tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71853804877912387492024-03-12T23:22:24.818-04:00Looking for the wild"I love the wild not less than the good." Thoreau -On Walden PondUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger480125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-491133165385531802024-02-21T10:21:00.000-04:002024-02-21T10:21:29.175-04:00The Sea that Soothes<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We’ve been coming to Charlotteville for over thirty years
now since the children were small.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We liked being in a cottage with no barriers to the beach.
We liked that we could walk barefoot to the village, listening for the conch
call to fish in the depot. We liked the little library on the beach front. Still
welcoming is an air-conditioned library in the square of municipal buildings,
with an updated selection of books and wi-fi connectivity.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">For the years while the children were growing and going
away, we let those easy pleasures of a simple Charlotteville week slip, not
remembered but not forgotten. They flavoured the feelings from carefree times with never to be forgotten treks to Pirates Bay, Little Tobago, pulling
seine, collecting shells, and the dimly recalled taste of turnovers – a sugary
ooze of coconut wrapped in the tenderest butter pastry. Who remembers the man
who made these and sold them on the beach?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> <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/AVvXsEgUhIm5mATcjZxHhfhb25bbaYocvuzDP4LADl0SrwWYb67bYxCbxAKaluCnytJk25lMW6JTFchLGnAWDP9FYlEHsey7FJ87qpUF3lwKDz1Xf9C8bk4Z4d3Q3zNv9rwdPnXE_exxWtWNVxPxUl9KalzeEDQ72Ayuh75CSx_X8yojxzzC8ZDPnEiRBJlPhG8/s3840/charlotte%20sea%20day%201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2160" data-original-width="3840" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhIm5mATcjZxHhfhb25bbaYocvuzDP4LADl0SrwWYb67bYxCbxAKaluCnytJk25lMW6JTFchLGnAWDP9FYlEHsey7FJ87qpUF3lwKDz1Xf9C8bk4Z4d3Q3zNv9rwdPnXE_exxWtWNVxPxUl9KalzeEDQ72Ayuh75CSx_X8yojxzzC8ZDPnEiRBJlPhG8/w640-h360/charlotte%20sea%20day%201.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pearly dawn on Man-o-War Bay, all photos by Pat Ganase<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The return to Charlotteville started in 2019. Anjani coming back from Australia as a marine ecologist. Bunty was looking for a place to relocate from
a Trinidad environment that was becoming hotter, drier and fire-prone with each
climate-challenged year. Each time, it’s like returning home. You know how
slowly home changes: you look for the same things in the same places; you notice
the people who remain and ask after those you do not see. Life is that simple.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Our recent visit was an escape from the Carnival, the heat
and frenzy of annual rituals of mas and music and <i>le diametre</i>. Carnival
is early in 2024: Ash Wednesday is Valentine’s Day. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The day before we travel comes news of oil leaking from an
overturned barge off Cove Estate, fouling the beaches at Rockley Bay and
whorling with the currents into the Caribbean Basin. It’s a few days before
actions to identify, curb or clean up are taken. By then, we are ensconced in
our cottage at Charlotteville, anxiously checking the news of the south coast.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><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/AVvXsEgiFHyPXzcsb94fVVjq-wBEE5LjoXjeSfonV6QgfzwL9OLJJfCgD_zo57EhmixLW20ShOwPzSDBnrwTYLg4XEVvkAS8311re6CXrAx5_1Bme7OVaQuLc4yPteyjdfkS-drpOt-umbctWuWlLg3lO-3wKqAUG_2qi9pcyxcNkYbP6seb_cDhLK1_Jy0jD5c/s3840/charlotte%20our%20gap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3840" data-original-width="2160" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiFHyPXzcsb94fVVjq-wBEE5LjoXjeSfonV6QgfzwL9OLJJfCgD_zo57EhmixLW20ShOwPzSDBnrwTYLg4XEVvkAS8311re6CXrAx5_1Bme7OVaQuLc4yPteyjdfkS-drpOt-umbctWuWlLg3lO-3wKqAUG_2qi9pcyxcNkYbP6seb_cDhLK1_Jy0jD5c/w360-h640/charlotte%20our%20gap.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gap to the sea at cottage #5<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim_i3EUuar4ixOvMlbD89WlIXQEvBo_scLsR992EuyeM8fdEptHyZq9eAkOCzgIe2woPHHXDtmsQGfDZWm-JuHHKjtZ2mzWPgu4tU3CPJvwGMVgoKoCN6TYFuJtLMjX7APOAm-boerS5pAG9Zr_38FFqj0zqXurtvuKdNEikGIHAsPlbFmRWVvxwm2Fw4/s4032/charlotte%20rory%20on%20shore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim_i3EUuar4ixOvMlbD89WlIXQEvBo_scLsR992EuyeM8fdEptHyZq9eAkOCzgIe2woPHHXDtmsQGfDZWm-JuHHKjtZ2mzWPgu4tU3CPJvwGMVgoKoCN6TYFuJtLMjX7APOAm-boerS5pAG9Zr_38FFqj0zqXurtvuKdNEikGIHAsPlbFmRWVvxwm2Fw4/w300-h400/charlotte%20rory%20on%20shore.jpg" width="300" /></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/AVvXsEiCgMaKbL841FN57YDI9zjY0DzxrscGOCZ8J95V7eAIG8k8E7CsmtjJ_Tyf6Xm6eJtPeqiYf0fQ6jtYPrZLrV7qZg0V777e-0p4Ahw_0OShyphenhyphenI2bQKosdl4G0Wk6dsl3UqHjxWyTNWgBSgwA-EEnRzGJAYU8xMO4WN7_9dGrUzvvYXf_ktGlD6QnTWgCZP8/s3475/charlotte%20rory%20and%20bunty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3475" data-original-width="3023" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCgMaKbL841FN57YDI9zjY0DzxrscGOCZ8J95V7eAIG8k8E7CsmtjJ_Tyf6Xm6eJtPeqiYf0fQ6jtYPrZLrV7qZg0V777e-0p4Ahw_0OShyphenhyphenI2bQKosdl4G0Wk6dsl3UqHjxWyTNWgBSgwA-EEnRzGJAYU8xMO4WN7_9dGrUzvvYXf_ktGlD6QnTWgCZP8/w348-h400/charlotte%20rory%20and%20bunty.jpg" width="348" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watching the tide roll in<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Man-o-War Bay is as we remembered. Cool green, calm, small
waves curling at the edges. The bay is a wide natural deepwater crescent,
extending from Hermitage to the point beyond Pirates. Booby Island sits off
Campbleton, that lookout that became a fort with the addition of cannons
dredged from the bay by Charles Turpin. The beach that runs from the pier to
lower Campbleton is a sandy lip dropping into the bowl of the bay. Here is a sea that
cradles, rocks, shushes and soothes.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We arrive in velvet dusk, that hour that stills the
creatures and wakens the hunger for tea and comfort. A flight of oropendolas
drifts in, squawks and skirls as the birds settle in for slumber. I clap and
they rise out of the palms squalling circling and dropping again. On other
evenings, a Trinidad Motmot hangs on the tree with pink pea blossoms. He eyes
us until Barbie tosses a piece of cheese. He’s still wary but deigns to
descend. He burrows in the dirt, sand-bathing or digging for insects. In the
dim light, he’s an olive colour, plump and imperious with the telltale eye and
tail of the motmot. Their call, we are told, is a hoot that might be mistaken
for an owl’s. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the morning, the birds tell the hours: cockricos are
early alarms. The oropendolas have already left in a swoosh. The hour of the
parrot is full sun up. No fishermen are casting nets; no seines are pulled. Still the pelicans are about. <br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Dawn comes late to a north facing beach in February. But the
