLi__Cs6nHTJ3_lrS4gUBy7PL38i6wGAg7XuwY7le-UOi4F11nlwWcfFb4Ii5Nx6lYR7jSS0fFzcAconxfgnmF_TmCxZaMCwSsWUMh1tlWwfP3aslMeBE4siskFBn8CaUpvSBkOIGRH4/s320/boat+tour+01.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyLi__Cs6nHTJ3_lrS4gUBy7PL38i6wGAg7XuwY7le-UOi4F11nlwWcfFb4Ii5Nx6lYR7jSS0fFzcAconxfgnmF_TmCxZaMCwSsWUMh1tlWwfP3aslMeBE4siskFBn8CaUpvSBkOIGRH4/s0/boat+tour+01.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLgL8qqZt9JjaIej5HQpxIE5G1YdfgG8ZQwaf9JSTRNaoTjOeczMB4OeozKxC4QIsnfE456q5_lzLQfwBdxFOiykSSf-vPcIJ0AvJVpcJ1U3bt8vRlM16PdiFgq2hgZYTfBpQwQfq4CNc/s1280/tb+main+salon+daytime+configuration.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLgL8qqZt9JjaIej5HQpxIE5G1YdfgG8ZQwaf9JSTRNaoTjOeczMB4OeozKxC4QIsnfE456q5_lzLQfwBdxFOiykSSf-vPcIJ0AvJVpcJ1U3bt8vRlM16PdiFgq2hgZYTfBpQwQfq4CNc/s320/tb+main+salon+daytime+configuration.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's the forward half of the main living area, set in its ordinary daytime configuration. There is storage tucked everywhere, inside the table, under and behind the seats, as well as the black sliding door lockers that are visible.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs3cFnMeuPaxSXzjtSvPiEmz2AlUCmgTm8Z13G_6JrjNX38tLHjjuAosG7b2X6g9BglbZn4egfgdGv5ybTG-ileVnFKJsm8DsxuEIHjf1gD89dKfSYrvfMZy1AUpgZVEUNfi-70BKSpbA/s1280/tb02+table+open+for+dinner+party.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs3cFnMeuPaxSXzjtSvPiEmz2AlUCmgTm8Z13G_6JrjNX38tLHjjuAosG7b2X6g9BglbZn4egfgdGv5ybTG-ileVnFKJsm8DsxuEIHjf1gD89dKfSYrvfMZy1AUpgZVEUNfi-70BKSpbA/s320/tb02+table+open+for+dinner+party.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If we're going to have friends over for dinner, the sides of the coffee table in the center fold out to make a big dining table.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMy8Uw8iMS4FCNYPeZePsNl_2XM-WG7uVhL5xcG7C-ddoInW_8QhwK3xm9c92HDBWf7FTg0LeGtTWekN5yQFVkSk22sW5uAj8jBWlOlg-u554mqZXx1sDyXYMUyhwqiz2MnZBj2cuvOtg/s1280/tb04+bed+folded+out+for+guests.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMy8Uw8iMS4FCNYPeZePsNl_2XM-WG7uVhL5xcG7C-ddoInW_8QhwK3xm9c92HDBWf7FTg0LeGtTWekN5yQFVkSk22sW5uAj8jBWlOlg-u554mqZXx1sDyXYMUyhwqiz2MnZBj2cuvOtg/s320/tb04+bed+folded+out+for+guests.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Or we can pull out the cushions and make a cozy double bed. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTMKrniVFYIRNz-nSqHuMOGMweQ0pv8r96RspqgnImNLLrXivBG8JYiGkXUhlBZChYXxXCMxC4PA5ojiEJmRhRv-d6FBMDJY_oTKaX4udXVP3NISLgGPu7A6Fl-_1bxqYM4uAYDPGVhA0/s1044/tb05+galley.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="785" data-original-width="1044" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTMKrniVFYIRNz-nSqHuMOGMweQ0pv8r96RspqgnImNLLrXivBG8JYiGkXUhlBZChYXxXCMxC4PA5ojiEJmRhRv-d6FBMDJY_oTKaX4udXVP3NISLgGPu7A6Fl-_1bxqYM4uAYDPGVhA0/s320/tb05+galley.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking in the other direction, here's the tiny galley. Even though it's small, it still has a stove, oven, fridge, two-basin sink. There's a dish cabinet over the sink, and two storage lockers behind the stove and the working counter. Lids on the counter lift up to access a fridge, freezer, and more storage. We also keep dry and canned goods in the locker behind the settee just outside of the galley on the far right of the photo. Bonus - everything is in arm's reach at all times, LOL! The stove is mounted so that it tilts and swings; always level even if we're underway. In addition to being space-efficient, the U-shape is very secure and keeps you from being tossed to the floor by waves while cooking.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrLSSLLa4qp1kIQtn1KvfcI0wRYz0LIYk4SoSLaNC_2PE_Lgh_e7xLIUchsbnUxRaKdQlOYmKHyrAsBLx1N21eCyMOg8DZGltus6OVSmw0xC9Y9OPGIFOET0ig2qqh-DGf8KM-0qHRex4/s800/tb+nav+2+better+resized.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrLSSLLa4qp1kIQtn1KvfcI0wRYz0LIYk4SoSLaNC_2PE_Lgh_e7xLIUchsbnUxRaKdQlOYmKHyrAsBLx1N21eCyMOg8DZGltus6OVSmw0xC9Y9OPGIFOET0ig2qqh-DGf8KM-0qHRex4/s320/tb+nav+2+better+resized.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just across from the galley is the navigation station (a.k.a. my desk). Under the liftable lid are stored everything from the ship's log and nautical charts, to ordinary office supplies and checkbook. Stairs lead up and outside to the cockpit.</td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjkDPbxq-8Pe9ZYDLNM306eqnDXzi7lACMLRJnFmQpiGYGElShL5N8uyWUoTV_j-Lh5w8NtVgsMFZxiS1yIq41taTxfNZY_NhpAG_PIFhdsMFMasNG_RF7grTowGSDndifFI5DByFfiq8/s1280/tb06+file+cabinet.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjkDPbxq-8Pe9ZYDLNM306eqnDXzi7lACMLRJnFmQpiGYGElShL5N8uyWUoTV_j-Lh5w8NtVgsMFZxiS1yIq41taTxfNZY_NhpAG_PIFhdsMFMasNG_RF7grTowGSDndifFI5DByFfiq8/s320/tb06+file+cabinet.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's one example of the hidden storage - my "file cabinet" inside the table. At various times in our 20 years here, these lockers have also held tools, spices, electronics, and games.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNfb0xwXWU5rhevxdWsnCNv-ktsArkamg24KaHIxSE2909lkrcLiuXHvpOkYOZv5AkZNp59NBZMh9-AG08bxtcnNVt846OM-fFeBpi6VcDTYOSGRY47t4yBgHAZnqwUshyphenhyphen5QmKE0e3tjw/s1600/tb07+v-berth.