sun flares bright. The pale green sea, as the morning brightens, changes to reflect
the colour of the sky and surrounding forested hills. Sit on the beach and you
are entertained by the drama of wind, wave, cloud and chop. Magnificent Frigatebirds wheel and dip at the sea surface. Two days later, the
weather remains clear, the wind picks up and a hazardous seas warning is
issued; long period swells gallop from the north. We hear that a winter storm
called Lorraine is brewing in New York City (cue Explainer 1982). Green waves
curl and break carrying the sea to the cottage and redistributing sand over the
river mouth and under the sea grapes. We stay out of the water for two days. We
pass the time looking at ships coming in.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><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/AVvXsEiI6r3gaM9M-7l3VMRb3O9oIomMv-QM8OarorJRCmsMTqgySCqe7XM12xti6_n4CfLA7nToctI1XTA9SZIttYjhEEqfM2CepvojIJyZOSTWjQb13cbvdcgitTq-f0WAFFPOLvTgpRfY1rNrelLXorDNWMYQ_v_E0SVAA2vINgGShT_CSfDGtu043Ml96ik/s3840/charlotte%20sea%20swells.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2160" data-original-width="3840" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI6r3gaM9M-7l3VMRb3O9oIomMv-QM8OarorJRCmsMTqgySCqe7XM12xti6_n4CfLA7nToctI1XTA9SZIttYjhEEqfM2CepvojIJyZOSTWjQb13cbvdcgitTq-f0WAFFPOLvTgpRfY1rNrelLXorDNWMYQ_v_E0SVAA2vINgGShT_CSfDGtu043Ml96ik/w640-h360/charlotte%20sea%20swells.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Surf crashes over the lip of Man-o-War Bay<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The sleek mega-yacht Triumph glides in. There’s no obvious
crew. The glassed portholes are heavily tinted. One side at sea level opens for
a service boat to exit and re-enter. We scoff at the lives of the wealthy as we
count our riches in friendship and experience.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">One afternoon, Rory spots a three-masted broad-bottomed ship
sliding into Man-o-War Bay. It’s an old British merchant navy vessel. We meet
its crew in the village shop: Filomen, the captain, is French. Karl is Swedish.
Isabelle is from Spain. Their ship is a facsimile of the early British vessel,
named Greyhound. They sailed her to Tobago from Cabo Verde via Barbados; and
were picking up guests to travel with them up the island chain to Saint Lucia.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> <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/AVvXsEhOnn6AgYyGjrcYH1l9Z-QmbPl11cI7bw6Yvk32FcoAri4kiu4x74SMwBI8Bz1iaP1p_919OJaEf0VoCasoBin0la3O5hHsUFwJlJomFBZXBCSyE7A_eXEJeJtbjU2gDExZsVcAOU5dnaRshA5MJIwN-jcwYf7K_XHetMeqDJv-FphDzDCPhnuUn6m_xbk/s4032/charlotte%20triumph.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOnn6AgYyGjrcYH1l9Z-QmbPl11cI7bw6Yvk32FcoAri4kiu4x74SMwBI8Bz1iaP1p_919OJaEf0VoCasoBin0la3O5hHsUFwJlJomFBZXBCSyE7A_eXEJeJtbjU2gDExZsVcAOU5dnaRshA5MJIwN-jcwYf7K_XHetMeqDJv-FphDzDCPhnuUn6m_xbk/w400-h300/charlotte%20triumph.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mega yacht Triumph<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/AVvXsEiMNFcmenBk19qCYn4ANcqnUPHstrlJPBKG1QfRyIEWsmlt6L7lNxMv3o8gUI_xGPX-qgzpPZxMHi2BNkvTldk5N__ILLaR0TRx7wF7rF8yOkcK-Z4t0C9wmKaQsNqD4mCXJ_lrD3c7jqHHcP849l8ps-gaemhnfDXfZfJ8Mx6ggcjGe-9mgwDub1zw8_g/s2875/charlotte%20greyhound%20leaves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2181" data-original-width="2875" height="486" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMNFcmenBk19qCYn4ANcqnUPHstrlJPBKG1QfRyIEWsmlt6L7lNxMv3o8gUI_xGPX-qgzpPZxMHi2BNkvTldk5N__ILLaR0TRx7wF7rF8yOkcK-Z4t0C9wmKaQsNqD4mCXJ_lrD3c7jqHHcP849l8ps-gaemhnfDXfZfJ8Mx6ggcjGe-9mgwDub1zw8_g/w640-h486/charlotte%20greyhound%20leaves.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Greyhound in Man-o-War Bay<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/AVvXsEg4QxMl7mxMEyOPifJbEOOcyfdcB8ZFiIvl_DBcrwwskoqnY6an7777gha5BVM9OrPZrO1voljvyEEQKWEnwsSnADfOYtdvmNlqFlvyeLub7iv7lNDWwd4DNy2gpNmJkTRDCsj0xfRWkoCxZd7sqCjlDtllqmNmNXFEPXMZyrF3Zfgty2vdwAlY2NYSFoY/s4032/charlotte%20greyhound%20crew.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4QxMl7mxMEyOPifJbEOOcyfdcB8ZFiIvl_DBcrwwskoqnY6an7777gha5BVM9OrPZrO1voljvyEEQKWEnwsSnADfOYtdvmNlqFlvyeLub7iv7lNDWwd4DNy2gpNmJkTRDCsj0xfRWkoCxZd7sqCjlDtllqmNmNXFEPXMZyrF3Zfgty2vdwAlY2NYSFoY/w640-h480/charlotte%20greyhound%20crew.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crew of the Greyhound: Filomen, Isabelle and Karl<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the village, we visit the red shop for necessary extras,
beers, sodas, rum. Priya is in her vegetable stall every day and we get the
best blue dasheen, sweet potato and plantain. We are re-acquainted with Nariba,
for corned fish buljol.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> <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/AVvXsEhPv5O88Bwvm5tbnyM6U_6nAUcl09LgkP4vbM3tR3-fy5O6QqA_iTBQDYuRXRrAcvrQ4dnwiBeccXAtCVTOTGlBMNjSeNyt4htHwdUNCcrYegT4ZEWuSfT9BNK-7QrLOLfJDVb3sY6DhN3eHpQwVUHDEH3PePMpE7JRpOnwQoAoWK1lVvuZRnK7WIkfvUI/s4032/charlotte%20rambo%20with%20fish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPv5O88Bwvm5tbnyM6U_6nAUcl09LgkP4vbM3tR3-fy5O6QqA_iTBQDYuRXRrAcvrQ4dnwiBeccXAtCVTOTGlBMNjSeNyt4htHwdUNCcrYegT4ZEWuSfT9BNK-7QrLOLfJDVb3sY6DhN3eHpQwVUHDEH3PePMpE7JRpOnwQoAoWK1lVvuZRnK7WIkfvUI/w300-h400/charlotte%20rambo%20with%20fish.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rambo with his catch<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/AVvXsEjaUnTSlhuB_Ml3l6Shy_0HhJbGrMMdc-NyQkd3niJYxWquiGyUsKQ93xIjN0AH-Xv24Kw1Ot4DcHFVuxmDU2fJkcpPSnG5kMt39kKEFfUpqnl-raOiWwP_3u0NR2Xe8yuM5s-1SIuD9Kimeavk1Q3Yb7S4lW7JVbbNl7P-b9NAVUVIu7WhlSwmsdHUPfQ/s4032/charlotte%20nariba.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUnTSlhuB_Ml3l6Shy_0HhJbGrMMdc-NyQkd3niJYxWquiGyUsKQ93xIjN0AH-Xv24Kw1Ot4DcHFVuxmDU2fJkcpPSnG5kMt39kKEFfUpqnl-raOiWwP_3u0NR2Xe8yuM5s-1SIuD9Kimeavk1Q3Yb7S4lW7JVbbNl7P-b9NAVUVIu7WhlSwmsdHUPfQ/w300-h400/charlotte%20nariba.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nariba makes buljol with corned fish<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/AVvXsEgpTTItX5plQ_-H2Q1koZH3OHid83cjgEAgfjhR7JXNgfeXxmRX0GC3I2ROorPOnT1Md8nljeuiDmaN6tL-h56g2O8cxkdF0YjXl65ixpEzBcdfJ4-83nEkyXTjHM0GBa8mdY9g1w22_DZB0ihpiRM6XgR0QU_Wbn_RHjBy19CD7EjHbORwg4nVtj-c14o/s4032/charlotte%20fish%20broff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpTTItX5plQ_-H2Q1koZH3OHid83cjgEAgfjhR7JXNgfeXxmRX0GC3I2ROorPOnT1Md8nljeuiDmaN6tL-h56g2O8cxkdF0YjXl65ixpEzBcdfJ4-83nEkyXTjHM0GBa8mdY9g1w22_DZB0ihpiRM6XgR0QU_Wbn_RHjBy19CD7EjHbORwg4nVtj-c14o/w300-h400/charlotte%20fish%20broff.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fish broth bubbling<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Breadfruit falls – braap! - from the tree behind the cottages,
and it’s sweet and full when fried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
first fish is a kingfish pan grilled by Rory; its bony bits go into a broff. We
had picked up some crunchy Cove grown Romaine lettuce and arugula, and Juliette’s
sourdough, on our way to Charlotteville. We had Delmano weisswurst for supper
one night. Pumpkin choka and fried ochro with flatbread (aka sada) for breakfast.