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNfb0xwXWU5rhevxdWsnCNv-ktsArkamg24KaHIxSE2909lkrcLiuXHvpOkYOZv5AkZNp59NBZMh9-AG08bxtcnNVt846OM-fFeBpi6VcDTYOSGRY47t4yBgHAZnqwUshyphenhyphen5QmKE0e3tjw/s320/tb07+v-berth.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tucked neatly into the bow of the boat is the v-berth where we normally sleep (again, with storage underneath). It's as wide as a king-size bed at the head, but our toes snuggle together at the point of the triangle. Because it completely spans the width of the boat, with those sides, we <i>can't</i> fall out of bed! Rails along the sides provide a bit more storage.<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEistNvfVhgHa0W4cPBUJg-3jtmhmBCiupZEfBge3Ow2yMVjV6nhDhDq56MNamPh2ZR8A_pMD1jjbCI5xEG_zu0fRZy5GTu-B-Sg53b-5Qhjd1mycUd2V5X78NlYzGiIcYQ8s_xV98fEmww/s1280/tb09+books+on+rail.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEistNvfVhgHa0W4cPBUJg-3jtmhmBCiupZEfBge3Ow2yMVjV6nhDhDq56MNamPh2ZR8A_pMD1jjbCI5xEG_zu0fRZy5GTu-B-Sg53b-5Qhjd1mycUd2V5X78NlYzGiIcYQ8s_xV98fEmww/s320/tb09+books+on+rail.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's a bit more of that storage rail that runs along to side of the bed. It's got a wooden lip to keep things from sliding off in a rough sea; we added the brass wire to secure books. We've got limited space for books, so we keep in hard copy mostly reference books; things we read linearly like novels go on the Kindle. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbuwYZFtfIDeCRP5h7r8vZcqdND5-A4fidzH9aYOWNiN7cSJ_SY2UUGdC47OEECvCiR7Rp0FDkSBatS4O6wDbmKqeSqXLu5wxnfAEUtIePrFzYtYL_olTO1dTyUfv1H_2LNgBfd16WGqg/s577/boat+tour+13.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="577" data-original-width="433" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbuwYZFtfIDeCRP5h7r8vZcqdND5-A4fidzH9aYOWNiN7cSJ_SY2UUGdC47OEECvCiR7Rp0FDkSBatS4O6wDbmKqeSqXLu5wxnfAEUtIePrFzYtYL_olTO1dTyUfv1H_2LNgBfd16WGqg/s320/boat+tour+13.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Between the main cabin and the v-berth is a short hallway. On one side is our clothing lockers and dresser.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX_wmD3YaHzqxYkJRkKluchFn7Q4gNn5US9TmLPiG5kXYwQ7o9Q_Og8bDp_KhdwB7NZE5arT0wo53QkUcRsp_PIaE6_N15fFMA-GaXZhyNqRykM8vtg8AXnDpw9NScslf1KB_f0Iq8fAI/s1280/tb08+clothing+locker.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX_wmD3YaHzqxYkJRkKluchFn7Q4gNn5US9TmLPiG5kXYwQ7o9Q_Og8bDp_KhdwB7NZE5arT0wo53QkUcRsp_PIaE6_N15fFMA-GaXZhyNqRykM8vtg8AXnDpw9NScslf1KB_f0Iq8fAI/s320/tb08+clothing+locker.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the inside of the largest locker. 10 hangers and 4 shelves. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4qq8CsAJp7sHB2K-6GjxP8y200OYpJxodtBrguhy9B4oUOYzMwML03OotbYyEiE8Q7vh4cSMzYTY9fpIfha4_xRICaBbf8fqkgxuU4r7gdEPM6Yn8TGz0d7_7lEGHz2XkQTAt3NHc1ZE/s577/boat+tour+11.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="577" data-original-width="433" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4qq8CsAJp7sHB2K-6GjxP8y200OYpJxodtBrguhy9B4oUOYzMwML03OotbYyEiE8Q7vh4cSMzYTY9fpIfha4_xRICaBbf8fqkgxuU4r7gdEPM6Yn8TGz0d7_7lEGHz2XkQTAt3NHc1ZE/s320/boat+tour+11.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the other side of the hallway is the bathroom ("head" in boatspeak). The sink faucet pulls out, and the entire room becomes a shower stall -- it's designed so it can get wet, and has a drain in the floor.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwVZYwOuvw_yuqnHfT9TJEpICVc6TnyOJfmws7gIM5NnV109nb8RBP3zLrP05IUAYbbEOv3mDI9hKZIpeV63mCUNBb2IDQPyEmsGUN2lJpNVvjzxlQ3GFiLy6Na2GO7V3kUd1Dt0zpDpI/s577/boat+tour+12.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="577" data-original-width="433" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwVZYwOuvw_yuqnHfT9TJEpICVc6TnyOJfmws7gIM5NnV109nb8RBP3zLrP05IUAYbbEOv3mDI9hKZIpeV63mCUNBb2IDQPyEmsGUN2lJpNVvjzxlQ3GFiLy6Na2GO7V3kUd1Dt0zpDpI/s320/boat+tour+12.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm standing outside of the bathroom to take this photo - this is <i>all</i> there is!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXMOfv5pj3OKDPZUyWg4jMUDdUvfm0gE3d8b67Zh6OB4inVYK8p1z8uo5Ijoai3m9J9qNonP6Lgxcgi2B-jF1h1gZr-E-ZQ-gdPw3Zp6XsHLT15TKyizCgAamFc2vYCxa3XaGoW1niym4/s1600/tb10+cockpit+as+we+like+it+best+-+filled+with+friends.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1197" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXMOfv5pj3OKDPZUyWg4jMUDdUvfm0gE3d8b67Zh6OB4inVYK8p1z8uo5Ijoai3m9J9qNonP6Lgxcgi2B-jF1h1gZr-E-ZQ-gdPw3Zp6XsHLT15TKyizCgAamFc2vYCxa3XaGoW1niym4/s320/tb10+cockpit+as+we+like+it+best+-+filled+with+friends.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If the weather is even remotely nice, though, we spend most of our time outdoors in the cockpit. And here's how we like it best, filled with friends! The guy in the gold shirt on the tall helmsman's seat, is the one who taught us how to sail. And though you can't really tell it from the photo, each side bench is long enough to stretch out and sleep on. And once again, the seat covers lift up to provide storage underneath. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-64895496076220462072021-03-22T22:14:00.003+00:002021-05-08T18:45:38.306+01:00Nothing Gold Can Stay<p> </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIQgBGiLtkXgYnZ8qvvjf-17DzdiuX_rcDdySBumTWFEU6WSt_vgSNkq7FLZUvqEcTVSXyYcMME2bgLqewD-MNbkOhFu-zTG-mT1Ea9qEljzv-RHXKthisJPw-8FhRr3fUT_IfolrdMas/s2048/me+and+my+shadow+ed.