The piece de resistance was Barbie’s slow-roasted lamb for Bunty’s birthday. Bits
and bobs made many a meal and all were delicious. We ate well and slept hard.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Time to return to Trinidad, more news of the leaking barge,
the politics of oil and gas, and the harsh hot weather that March usually
brings. Phill drives along Tobago’s west coast to the airport, a relaxed departure
– the return already on our minds – from a home of the heart.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> <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/AVvXsEgPGorA_Yw674lT7oTQyh414mc5TOuiDzt6_BdF7ueYDqTjbIQVAguWQjF7969gXC5M9AEWI4LgmXpFxVyAaAYnVgQPznihyBxVO37fAiwwXFdSg4WpS-u49kk6Gso88Wekxgbi3ryt5sVMx2AavoFK9G6wOev0MPSKDtUVyUwaAU9-OeeXJl1jiKO1vtQ/s4032/charlotte%20pink%20pea%20tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPGorA_Yw674lT7oTQyh414mc5TOuiDzt6_BdF7ueYDqTjbIQVAguWQjF7969gXC5M9AEWI4LgmXpFxVyAaAYnVgQPznihyBxVO37fAiwwXFdSg4WpS-u49kk6Gso88Wekxgbi3ryt5sVMx2AavoFK9G6wOev0MPSKDtUVyUwaAU9-OeeXJl1jiKO1vtQ/w400-h300/charlotte%20pink%20pea%20tree.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The flowering tree that the Motmot loves!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> <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/AVvXsEg_pWum1heFsPbtwYkuA25b6_-5dRBllDmuF3u4HKuR9KALySKm2UsYxEc1JVvagwI4t7vNfZNLAvGlTnV-CmvCFOGM46OfZRxS3S85hvA4io_6FQwCnvXkGME0D5dll7w9edyhypN7CsIJtl1cRS8uBzV58IisIKlp4kJXOb8pRZdqKwscutzCnXqJsUU/s4032/charlotte%20wood%20dragon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_pWum1heFsPbtwYkuA25b6_-5dRBllDmuF3u4HKuR9KALySKm2UsYxEc1JVvagwI4t7vNfZNLAvGlTnV-CmvCFOGM46OfZRxS3S85hvA4io_6FQwCnvXkGME0D5dll7w9edyhypN7CsIJtl1cRS8uBzV58IisIKlp4kJXOb8pRZdqKwscutzCnXqJsUU/w640-h480/charlotte%20wood%20dragon.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">May the year of the wood dragon bring good fortune to everyone, rats and rabbits included. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p><style>@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-58449159550041273722024-01-19T18:25:00.000-04:002024-01-19T18:25:59.893-04:00Sox Adventures<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">Sox the Akita has passed on to the Great Green Park in the
Sky. He lived from January 2011 to January 12, 2024. How to celebrate the passing of a
dog that lived to 13 years in the best way, how to write about the full fluffy
always-a-puppy hefty bear-dog called Sox? </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFF_7zu7hWjGIvcKb4nvm3Yxo5U5KiYF7BTdjTv_9wIwVHfU946WFiaGeHs-s5tiRnFlVD0SFKJ7IPypV-7p7rjYS1JBz2TZYbvizFSO7_mIycHQNgWu89YPucRE0U_jldBQNAyDq2zA4ppQPfRoXFyNPhtPPip6FyaGtI-IWve-WowpfOywuaWIYZPV8/s640/sox%20ranji%20maracas%20%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFF_7zu7hWjGIvcKb4nvm3Yxo5U5KiYF7BTdjTv_9wIwVHfU946WFiaGeHs-s5tiRnFlVD0SFKJ7IPypV-7p7rjYS1JBz2TZYbvizFSO7_mIycHQNgWu89YPucRE0U_jldBQNAyDq2zA4ppQPfRoXFyNPhtPPip6FyaGtI-IWve-WowpfOywuaWIYZPV8/w640-h480/sox%20ranji%20maracas%20%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">He came to us in April 2011, the year I was retiring from
working in the outside world, in the corporate world, in the world removed from
the house on the hill, for other people.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">He immediately became Ranji’s, who liked to tell how he
first saw a raggedy furry lump under a t-shirt. But that would not have been
possible. At 12 weeks, he was more than a handful and not easily hidden. The
morning he was brought to me bathed and towelled, there was no way for him to
fit in the puppy box. He was set down at my feet and left staring at
me staring at him.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3-hxhphHQHdPoRpSC0KsV1dF-GMYPg2ExLmwY7-LyaxwQK27pNwoboBuTdHRp6J1eBolFXPoqDBFoyLBxaJxK-vVmRI4UAf8rnXhpbXNwbAOybcjd45EyvSfI-PeceEM9C1e0MW02EKaTSObowanXGbgX7EBuIKV3WoBAXA21YjaRxYWUV-4uLNyH82g/s2048/sleeping%20pup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1231" data-original-width="2048" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3-hxhphHQHdPoRpSC0KsV1dF-GMYPg2ExLmwY7-LyaxwQK27pNwoboBuTdHRp6J1eBolFXPoqDBFoyLBxaJxK-vVmRI4UAf8rnXhpbXNwbAOybcjd45EyvSfI-PeceEM9C1e0MW02EKaTSObowanXGbgX7EBuIKV3WoBAXA21YjaRxYWUV-4uLNyH82g/s320/sleeping%20pup.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6tTHtrrheeDPSzYyLuRBqtfcMCI5IXVP1igJZCaxui-yugi4P6hxpR63tn_MKncgtqy8XLmLa0Xd_bVGLQhF-RtllGte9vkBAWk5CINZtoSe6QfWQB-MTfgMB2f3tVFPEUg5CLdZ8-iRcbX-OPdC2QPXsDLVBZMWnybh3HP4bO_FEj23YSB_8X-oOqK0/s2048/yard%20walks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1164" data-original-width="2048" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6tTHtrrheeDPSzYyLuRBqtfcMCI5IXVP1igJZCaxui-yugi4P6hxpR63tn_MKncgtqy8XLmLa0Xd_bVGLQhF-RtllGte9vkBAWk5CINZtoSe6QfWQB-MTfgMB2f3tVFPEUg5CLdZ8-iRcbX-OPdC2QPXsDLVBZMWnybh3HP4bO_FEj23YSB_8X-oOqK0/w640-h365/yard%20walks.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">Max and Oka and Yoda were outside dogs. The puppy would stay
in the kitchen porch, so we thought. The next morning, he was nowhere to be
found. His fluff hid a body skinny enough to slip through the railings to join
the other sleeping dogs.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">Over the first months, he grew fast. And within the year, he
was taking us on his walks. We would walk towards the main gate, and stand
under the sighing bamboos beside the empty lot to look at the cars passing. We
could do that for a long time before heading back to the hill. If we had the
time, we might stop in the park and sit for a while. Two spaniels would slip
through the fence of the corner house to romp with Sox.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLuOEaSi9W2Qd7GMnMau6gIKLd4KA2o70j6blMUjxJFggGJNPJfMak8L5nOpF_xQ0yQ2ZkN4lcRxH02Z6QBh1QLpzwiJh-Tm2R8Y9XyvchYFi3YqeXWOWW46ylh-WmGQ1PcSS2z_FP2e3F9406nW8jze7ZVt_eMS9mDfRmK4-FksAP5vk7M7bDJEqsgzU/s640/walkies%20orion%20leah%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLuOEaSi9W2Qd7GMnMau6gIKLd4KA2o70j6blMUjxJFggGJNPJfMak8L5nOpF_xQ0yQ2ZkN4lcRxH02Z6QBh1QLpzwiJh-Tm2R8Y9XyvchYFi3YqeXWOWW46ylh-WmGQ1PcSS2z_FP2e3F9406nW8jze7ZVt_eMS9mDfRmK4-FksAP5vk7M7bDJEqsgzU/s320/walkies%20orion%20leah%20-%201.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5cMSls0Tf0H93OscbG5xspRX3WcVoo0FzIV8Wpy9lB621eQMaZQgow1sMWqdqCC7QrM-GJeDCFa_NcWnLxuLv3vfNje2jJ8D8p5WwMukjyhcUPCsKvjvEwiIy2ymgmxq_M1iBguQdWN_YGRXKeeu9-Kt-uhNbO9FSr7JBx6h4-NnfaXxt3W8xXmFa6NM/s2048/park%20playmates.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1599" data-original-width="2048" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5cMSls0Tf0H93OscbG5xspRX3WcVoo0FzIV8Wpy9lB621eQMaZQgow1sMWqdqCC7QrM-GJeDCFa_NcWnLxuLv3vfNje2jJ8D8p5WwMukjyhcUPCsKvjvEwiIy2ymgmxq_M1iBguQdWN_YGRXKeeu9-Kt-uhNbO9FSr7JBx6h4-NnfaXxt3W8xXmFa6NM/s320/park%20playmates.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/AVvXsEgBd90-gRXGjAPhA7s_RZ1G5nr9sxuiD8M_eGfNAQ1zwqTvTT0LDRQ2SMXjLkbKKu0dkPsrpOiDAO9tz3to6sk24AQMk7_d_KNlw8FEFGXc_RbA10FCAm5Ni5z0XI0emNtdqn-nhN9t3ADKcD31TPg9AP_w0BxrVk56cqhXIP0FaEWIOeA8bYpdHQZG1Hs/s640/sox%20and%20pat%202012%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" 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/AVvXsEgBd90-gRXGjAPhA7s_RZ1G5nr9sxuiD8M_eGfNAQ1zwqTvTT0LDRQ2SMXjLkbKKu0dkPsrpOiDAO9tz3to6sk24AQMk7_d_KNlw8FEFGXc_RbA10FCAm5Ni5z0XI0emNtdqn-nhN9t3ADKcD31TPg9AP_w0BxrVk56cqhXIP0FaEWIOeA8bYpdHQZG1Hs/s320/sox%20and%20pat%202012%20-%201.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">It was on one of these early morning walks that he was
leading me and Ranji still in his pajamas towards the front gate. Arrayed in
front of us came a pack of dogs. They had followed the gardeners into the Grove
and Sox’s instinct was to run at them. While Ranji berated the gardeners and chased
their dogs, I turned with Sox and was running back up the hill. Sox slipped his leash, I fell and
passed out. Sox came back, was put in the house. The rest was related to me
after I came to, briefly at Mt Hope hospital and eventually at St Clair Medical
Centre after dark. I was concussed, had a lump on a bruised head, and probably
had a clot. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">The parts that I missed went from Brian Ghent and Ranji
bundling dead-weight me into Brian’s car and racing to the health centre where
they were told they couldn’t deal with that, take me to the Mt Hope Hospital
where I lay on a gurney for hours before Ranji was told that the CT scanner was
not working by which time Orion called and was told; he called Dr White on his
vacation in California who said to take me to St Clair where I arrived by
ambulance with my sister. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">Sox stopped walking with me for a while. My niece sent a
prong collar from the States, so there would be a better response when we had
to stop him suddenly. The fur around his neck was so thick, we wondered if he
even felt the prongs. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: 12pt;">When we resumed walking, people would still stop
and ask, “what you call that dog?” I realised it was a question about his
breed, not his name. He’s an Akita, born in Trinidad. They would pull out their
phones to take photos. Kids wanted to run up and cuddle him. No, we warned them,
stay back. One day without warning, a band of children ran up to Sox. It did not end well, her arm encountered his mouth, there was blood and wailing. The wound healed and children stayed far. And on our walks, there were many who would call out to "Sox!" before they greeted who might be walking with him.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><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/AVvXsEiGJdt4WfRgCxwE5nSRMbU3uZi7ddnEg_Ojp5P1NNoFu3Fnn6v9-_kJHx00UV4xJMX2F-9rdn50I3Wkvn42rmE9-HmxGKw4k6SV14XUKTsPaKvGrY5UhJdmdoNaxIl39-os9EuRRPD1js_dycd9mTPYsKzS2QKZDVN8TjzCAJdum6IiMGGbQajBPmYcsqU/s2048/teddy%20bear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1550" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJdt4WfRgCxwE5nSRMbU3uZi7ddnEg_Ojp5P1NNoFu3Fnn6v9-_kJHx00UV4xJMX2F-9rdn50I3Wkvn42rmE9-HmxGKw4k6SV14XUKTsPaKvGrY5UhJdmdoNaxIl39-os9EuRRPD1js_dycd9mTPYsKzS2QKZDVN8TjzCAJdum6IiMGGbQajBPmYcsqU/w484-h640/teddy%20bear.jpg" width="484" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just a big teddy bear<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: times; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: 12pt;"> More Adventures of Sox to come....<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><br />