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIQgBGiLtkXgYnZ8qvvjf-17DzdiuX_rcDdySBumTWFEU6WSt_vgSNkq7FLZUvqEcTVSXyYcMME2bgLqewD-MNbkOhFu-zTG-mT1Ea9qEljzv-RHXKthisJPw-8FhRr3fUT_IfolrdMas/s320/me+and+my+shadow+ed.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A crew member in the rigging of Pride of Baltimore casts his shadow on the sail. <br />(Photo by David Sites, image edited to black-and-white by me)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxogc_DSnnoTADDMwuMuUpw9ZmI6DjLuKEp2_D2eSTQzjSRBsQaC8ujR9w6u5bdhQwckSFO9iuhf48OUZzoCPnM2smn2Xs0SmdKSQ7GRencoE6MKEAN4fNkMtVeZRXgYMQdJXWnGP0jU/s1862/in+santa+maria+rigging+cr+burlesque.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1862" data-original-width="1483" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxogc_DSnnoTADDMwuMuUpw9ZmI6DjLuKEp2_D2eSTQzjSRBsQaC8ujR9w6u5bdhQwckSFO9iuhf48OUZzoCPnM2smn2Xs0SmdKSQ7GRencoE6MKEAN4fNkMtVeZRXgYMQdJXWnGP0jU/s320/in+santa+maria+rigging+cr+burlesque.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the rigging of the Nao Santa Maria, in 2019 when it was my turn -- <br />the magic already fading to gray in my memory.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p>My mind is a little collage of quotes and images swirling, but all on a common theme. Nothing great lasts forever; the glory days inevitably end; longing to still be living them; and knowing they will never really exist again that way (if they were even ever real). Words like the Portuguese <a href="http://lifeafloatarchives.blogspot.com/2020/10/saudade.html">saudade</a> and its Welsh cousin hidraeth that articulate this melancholy homesick longing for what is lost. Quotes like “Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened;” and “How lucky we are, to have had something that makes saying goodbye so hard;” and the Robert Frost poem that this blog post is titled after, one of the first poems that I loved enough to memorize back in high school, and never forgot.</p><p>Pride of Baltimore tall ship came in to the Annapolis harbor for the weekend and we went down to watch. We knew there were no deck tours offered, due to Covid, but I thought maybe to tiptoe back into the tall ship circuit, chat with one of the crew from dockside and swap a few tales. How their cook almost lured ours away during reciprocal ship tours in Philadelphia because they had such a well appointed galley compared to ours; or seeing them anchored at sunset as we shared a safe harbor at Matane in Quebec awaiting Hurricane Dorian. </p><p>But that was not to happen. We weren't visibly part of the tall ship community any more. To the crew on board we were just ordinary dockside passers-by in jeans and navy blue windbreakers gazing at the ship. Not even enough eye contact for the crew onboard to realize that those jackets we wore bore the logos of fellow tall ships. The crew was busy, coiling lines, stitching sails, oiling leather. We know those jobs! We've been the ones climbing in the rigging, scrubbing the decks, and answering for the nth time the curious questions of the slightly-awed public on the docks. But those jobs were being done by someone else now, not us. Perhaps that's the way of anything you accomplish if you try for greatness. Eventually those golden days always end, the world goes on, and you're on the outside looking in.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicHdn-j0zdkILegeMRtjKysp7EX4d__70HqGXNDpV4jaoIYRXbqtH0WPEN6OkIejDgk741vMY9_vk2iLGImPaBULUYBulh3CerjwxJlbUfmf0dNOqxFV2P4DzH4KYnC_XneqJ-6asw65M/s1632/portrait+sketch+sm.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="1632" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicHdn-j0zdkILegeMRtjKysp7EX4d__70HqGXNDpV4jaoIYRXbqtH0WPEN6OkIejDgk741vMY9_vk2iLGImPaBULUYBulh3CerjwxJlbUfmf0dNOqxFV2P4DzH4KYnC_XneqJ-6asw65M/s320/portrait+sketch+sm.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A couple of old pirates, sharing confidences on the midnight watch<br /> (charcoal sketch by KC Cali)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Dan has been working at recasting our pirate characters' back stories for our new location and an English, rather than Spanish, heritage. So now these two characters were the ship's carpenter and the (cross-dressed, disguised) navigator on an English merchant ship that had been captured by the Spanish, and we worked aboard those Spanish ships for many years, and finally, in St Augustine, Florida, managed to leave, and make our way back to English territory in the Chesapeake. We made those characters “retired” pirates though, they are settling down and no longer dream of going back to the wild, high seas. Feels a bit melancholy to frame our characters in that context, and at the same time it gives us a platform for our Spanish cultural history explanations, and also is a story that makes sense of our ages – at 70 it's sort of ludicrous to portray a woman disguised as a young boy. Surprisingly, it also feels very comforting. A chapter is ending and it's time to turn the page and see how the next part of the story unfolds. It really was time ... better to retire while our former colleagues regret our departure than wait until they're relieved to be rid of us! But it still makes me more than a little sad; from here it's hard to imagine what that next chapter could possibly be, to rival the excitement of the previous one. Which is just exactly the point -- we've lucked into some incredible adventures, that deeply changed us, and the best way to honor them is to share those stories. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0w661fvo6gfeZVQNNI2xXFdrXrK3M9Mu5c3DJ_K0ES6lgXl9ZNuVtSNH7Eo8S3GUgxu9mqNNHmluQVj2FQGhBGMX3Lm43PZ5kDvIC2X92SPyiSnN8JX7mYQ8gK5ZVL74PhzZkwLhRp7Y/s663/aspen-golden-leaves+text.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="466" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0w661fvo6gfeZVQNNI2xXFdrXrK3M9Mu5c3DJ_K0ES6lgXl9ZNuVtSNH7Eo8S3GUgxu9mqNNHmluQVj2FQGhBGMX3Lm43PZ5kDvIC2X92SPyiSnN8JX7mYQ8gK5ZVL74PhzZkwLhRp7Y/s320/aspen-golden-leaves+text.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-64136906307889124782021-03-01T18:24:00.001+00:002021-03-08T13:29:08.609+00:00Masks: Life Imitates Art<p><br /></p><p> I'm (weirdly) finding that other than the issue of my glasses fogging, I like masks. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfJ6s8yIBjstQ8Rto2z6GXkrqnrwgsbcYQl69xbA0vcbh1zdm6xEzwnPGxi_IaA_-XwXtmobr2B0ID4zda5jfm6tKhS7p3UscWRPLo3gB8cDq1kyzmdCfuNoGGArJc7hohJx3yCL6M0M/s2048/sIMG_4809.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfJ6s8yIBjstQ8Rto2z6GXkrqnrwgsbcYQl69xbA0vcbh1zdm6xEzwnPGxi_IaA_-XwXtmobr2B0ID4zda5jfm6tKhS7p3UscWRPLo3gB8cDq1kyzmdCfuNoGGArJc7hohJx3yCL6M0M/s320/sIMG_4809.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sailboats, anchors, shooting stars, birds ... our masks express our personalities as much as they express our commitment to staying safe.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>I have face-blindness. Not horribly bad, but enough so that it's difficult for me to immediately recognize people especially when they're out of their proper context – running into my doctor in the grocery store, for example. I loved working for DoD – everyone had their name right on their uniform! And, typically, found it challenging when people were allowed to wear business casual to work on Fridays and the last two weeks of December.</p><p><br /></p><p>So with everyone wearing masks and a little harder to recognize, my difficulty with faces is not so obvious. It's a great equalizer. And more; the masks themselves became a clue. My friend B. always wears a bright red mask and that makes it very easy for me to know it's her even when I can't see her face. I'm reminded of a science fiction story I read as a kid where everyone personalized their standard issue black and white space suit helmet so they could be recognized at a distance. Cheeky pink polka dots, or tiger stripes, or neon green, whatever, both practical and an expression of their personality. </p><p><br /></p><p>Life imitates art? Here we are in 2020 living that children's story. Very early in the lockdown we made ourselves a pair of masks by cutting up a pair of old tight-weave cotton pants. Then my wonderfully talented equaintance-turned-IRL-friend T. made us a set that are unique and reflect our interests. Now if I could just find that spaceship, I figure that living on Cinderella for 18+ years has given us lots of practice. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfFdSqOpeOvbPRHOmXlCHxfFqxq7WKG0W-PKE8DlEEzkjqhQokQ4vbgh1R9MDNL_MMHjIghcYKkHlXUZHoQyvEdAfpP1cIdTWxekijhXDdp9i2k0qAGv95NAyODUKA452q7MMTAbRPz4/s2048/sIMG_4926.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfFdSqOpeOvbPRHOmXlCHxfFqxq7WKG0W-PKE8DlEEzkjqhQokQ4vbgh1R9MDNL_MMHjIghcYKkHlXUZHoQyvEdAfpP1cIdTWxekijhXDdp9i2k0qAGv95NAyODUKA452q7MMTAbRPz4/s320/sIMG_4926.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These were made for a (tiny, socially distant) outdoor wedding. Decades from now, when the grandkids look at the wedding pictures, they'll be able to definitively date the event -- "That's <i>so</i> 2020!"</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZp-aOwQtgzmip70qFWO9v8cIlFdo_oe_RpDV4FekCKBbGNjuXtAbj1BZTFZMBsUky5ai78PdoKM7TX3UJKgm2Yivzco7KbnpHI-OuU97dUbLxGLZNA2ndljQQVZnvEXvwwfcvGymY-nk/s2000/sIMG_5256.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZp-aOwQtgzmip70qFWO9v8cIlFdo_oe_RpDV4FekCKBbGNjuXtAbj1BZTFZMBsUky5ai78PdoKM7TX3UJKgm2Yivzco7KbnpHI-OuU97dUbLxGLZNA2ndljQQVZnvEXvwwfcvGymY-nk/s320/sIMG_5256.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">T. was really well-positioned to take this on; when she's not busy making face masks, T. does some incredible fabric art. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-78598124564406220202020-12-17T16:54:00.004+00:002020-12-18T23:36:25.850+00:00Trrrrrruck! x2!<p> </p><p>“Dispirited” was far too mild a word to describe our state of mind as we tried to figure out what our next year was going to be like without tall ship sailing, living history, or any of our favourite boating-related social gatherings. Nor were we sure about boating itself, between the possibility of marinas/fuel services being closed or restricted due to virus, and the fact that we couldn't comfortably tour and visit cities and towns along the way, if we decided to take the ICW north. But there was an alternative way to get to the Chesapeake for the summer – a truck! (Two trucks, actually; more on that later.) And since the boat was already out of the water, with the mast removed and all the lockers empty due to the chain plates project, we realized a lot of the work and cost was already covered.