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-7932904305315760362024-01-01T13:18:00.000-04:002024-01-01T13:18:08.702-04:00A Year in Cake<p> How many people have the opportunity to mark the special occasions over a year, in cake? Cocobel chocolate cake no less!</p><p> The moist and flavourful crumb is enhanced with creamy fillings and sealed with chocolate then decorated with the artistry of the chocolatier.</p><p> What's not to love about a Cocobel cake. Here are a few that we enjoyed the last year.</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/AVvXsEgafH1XU8j8blWmtqy_NAD-4ixDMafLlmSqncfKVcYBrlRGbYA6oUH6lnqnwnznbshJKHq5xQ6h7fmIYc3EAsanx_qiVViNIE-3oOS3TeRugzvT3dI8AB8RRMsLrm-Ghc2I_RPqlxtKuuAPS-Pq71nmH41gnnEYSKBwOlLo6f83CreDN3QFlQWFp58hQRc/s4032/cake%20christmas%20sorrel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgafH1XU8j8blWmtqy_NAD-4ixDMafLlmSqncfKVcYBrlRGbYA6oUH6lnqnwnznbshJKHq5xQ6h7fmIYc3EAsanx_qiVViNIE-3oOS3TeRugzvT3dI8AB8RRMsLrm-Ghc2I_RPqlxtKuuAPS-Pq71nmH41gnnEYSKBwOlLo6f83CreDN3QFlQWFp58hQRc/w640-h480/cake%20christmas%20sorrel.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The last shall be first: Cocobel Christmas sorrel (black forest) cake: chocolate layers oozing with rummy sorrel preserves. Of course, you'll want to nibble on the little logs and floral petals first.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDXOIm4dMNSVcF0ajnsNenYGhJGjFmjlZxXD7eR1q4dT0KkhG8Bde4p9YL6zLa3pgBmobPFuIhyxhAqrI8K48OJVhzZ2jj-9B_LvIlYuy8wH9BAwIQ-U0luXY0ZtVPMSa-qRf-V_1ZXXT3SnYp36iDMI-n4JTqUg4sKW07WKDgMfaLW9Lvb308dvD4S4/s2497/cake%20yule%20log.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2497" data-original-width="2233" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDXOIm4dMNSVcF0ajnsNenYGhJGjFmjlZxXD7eR1q4dT0KkhG8Bde4p9YL6zLa3pgBmobPFuIhyxhAqrI8K48OJVhzZ2jj-9B_LvIlYuy8wH9BAwIQ-U0luXY0ZtVPMSa-qRf-V_1ZXXT3SnYp36iDMI-n4JTqUg4sKW07WKDgMfaLW9Lvb308dvD4S4/w572-h640/cake%20yule%20log.jpg" width="572" /></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/AVvXsEhfnjYaOjdnGXUMYnPKhSz4abNg84jHMtaSEwjGtDOENrV1GVXnzWJUMPxMeRQq4lc0vbJJNo04uBivBARj-MK-F__b1irtrqcMGWMoSLwFxHB435EmmnMNnl35IjLjFCaIIDJmYZLvhMX2I4KPH6ftskaNPcMPviGJweEvmGBZZH9m3d7-R-4hbGxlwdc/s4032/cake%20yule%20log%20A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfnjYaOjdnGXUMYnPKhSz4abNg84jHMtaSEwjGtDOENrV1GVXnzWJUMPxMeRQq4lc0vbJJNo04uBivBARj-MK-F__b1irtrqcMGWMoSLwFxHB435EmmnMNnl35IjLjFCaIIDJmYZLvhMX2I4KPH6ftskaNPcMPviGJweEvmGBZZH9m3d7-R-4hbGxlwdc/w640-h480/cake%20yule%20log%20A.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Cocobel Yule Log, new in 2023: delicate flavours of cocoa tea in a light creamy centre of a log made of solid slivers of dark chocolate, decorated with meringue mushrooms. Perfect with a cup of tea.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><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/AVvXsEg6oPgeh6DTKINoOX7eezBFzUXQkK4LVGBdzz9KbCKuUebOaKsWS-at6xbm2YLxS3JgCjWE8cbPDlsBlndpDvbkfLRjmHvRhwPJV-Yii7F-Lv7ek_ReXbPsM1EKPIbwq6oYHezQXScuc3dvkmc2pfQaPWMF2tqWR8vUS-64HSpvKGwZTyKj3jaXHLe-TlQ/s2889/cake%20for%20pat%20A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2507" data-original-width="2889" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6oPgeh6DTKINoOX7eezBFzUXQkK4LVGBdzz9KbCKuUebOaKsWS-at6xbm2YLxS3JgCjWE8cbPDlsBlndpDvbkfLRjmHvRhwPJV-Yii7F-Lv7ek_ReXbPsM1EKPIbwq6oYHezQXScuc3dvkmc2pfQaPWMF2tqWR8vUS-64HSpvKGwZTyKj3jaXHLe-TlQ/w400-h348/cake%20for%20pat%20A.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birthday cake for a wildgirl: heliconias, anthuriums and sexy pinks surround this Cocobel cake.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKjOJmP9jRP8gcZhq0sI_4ZAlkUawhB2PpDNqubvIDQiFxk0Yl9Cqnl1tyWJ-DfprQ9Oi7NaXT2kdL2HopvNvKwFjXJV00JtTQGKpzUJT_eTc19EH2f1AAEjLY4K0k7doe1oln5OmjLKMLz-LxamcvhIcyKe4ygoPBppWWl_yQme_1ymZsieBeQ6AHrto/s4032/cake%20for%20pat%20B.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/AVvXsEjKjOJmP9jRP8gcZhq0sI_4ZAlkUawhB2PpDNqubvIDQiFxk0Yl9Cqnl1tyWJ-DfprQ9Oi7NaXT2kdL2HopvNvKwFjXJV00JtTQGKpzUJT_eTc19EH2f1AAEjLY4K0k7doe1oln5OmjLKMLz-LxamcvhIcyKe4ygoPBppWWl_yQme_1ymZsieBeQ6AHrto/s320/cake%20for%20pat%20B.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/AVvXsEj_6mPy_Jkfcib9QXlhlnoqUzn68rKw1WtW6lXJ-NOiBkSb8fgi15DZ5vQ8K7Bhw9nUBP9bvQCr-dYrT2FKDhncx10slqEtNTlTacGaiyCSlALgiC6AGxziq8Enl-quBQrIJ-xx0RdN019K3hwzFWSQTa7kZI1ExCjwWqwY6sJjaBkZYuEZSngvAT93Zpg/s2905/cake%20for%20pat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2797" data-original-width="2905" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_6mPy_Jkfcib9QXlhlnoqUzn68rKw1WtW6lXJ-NOiBkSb8fgi15DZ5vQ8K7Bhw9nUBP9bvQCr-dYrT2FKDhncx10slqEtNTlTacGaiyCSlALgiC6AGxziq8Enl-quBQrIJ-xx0RdN019K3hwzFWSQTa7kZI1ExCjwWqwY6sJjaBkZYuEZSngvAT93Zpg/w400-h385/cake%20for%20pat.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sexy pink heliconia on the side<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/AVvXsEjgeyHM5bYC5MQljFvjdc0el_saIO_4RpcJAq6Xix_I9TwZ5JTe_TaikSjEsQXSxiLqELHJp0YKCUPAoxNvC4l8oDiYlt1WWcIta0VRtM7EalYPOwgUrmnSarop0cYEU_lDh4FviX0eeOZKZ93WdnPuXH6aLX86fQOwzlTBOfVUXPpyhH28fG_oK97a2aQ/s3694/cake%202022%20anjani.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3694" data-original-width="2494" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgeyHM5bYC5MQljFvjdc0el_saIO_4RpcJAq6Xix_I9TwZ5JTe_TaikSjEsQXSxiLqELHJp0YKCUPAoxNvC4l8oDiYlt1WWcIta0VRtM7EalYPOwgUrmnSarop0cYEU_lDh4FviX0eeOZKZ93WdnPuXH6aLX86fQOwzlTBOfVUXPpyhH28fG_oK97a2aQ/w432-h640/cake%202022%20anjani.jpg" width="432" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2022 birthday cake for the marine scientist<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/AVvXsEheHx97TkFaYwP80lyLz6F7pYcJmv7oZu5KXE_9MNR4oAXDxgskAy0kJxCK8znDiqbKrztjo_5gOT2vW4CfEgXGgG8kl0CAFto4tK3yq4-0Wtuc5Shx1n4gyiToy9Rc4n5xGljYBWqWjAySwZ7UZE60Degkzf5IuRUTb9jrRER2NQxGF6DLq6DxktUD8Ao/s640/cake%20anjani%20A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="610" data-original-width="640" height="381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHx97TkFaYwP80lyLz6F7pYcJmv7oZu5KXE_9MNR4oAXDxgskAy0kJxCK8znDiqbKrztjo_5gOT2vW4CfEgXGgG8kl0CAFto4tK3yq4-0Wtuc5Shx1n4gyiToy9Rc4n5xGljYBWqWjAySwZ7UZE60Degkzf5IuRUTb9jrRER2NQxGF6DLq6DxktUD8Ao/w400-h381/cake%20anjani%20A.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2023 cake for the coral reef ecologist<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQscSH1NTlUDA-4JOyCYU36p7RdY9GdiqXdPJwBe9i9AcHgOl2G2s5ATlzTQH8_xFpOBA0Mlnxswv9y64-YvadOIAK066O9dHXFnoJyWA8qdFWcoVoEKueYmpqxwGIrn-ZwSNkVUmAsi3NdsIpuDV0panm-ED7S9S3HJZ_C_JDnvxcZgDoDJHeoRcSiuw/s640/cake%20anjani.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="578" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQscSH1NTlUDA-4JOyCYU36p7RdY9GdiqXdPJwBe9i9AcHgOl2G2s5ATlzTQH8_xFpOBA0Mlnxswv9y64-YvadOIAK066O9dHXFnoJyWA8qdFWcoVoEKueYmpqxwGIrn-ZwSNkVUmAsi3NdsIpuDV0panm-ED7S9S3HJZ_C_JDnvxcZgDoDJHeoRcSiuw/w361-h400/cake%20anjani.jpg" width="361" /></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/AVvXsEhh9YK43GdDh2z07cjwxwNkHF5ni23o3pPqmlpv2jb7hYEMlahDU5vCTZD7b1TTxamdQF3Vwv5m-COlk74-la39R4QvL3PYtKdJ3Udk7u5qzMV2RpeBYkbKGbxOHybAb-8ux1OEujEs-arh86fAeYWfQzljCeIoziUjCTTc_e58-SK0GicBrojpKxrWoFc/s3206/cake%20get%20well.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3206" data-original-width="2771" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh9YK43GdDh2z07cjwxwNkHF5ni23o3pPqmlpv2jb7hYEMlahDU5vCTZD7b1TTxamdQF3Vwv5m-COlk74-la39R4QvL3PYtKdJ3Udk7u5qzMV2RpeBYkbKGbxOHybAb-8ux1OEujEs-arh86fAeYWfQzljCeIoziUjCTTc_e58-SK0GicBrojpKxrWoFc/w554-h640/cake%20get%20well.jpg" width="554" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We are happy and grateful for these wonderful cakes by Cocobel: the chocolate artist </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br /></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/AVvXsEiT0hKn8cXOL4nyvhorOVER0bOnz32CaS9BI-0067krNgdhVN4xTthFb4k3im7tWbVnVf3wPfAvAWhXG9jm_k1qAgdg_S5UdWCxYCovLMbjX8Ph5WvTfpWBjnBGi1OVL6B4ojqlJ5S0QLMJdpLtNMxGU2Me6ICM_iqIC7_W-4YRgKz_zKHfpXEZUTfUDQg/s4032/cake%20max%20lolly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT0hKn8cXOL4nyvhorOVER0bOnz32CaS9BI-0067krNgdhVN4xTthFb4k3im7tWbVnVf3wPfAvAWhXG9jm_k1qAgdg_S5UdWCxYCovLMbjX8Ph5WvTfpWBjnBGi1OVL6B4ojqlJ5S0QLMJdpLtNMxGU2Me6ICM_iqIC7_W-4YRgKz_zKHfpXEZUTfUDQg/w480-h640/cake%20max%20lolly.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And a cocoa tea lolly for the boy who is growing up on dark chocolate!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-74919735697078526562023-12-25T09:48:00.000-04:002023-12-25T09:48:29.563-04:00Gift from Africa<p><span style="font-family: times;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikXMllHlYKiLW-KClskbMSL-JtONuE1PP5aZItDt3zeY6x7Upw-kcxNwqLekpYfxyjpoaofhCXDO7HFeG_661Q5JhGpCJnbgfmq4j04SPJ8pLQV33OR13G0v0qYs6rQJ5w4aSlk9GefZpUd4gUzq_W5roMA14qXfYzpFhUXKzOgGFo4g0cAdo5rQ6BQGY/s2016/christmas%20morning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikXMllHlYKiLW-KClskbMSL-JtONuE1PP5aZItDt3zeY6x7Upw-kcxNwqLekpYfxyjpoaofhCXDO7HFeG_661Q5JhGpCJnbgfmq4j04SPJ8pLQV33OR13G0v0qYs6rQJ5w4aSlk9GefZpUd4gUzq_W5roMA14qXfYzpFhUXKzOgGFo4g0cAdo5rQ6BQGY/w640-h480/christmas%20morning.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> <p></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">Sahara dust blots out the St Ann’s Hill.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">At night we cannot see the stars and only barely, the moon
which will be full on Boxing Day.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">Sahara dust settles rim to rim over our valley and the
grittiness gets in noses and toeses, in the corners of eyes, settling like
sleep on plants, people and pets.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">Sahara dust, do you wonder how it gets here across an ocean,
dust of another continent incontinent to hold its soil.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">Ten thousand years again, archaeologists and seekers may
find us encased in this layer of unlikely sparkly rock and think we travelled
here bringing the dust of a vast mother continent, the dust of our planet
encasing bones with trace elements of stars. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5oTWFQeZ9UvLS0UcGH7HFTlqCYbW57OuTdWHWJKvjePDiH0DH7IXl6Eidbxu-D967KQ-R_MNyVVIDJRCThrodLXHisCV90QbtcCV_wKif2YCsaKA2uVmGMHXw62RvPX4MGdusTElx_dGxUm6bcIDxIKYqNjosqmOe7qpksjWBhXM07Ic2dkQoxzJ0uLA/s2048/mister%20max.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5oTWFQeZ9UvLS0UcGH7HFTlqCYbW57OuTdWHWJKvjePDiH0DH7IXl6Eidbxu-D967KQ-R_MNyVVIDJRCThrodLXHisCV90QbtcCV_wKif2YCsaKA2uVmGMHXw62RvPX4MGdusTElx_dGxUm6bcIDxIKYqNjosqmOe7qpksjWBhXM07Ic2dkQoxzJ0uLA/w480-h640/mister%20max.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-61878752213352588332023-10-12T13:03:00.002-04:002023-10-12T15:17:40.397-04:00Children of Yvonne and Cecil<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Our parents did the best with what they were given: my
father a shrewd sense of enterprise, a risk-taker; my mother her nurturing ability,
her loyalty. They both had fine-tuned the skills of making do. When Daddy acquired
his seven acres in Santa Cruz, he moved the family (already three girls and a
boy) out of the shop and created the farm. Jimmy was born when we were on the
farm.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </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/AVvXsEjDQJEtqHrm4fdf5N6SNeK63u8IN4IizlUHDno2nbDwXOxdquj6wiJCtWl3sxRG5UPnw4EjhnN9sbcnWqdzKPTGAZgNBszZuxYpxnDdbTu_Kv3u7J574VzCJvMgBQm_lnXVtfvxoxMEwzse9pHx-u09IzpUW98g94Rw_8A64h5qfUTZ556wg2K_9Neu1AE/s640/margaret%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="463" data-original-width="640" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDQJEtqHrm4fdf5N6SNeK63u8IN4IizlUHDno2nbDwXOxdquj6wiJCtWl3sxRG5UPnw4EjhnN9sbcnWqdzKPTGAZgNBszZuxYpxnDdbTu_Kv3u7J574VzCJvMgBQm_lnXVtfvxoxMEwzse9pHx-u09IzpUW98g94Rw_8A64h5qfUTZ556wg2K_9Neu1AE/w640-h464/margaret%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2023 