</p><p><br /></p><p>Those empty lockers were going to be an issue. Generally when trucking, the boat has to be empty, lockers, water tanks, fuel tanks, everything – both to keep overall weight down, and to prevent weird stresses during moving, on lockers and hull sections that are usually supported by water. So the things that normally lived in those lockers would be moved in our car, which (we checked!) could hold exactly 14 Home Depot “small” moving boxes 12x12x16. We own a lot more than 14 small moving boxes worth of stuff, so everything else would remain behind in the storage unit we already maintained in St Augustine until we could go back with a moving truck to retrieve it, probably in the spring. Our minimalist lifestyle was about to temporarily get even more minimal. </p><p><br /></p><p>We found a fabulous trucking option in <a href="http://usboathaulers.com/">US Boat Haulers</a>. Excellent communicator, on time (actually a bit early), and although not the cheapest option, we were more than willing to pay for peace of mind. And we had a nice little bonus. I asked Chris, the owner-operator what I needed to empty, and he chuckled. “Nothing! My truck could hold two Cinderellas,” he explained. “Fifty-five feet or 55,000 pounds. You can pack that boat completely full of anything you want and you still won't exceed my weight limit.” </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AgsffUrIQLm4BxhhQjo2HeaZCjsahcRb51hWXhrwNJHBkJWHgY0nEzkk9xa2xbIcdiym4ijl5m9eZnySFDJMv8J4pD3mUcP4ZBuDAOylWouOQ4EQZwOL-UJrTzHsDPa9c3Drn8dDjSw/s2048/IMG_5407.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AgsffUrIQLm4BxhhQjo2HeaZCjsahcRb51hWXhrwNJHBkJWHgY0nEzkk9xa2xbIcdiym4ijl5m9eZnySFDJMv8J4pD3mUcP4ZBuDAOylWouOQ4EQZwOL-UJrTzHsDPa9c3Drn8dDjSw/s320/IMG_5407.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why, hello there, Annapolis!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAUCY9KRH2OA9ZSDNtbXyUlJd583vrS0sFGRXHeVhnR_DKKZP9ydjxNVbZ5azRZH4E5hzC9dhSvNqLLSdfNP3x7ie9h8jEclOmo0CI09BnEogC4vCo92zD1LcJNT2ab3M-m3r8omJGYVI/s2048/IMG_5410.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAUCY9KRH2OA9ZSDNtbXyUlJd583vrS0sFGRXHeVhnR_DKKZP9ydjxNVbZ5azRZH4E5hzC9dhSvNqLLSdfNP3x7ie9h8jEclOmo0CI09BnEogC4vCo92zD1LcJNT2ab3M-m3r8omJGYVI/s320/IMG_5410.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the back, you can get a better view of just how oversize Chris' truck was for little Cinderella!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>Sails and sailcovers and shade awning and other boat canvas filled the v-berth; and boxes of books and clothing and kitchen utensils and tools were stacked two-deep across the main cabin floor. Our car held our electronics, valuables, papers, and clothing for about a week of varied weather. The marina picked up Cinderella and put it on Chris' trailer with the mast beside it, and off we all went.</p><p><br /></p><p>We drove through northern Florida and Georgia and passed the exits for now-familiar cities, Jacksonville and Brunswick and Savannah. I said a mental goodbye to graceful Spanish moss on trees. South Carolina had billboards for fast food, personal-injury lawyers, and Jesus, and seemingly little else. Someone had gleefully spray-painted “LOST!!” on all the Trump posters. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1BBDPT5CuRwrGz1pBXmv-AijCMnJmA2DMCFPI1ypKewunWkb7YX2LZHDVJv2JDILwAPOPbF_tqqvnsgvSUlnkb98ZJmRZxuVhGPmey_Cym_Br3_U1ma_J4Tlp2PAr9EjV1M1mSJhvAi8/s800/Spanish-Moss.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="351" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1BBDPT5CuRwrGz1pBXmv-AijCMnJmA2DMCFPI1ypKewunWkb7YX2LZHDVJv2JDILwAPOPbF_tqqvnsgvSUlnkb98ZJmRZxuVhGPmey_Cym_Br3_U1ma_J4Tlp2PAr9EjV1M1mSJhvAi8/s320/Spanish-Moss.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spanish moss image from <a href="https://airplantforest.com/spanish-moss/">here</a> </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3OdqpIAE1jPiJIiuXtwK_ev3IZ-3LDbTmfU7aa_eG7q1q9yxHT3H-CDQNGu2k1bLhNtqcOTzbTXASkrrZbTKErsqec9TmglDo1VdcybZdp6v4B4RIyk5GVuMs3OERX-agiTAhxZO9q30/s2048/IMG_5488.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3OdqpIAE1jPiJIiuXtwK_ev3IZ-3LDbTmfU7aa_eG7q1q9yxHT3H-CDQNGu2k1bLhNtqcOTzbTXASkrrZbTKErsqec9TmglDo1VdcybZdp6v4B4RIyk5GVuMs3OERX-agiTAhxZO9q30/s320/IMG_5488.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our hotel room; Spanish moss gilded by the early morning sunlight</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>We continued through North Carolina and into Virginia and passed the sign that said, “Entering Chesapeake Bay Watershed” and grinned at each other. We drove past an intricate-shaped tiled roof on a cool historical building and made a note of places to explore in Richmond. We were really looking forward to having four distinct seasons again, and delighted in the colors of the trees – bronze and gold and weathered bricky red and russet and deep green. The colors were soft and autumnal, fitting with the gently rolling hills. They weren't the brilliant yellow of the aspens against dark pines we remembered fondly from our time in Colorado; nor the blazing orange of the maples in Michigan. They were slow and subtle. And the light! Long and soft, but clear, like golden hour in the middle of the afternoon. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qf958jR5vBKA9srNBXAUg6tkPkLkCo4fcbuw9nVnAxXYim8IoQ6PPGs6cnZMu8ZuNflo-rxJL8K4adgPoEiT-493SGB1sJqpyWGYacT1m6bx2c6DbezcPgMK392aNMiRVqVTkXEC7gM/s404/chesapeake+bay+watershed+sign.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="404" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qf958jR5vBKA9srNBXAUg6tkPkLkCo4fcbuw9nVnAxXYim8IoQ6PPGs6cnZMu8ZuNflo-rxJL8K4adgPoEiT-493SGB1sJqpyWGYacT1m6bx2c6DbezcPgMK392aNMiRVqVTkXEC7gM/s320/chesapeake+bay+watershed+sign.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Chris texted us regular updates of his position and conditions. The most remarkable text was that he had arrived in Annapolis a full day early after a trip that had been completely without incident. A few hours later, Cinderella was back in the water, and we motored her to her new slip in the same marina we had left from, 11 years and over 25,000 sea miles ago.</p><p><br /></p><p>We spent the next few weeks settling in, and revisiting once-familiar places. I was simultaneously amazed at how much things had changed, and how much they hadn't. </p><p><br /></p><p>Rather suddenly, Dan had a really strong premonition that we needed to go back to Florida to bring our stuff from storage, sooner rather than later. We couldn't explain it, but agreed to respect it. A few hours of intensive logistics and scheduling work later, we had a plan, and I had pages of confirmation numbers, phone numbers, times and dates and addresses in a worn notebook I had been using to keep track of details since we first decided to move back in September, that I nicknamed my “external brain” and took everywhere with me. We'd be leaving Monday morning right after Thanksgiving. At this time of year, rental car companies are often looking to move cars one way from the Northeast to Florida; we've paid as little as $10/day in past years. Although we didn't do quite as well as that this time, we still caught a nice deal, and found a surprisingly good rate on a motel in St Augustine that had been newly renovated. </p><p><br /></p><p>We rented a moving truck from Penske for the return trip. They were excellent about confirming (and re-confirming and re-re-confirming) that it would be ready on the agreed date. Then, the day before we were to pick it up, they called and said, “Hey, we'll have a truck for you at the promised time, but we don't have the agreed size. Are you okay with a bigger one at no extra charge?” My reply: “Ma'am, as long as it goes when I put my foot on the gas, I'm fine with whatever you've got.” And that's how we ended up with BYT (Big Yellow Truck).</p><p><br /></p><p>I figured bigger would just mean easier to load, but BYT was huge! Per their website, it was sized to move a small house, 25,000 pounds and a 22-foot box, all for our little 10x10 storage unit. We could have saved money on hotels on the way back if we'd just unrolled our sleeping bags on a stack of unused furniture pads in the unneeded space at the back of the cargo bay. A nice extra was that BYT was brand new, a 2021 model. It had a wide range of safety features that were startling at first, but quickly became reassuring. It beeped when it sensed we were closing the distance to the vehicle in front of us, ponged when we strayed out of our lane without using the turn signal (I guess that's how it decided we were purposely changing lanes instead of drifting inattentively or accidentally), and chirped when it caught you speeding (presumably that meant it had GPS tracking somewhere to know where we were and what the speed limit was at that location?). BYT also had air brakes, so it made “big truck” noises. I once heard their hiss and looked around to see where was the 18 wheeler that was overtaking us. Like a character in a bad cartoon I looked in every direction, saw nothing, and then sheepishly realized that the sound was … coming from me. In fact, another trucker we met at a filling station was somewhat surprised that we were given a truck as large as BYT when neither of us had a CDL license. I later learned that we were a mere 1,000 lbs below the limit. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufBf4rPKZ9d5H-Qhh8Imt5vmTxhz70kOMwnh0Fb1wXXBD8__mPhJrTyCTDFLr_gAmgr3dOddC27nAVCaeAhqSTw5tkXx1rWZ9EoHv7-8-P4EP_QjguDupvRcQjbYZGuzCl2XVN6tnO1g/s2048/IMG_5490.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufBf4rPKZ9d5H-Qhh8Imt5vmTxhz70kOMwnh0Fb1wXXBD8__mPhJrTyCTDFLr_gAmgr3dOddC27nAVCaeAhqSTw5tkXx1rWZ9EoHv7-8-P4EP_QjguDupvRcQjbYZGuzCl2XVN6tnO1g/s320/IMG_5490.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Yellow Truck!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>The good ol' boys at the rental counter cautiously asked if we'd ever driven anything like this before, and visibly relaxed when Dan said he'd grown up on a farm, so yes he had. We had also driven a similar truck when we moved my kid brother's household goods from Arizona back to Colorado, and even towed a car behind said truck, and done it over mountain passes, but that had been almost 30 years ago.