siblings<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></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/AVvXsEhw7zhNtiYueo7C8CFiHoEae-sXSAMcYCIJrsYYzlI6yKJyznL4G-M-9FJbezPoOTfeokCvRYTFPFcviPOoN1H0hoyQkRY4inuIxpdNVEmgTlOnjEc5z1nlw_1S27yvS5LVmAeCceXb69VVCnZzDehyjCixwwNGqVNro2y3qAahfitPTpziAC-82XaN1GM/s640/family%20sibs%201995%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="491" data-original-width="640" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw7zhNtiYueo7C8CFiHoEae-sXSAMcYCIJrsYYzlI6yKJyznL4G-M-9FJbezPoOTfeokCvRYTFPFcviPOoN1H0hoyQkRY4inuIxpdNVEmgTlOnjEc5z1nlw_1S27yvS5LVmAeCceXb69VVCnZzDehyjCixwwNGqVNro2y3qAahfitPTpziAC-82XaN1GM/w400-h308/family%20sibs%201995%20-%201.jpeg" width="400" /> </a></td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1995 Miami</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"> </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/AVvXsEjnIqP9uPPi28lpeqNn9LpY1JuY9OuVtn3tf3psjfQls334PKNTL4-NfvXLWv98iWrvPyh3on374OVTwevrpp9oXC_3yEdvU8XlmLPJwRH9FKOF4sdfSeF9o1xJ9qcDUORy28soT_SmAgkTOQHRb31bXFSPy-OHhzu75zAJDEcnWBawtSCSnC2s8SXO9D4/s3185/cecil%20yvonne%20and%20grandkids%201995.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2046" data-original-width="3185" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnIqP9uPPi28lpeqNn9LpY1JuY9OuVtn3tf3psjfQls334PKNTL4-NfvXLWv98iWrvPyh3on374OVTwevrpp9oXC_3yEdvU8XlmLPJwRH9FKOF4sdfSeF9o1xJ9qcDUORy28soT_SmAgkTOQHRb31bXFSPy-OHhzu75zAJDEcnWBawtSCSnC2s8SXO9D4/w640-h412/cecil%20yvonne%20and%20grandkids%201995.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1995 with grandchildren<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></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/AVvXsEjKDhXKanA6cikK5FBiRqfmIFmFTHlR1xEmX2LgthOanoJwzys8af3ayDQDzDToW86Z3pUDJx-FIo1L44DJLgtbSgNr5twOk0yHrE7Xyr1fvrH2edW9As48MfvUVwm8UqHAD2hIAl7tGU4Ey_-kcn4k07kDuFN9Fo490VQx0x-TLyQRdWst28HxV3NcLKg/s640/family%20sibs%201966%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="511" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKDhXKanA6cikK5FBiRqfmIFmFTHlR1xEmX2LgthOanoJwzys8af3ayDQDzDToW86Z3pUDJx-FIo1L44DJLgtbSgNr5twOk0yHrE7Xyr1fvrH2edW9As48MfvUVwm8UqHAD2hIAl7tGU4Ey_-kcn4k07kDuFN9Fo490VQx0x-TLyQRdWst28HxV3NcLKg/w512-h640/family%20sibs%201966%20-%201.jpeg" width="512" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1966 Santa Cruz (photo by a friend of Uncle Sandy seen here)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />The seven acres came with rows of oranges and other fruits. Sometimes
it rained pommeracs or rose mangoes. Zabocas were heavy and buttery, so many we
sold to the supermarket. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Breadfruit and
guavas, chataigne, tamarind and governor plum (known as rolling cherry) came in
their seasons. On our little farm, Daddy saw the abundance of fruit that he
remembered in China and he went out to multiply that possibility. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Orange trees had to be cleared for the chicken
pens, but Graham and Julie mangoes were added. Earthy topi tambo was something
we loved and soon there were rows down by the river. Corn came in, boiled in a
pitchoil tin on an open fire, with broadleaf thyme and pigtail on top. It was
the same with the livestock. Chickens, broilers and layers, then for a little
while he tried breeders for hatching eggs; ducks, guinea fowl, turkeys. Hefty
chocolate coloured pigs were imported. Then a small herd of goats presided over
by a bullish ram called Boy. The hatchery became the mainstay.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Mummy kept a small garden near the house for flowers. And I
will never forget the heady scent of tuberoses, of gardenias in the night and
sweet lime. She made bouquets for our teachers at the end of term. Whatever
seasoning we needed for the kitchen, we just went out and picked. Chadon beni
grew in the big lawn; thyme, pimentos and sweet peppers came up from her green
thumb.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The farm, we now realise, with all the challenges, the
24-hour tasks of rearing, caring and catering to customers, was an idyll and
prepared us all for bigger worlds, in our own families, in companies and in
other countries.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></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/AVvXsEgFaVsIK1-KHXW8gCLtBIWtaKRB1EK3MA0eZH6_ojERbKuRLvx5aCkffhG6JFf9h8WMj2JnznKW6Wn9m3sAHyX4MThcL5PM84_elUkRZOT963PdYc1uNaNmS1a0qwP-niH86ocCUIFBIFjAlUnz0sYFr7hf6ce-rVifYte1kBbne7DaFcDJ3RBFzoY-ZqQ/s640/family%20miami%201997%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="397" data-original-width="640" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFaVsIK1-KHXW8gCLtBIWtaKRB1EK3MA0eZH6_ojERbKuRLvx5aCkffhG6JFf9h8WMj2JnznKW6Wn9m3sAHyX4MThcL5PM84_elUkRZOT963PdYc1uNaNmS1a0qwP-niH86ocCUIFBIFjAlUnz0sYFr7hf6ce-rVifYte1kBbne7DaFcDJ3RBFzoY-ZqQ/s320/family%20miami%201997%20-%201.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1997</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/AVvXsEhYzpII1ZrMT1ejOjibN1PzTqTIQ5sCd5ke0sMoFjh6INcgmTvM_afzRZS1Qd1A9voXuO4XkHWmQav2Kok_EpllEVR6eL77_BLh_Iv1xVG8REe8T1lmIUb_hWGRGs_Da9OE6D_Egf9mCXKL6U2okiTJV9eTNLQ3UH7u983YAC_izZwSUoSI8xG67-WAblk/s640/family%20miami%201997%20B%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="264" data-original-width="640" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYzpII1ZrMT1ejOjibN1PzTqTIQ5sCd5ke0sMoFjh6INcgmTvM_afzRZS1Qd1A9voXuO4XkHWmQav2Kok_EpllEVR6eL77_BLh_Iv1xVG8REe8T1lmIUb_hWGRGs_Da9OE6D_Egf9mCXKL6U2okiTJV9eTNLQ3UH7u983YAC_izZwSUoSI8xG67-WAblk/w640-h264/family%20miami%201997%20B%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1997 November, Mom's birthday<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When the time came, we scattered like birds to far lands.