</p><p><br /></p><p>We parked BYT at the storage facility and spent two days repacking our boxes of stored possessions. We have off-season cruising stuff, tools, and long-term items like family heirlooms, memorabilia from 4 summers on the tall ships, lots and lots of books, things we wanted to keep but didn't necessarily fit on a 33-foot boat. Packing for the jostling of moving is different than packing for stationary storage, and we wrapped breakables and bulked out boxes with crumpled paper so they wouldn't crush if we bounced if we hit a bump or pothole. I fondly remembered my BFF Karen's father's wise moving advice - “There should never be empty space in any box.” We loaded the finished boxes onto the big professional-grade moving dolly provided by the rental company and wheeled them up the sturdy loading ramp, carefully stowing the heaviest boxes on the bottom and lighter or more fragile ones above. We had literally two boxes left to load, on the last afternoon, when Dan reported a “situation” with the truck. Seems a guy had tried to drive behind the base of the ramp and pull into a parking spot on the far side of the truck, misjudged the turn and was now suspended sideways on the ramp! He couldn't go forward or back because his wheels weren't touching the ground; we couldn't lower the ramp because you had to raise it first to get the hooks out of the back bumper (which we of course couldn't do with a car resting on it); we couldn't drive forward because we were already nose-to the side of the building; and there wasn't room to hook up a tow truck. We were both very, very stuck.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRsYlJQ6cpQoKQZgRxWHCKqog15Oi-5aIXxZIeHgOlur1he-kDlvdNmXlN5ayPRv9-2C21zUyK0F9zt_VfVIwIHpPp5KYrKzITwmgUXX8FwI0uXiT7gHA-NVnYR4EnxowvfxQdp7hmHik/s2048/IMG_5501.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRsYlJQ6cpQoKQZgRxWHCKqog15Oi-5aIXxZIeHgOlur1he-kDlvdNmXlN5ayPRv9-2C21zUyK0F9zt_VfVIwIHpPp5KYrKzITwmgUXX8FwI0uXiT7gHA-NVnYR4EnxowvfxQdp7hmHik/s320/IMG_5501.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kinda like those memes of a turtle on a fence post - you're left wondering how it got there</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>Fortunately, the car was quite small. He called his wife and asked her to buy “the biggest jack they sell at Auto Zone” and bring it. With a little creativity, he was able to jack the car up just barely high enough to take the weight off the loading ramp, and we were able to partly lower the ramp so that after a few iterations of back-and-forth he could drive off. No damage at all to the ramp, and only minor damage to the car frame. We learned later that the car was brand new; he'd only had it for 3 days, which unfamiliarity no doubt contributed to the “situation.” </p><p><br /></p><p>After that drama was sorted, we headed to our motel for our last night in St Augustine, prepared for an early start next morning after dropping off our rental car. Once we got into the rhythm of driving BYT it was kind of fun to be so big. Regular cars either went around us or stayed out of our way, and we were eye-to-eye with other truckers. We pulled up at the agricultural inspection station at the Florida-Georgia state line and the inspector just asked, “Whatcha haulin?” like we were any other regular transport professionals – I somehow thought that the bright yellow rental was the equivalent to having a giant sign that said “we're clueless amateurs!” but apparently not. “Household goods,” I replied, then, excitedly, “We're moving to Maryland!” He smiled, gave us a thumbs-up, and waved us forward on our way. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9PjSMotMNNR7HpvNut0dMDLnfTMek8BTT-Eu6WFVweOBf_u0o3b5LDvs7FqMn3tX0zo4phqwfSaWCXwSMMJSH6t646b7CET5ZDKKQxzz55gASb8gq8a2uMDUdIub473fiCv6i2XhBLk/s2048/IMG_5500.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9PjSMotMNNR7HpvNut0dMDLnfTMek8BTT-Eu6WFVweOBf_u0o3b5LDvs7FqMn3tX0zo4phqwfSaWCXwSMMJSH6t646b7CET5ZDKKQxzz55gASb8gq8a2uMDUdIub473fiCv6i2XhBLk/s320/IMG_5500.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside BYT -- all that extra space! We had more stuff than this, including our inflatable kayak, but never needed to stack the boxes more than 3 high, as shown.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>Driving something that big was unexpectedly tiring, though, in addition to the fact that we really only wanted to travel during daylight hours and good weather, so it took us three days to complete what was normally a 13-hour drive from St Aug to Annapolis. The first day, we only drove about 4 hours, and stopped short due to wind and rain further north. We were tired from all the boxes the previous day, so relaxing in a hotel was really appreciated. Weird during the Time of Covid, though. Normally we'd have been all over exploring a new restaurant; instead we had ramen noodles in the hotel room, using water heated up in our little electric teakettle. We called Penske in Annapolis to say we were delayed by weather and were going to need an extra day on the rental. It felt weird saying that, because it was mild and sunny where we were in South Carolina. It probably helped our credibility, though, that there was a nor'easter howling through Annapolis that day – the weather we were avoiding by stopping short. They were great about it, saying that they wanted people to respect the weather and not take risks, thanked us for our caution, and gave us the extra day for free. Nice; I hadn't had any reason to expect that. </p><p><br /></p><p>The second driving day was a Saturday, and we stopped near the southern edge of the Washington DC metro area that evening, leaving about 90 minutes drive remaining on what we hoped would be light traffic on the normally busy beltway for early Sunday morning. I joked about being a blue haired lady from Florida with a death grip on the steering wheel, driving slowly in the big city traffic. Never mind that the "blue" was a streaky turquoise and navy mix on my bangs, or the "driving slowly" part was being what seemed to be the only vehicle on the Beltway that was sticking strictly to the speed limit because (a) BYT chirped at me otherwise, and (b) 13 tons of truck is rather intimidating to maneuver. The good news was that we had completely missed any bad weather, and instead we had a brisk, sunny day to unload. It was a ridiculous number of boxes all told, though – by the time the truck was empty my fitness app recorded that I had walked 5.5 km, just back and forth from the truck to the storage shed. (Actually, I walked even more than that, since I hadn't had my phone in my pocket the entire time.) Later, Dan pointed out that for the first time since we left Colorado in 1998, everything we owned – liveaboard boat, rental houses, and now, stored possessions – was within a 5-mile radius of each other. It might take a while to get used to. </p><p><br /></p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4708230140827355204.post-17014977096838451232020-12-10T19:42:00.002+00:002020-12-10T19:42:41.355+00:00Leaving Florida <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcVderNzEXT2_CHU4zc_Uli5pvnAVksMBu7RXTvuVYCsxZ9wvA5Mq2S4dNMxrluoEI77n75e1wUcNRImyPa6wIkezkdM68DSYY8Sl_a52vkdXODUfxQJZ1vl4zLY7c2v84wYYfpNndFaQ/s512/leaving+florida+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="404" data-original-width="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcVderNzEXT2_CHU4zc_Uli5pvnAVksMBu7RXTvuVYCsxZ9wvA5Mq2S4dNMxrluoEI77n75e1wUcNRImyPa6wIkezkdM68DSYY8Sl_a52vkdXODUfxQJZ1vl4zLY7c2v84wYYfpNndFaQ/s320/leaving+florida+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I've written many press releases as part of my job, but as we prepared to leave Florida I searched for ways to say farewell to our friends (and put a more positive spin on it than, "We hate the way the state is handling the virus; we've gotta run, 'bye."), it felt like I was crafting a press release for my own life. It went something like this: </p><p></p><blockquote><p> We'd been planning to cruise Cinderella north next spring, since coronavirus has pretty much destroyed our El Galeon trips. But now we've had an unanticipated opportunity to get Cinderella to the Chesapeake for about 2 years beginning this fall instead. (Going north in November? Yikes!)</p><p><br /></p><p>Sadly, we're going to have to relinquish our slip at the Municipal Marina downtown. It just doesn't make financial sense to hold on for 2 years. We'll come by later in the week to say goodbye and tell everyone the details. It has been absolutely delightful living here for the last 7 years . St Aug will always have a special pull for us; I'm certain we will be back for many visits. </p><p><br /></p><p>Beginning Nov 2 we will be trucking Cinderella to her next home port in Annapolis, MD. ETA November 5. I'm very, very, conflicted – we love St Augustine for the town's Spanish history, its physical beauty, and the committed cruising community … but the sailing is underwhelming. We're happy to explore new cruising grounds for a while. </p><p><br /></p><p>We've done the entire ICW or US East Coast outside 8 times south and 7 times north on Cinderella and the Spanish tall ships we work on during the summers, plus several sections more times on paid deliveries of other private boats, so we don't feel like we're “missing” anything doing this one by truck. And we got a great rate since most trucks are carrying boasts south this time of year and we're going the “wrong” direction on what would otherwise be an empty deadhead load.</p><p></p></blockquote><p><br /></p><p>Sometimes I think I know what people must feel like as they go into exile; I look longingly at the pretty little Spanish town we can't safely live in any more. I remember walking those cobbled streets, eating in those restaurants, watching the sunrises from those beaches. “You'll be back,” quipped my friend Michelle. She, like me, is from Colorado, traveled by boat, docked in St Augustine, fell in love and didn't leave. “This town has a bungee cord. The farther you go away, the stronger the pull to return.” “It's dug its hooks into my heart,” I agreed. “And it's ripping me up to leave it.”</p><p><br /></p><p> Other times, my emotions are flat. As though I'm reading a badly written book about things that happened to someone else, I can't remember ever feeling those feelings of love and familiarity for this place. </p><p><br /></p><p>As we drove north in our giant bright yellow rental van with all our possessions except the boat in it, and passed the Florida state line for the last (?) time it was more a sort of sadness without passion or anger; just, "bye, Florida, sorry it didn't work out."</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Dan N Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17910909942198901223noreply@blogger.com0