Helen and I were the first to go: I to Virginia on scholarship at Hollins
College, one of a small annual international intake to seed the early days of
racial integration; and Helen to Guildford England to pursue her dream in art.
Chuck, the older boy and natural heir to the kingdom, was put into
apprenticeship at Tatum Farms in Dawsonville Georgia. The experiences are diverse
and personal, stories for entertainment now but difficult and testing when
lived. Letters and telephone calls were insufficient to share any angst.
Besides we would not have wanted to worry our parents who were having their own
struggles.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When Chuck decided that poultry farming was not for him, he
saw a way out in university and headed to Florida to study marine biology. The
way out of that was in the sea: fishing and diving and eventually working in a
dive shop. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Margaret remained in Trinidad gaining experience in the new
world of computers. By the time I returned with my degree from Hollins, Helen
was working in France. Margaret married her first sweetheart. When Jimmy was
accepted to university in Miami, Daddy had bought a house close to his sisters
and Mummy set up a home. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">For me, the farm was still home and even though we were not
able to keep it, its 50 years gave us all our start.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </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/AVvXsEjXC6y2I4d5TaR_i6_mMk0_L7nNKPQ1DpcpGoh2MPtO_cqkaB-OQ7JeqO8mEhE1YfUuuTy-3suBB0MSy2QVxPUtyL0eBtrw3y80aWoiiO1FM1CEy49dydGfYiw1oU74T4zg8C-aYSnJcL6Q6LMiXss5H0q19Ep4-Cn8n5e6X9QSD8_nqBsjH-U4WDDIl5s/s640/family%20sisters%201995%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="398" data-original-width="640" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXC6y2I4d5TaR_i6_mMk0_L7nNKPQ1DpcpGoh2MPtO_cqkaB-OQ7JeqO8mEhE1YfUuuTy-3suBB0MSy2QVxPUtyL0eBtrw3y80aWoiiO1FM1CEy49dydGfYiw1oU74T4zg8C-aYSnJcL6Q6LMiXss5H0q19Ep4-Cn8n5e6X9QSD8_nqBsjH-U4WDDIl5s/w400-h249/family%20sisters%201995%20-%201.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1995 sisters<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/AVvXsEgT0kgu6VyeSCpjbcf3yU5DYQGQ6u0n1wAndaCG8sG5vKhq-BHEI9ARK1wWw5gQVATlty6XTpT6PEbVxyWrXwFNTb6Awi3ni67h4CxlVYPe-lckFK7IEbtQGNY3qm5dIql-2qZvDsMakyuRhIOOnM8YvdCrj579unRdw7z15wHD4aD8up7yJ0aFwiix1L0/s4032/2023%20three%20sisters%20beach.heic" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT0kgu6VyeSCpjbcf3yU5DYQGQ6u0n1wAndaCG8sG5vKhq-BHEI9ARK1wWw5gQVATlty6XTpT6PEbVxyWrXwFNTb6Awi3ni67h4CxlVYPe-lckFK7IEbtQGNY3qm5dIql-2qZvDsMakyuRhIOOnM8YvdCrj579unRdw7z15wHD4aD8up7yJ0aFwiix1L0/w300-h400/2023%20three%20sisters%20beach.heic" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2023 sisters<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><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/AVvXsEisjVDCN3Enf89y0mFs3if5k62DmQ9OEp9bgJFN6naNKrWzQJ-LxXz2mx1eRtqaMS4xdEIjqrctHO1-nFMC86S6KE9Opkg4ZZE-unAgDlAnCvHWwH7j5w6riO4VPcsSsFLT-kVRrdLRVyy-0BHWHpeMJMnuxVdAGJ_on3JWFHKwTe_wMKYZZK5oU5XfzYs/s3264/2017%20sibs.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisjVDCN3Enf89y0mFs3if5k62DmQ9OEp9bgJFN6naNKrWzQJ-LxXz2mx1eRtqaMS4xdEIjqrctHO1-nFMC86S6KE9Opkg4ZZE-unAgDlAnCvHWwH7j5w6riO4VPcsSsFLT-kVRrdLRVyy-0BHWHpeMJMnuxVdAGJ_on3JWFHKwTe_wMKYZZK5oU5XfzYs/w640-h480/2017%20sibs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2017 Santa Cruz<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><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/AVvXsEiPTLt49wdD59Q680kVq_RVk-xcbo0RaiFlwmnu-Wc6bMjvrnM4MnOfpJdwHdwDazjGBpl4kRbSnwr1OVbOzvIHgktzCSs3_aYmGSoLJUvxhgljz00FTTSwPPHFQhfqGVJn1_aRaKh3VbIxzKuNUDhYiI9vQTR-ey9VvtgJhOnPR6y0GH2f-i0CpnMVwBo/s3648/2017%20chuck%20and%20girls.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTLt49wdD59Q680kVq_RVk-xcbo0RaiFlwmnu-Wc6bMjvrnM4MnOfpJdwHdwDazjGBpl4kRbSnwr1OVbOzvIHgktzCSs3_aYmGSoLJUvxhgljz00FTTSwPPHFQhfqGVJn1_aRaKh3VbIxzKuNUDhYiI9vQTR-ey9VvtgJhOnPR6y0GH2f-i0CpnMVwBo/s320/2017%20chuck%20and%20girls.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Toco</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkFC550Awi6IgcTHToQoV9Ur5-Y8b2tEonJgg_hUQZo5rg7GR0j4J2fMjdSsYZk7nWY9ilYRYP8kad3IKvLjCREKjIZWOMVeDewgGtPOG21LYNVY5jLpZpoXKilGdoPVAQbMdNYb_8-tFNu2j58kVYkq7SzDFzMeiagFESv470Je3l_8sxmwQ8fH-QN5M/s3648/2017%20davi%20miki.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkFC550Awi6IgcTHToQoV9Ur5-Y8b2tEonJgg_hUQZo5rg7GR0j4J2fMjdSsYZk7nWY9ilYRYP8kad3IKvLjCREKjIZWOMVeDewgGtPOG21LYNVY5jLpZpoXKilGdoPVAQbMdNYb_8-tFNu2j58kVYkq7SzDFzMeiagFESv470Je3l_8sxmwQ8fH-QN5M/s320/2017%20davi%20miki.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Mummy’s Florida home became our holiday home, a sanctuary
away from Trinidad and eventually a home for some of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the years that followed, each of the five
was busy creating our own families. Helen was in Italy. Jimmy and Margaret in
Florida. Chuck moved to North Carolina. I remained in Trinidad. After Sue and
Andy had graduated from university, Margaret returned to live in Trinidad. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I worked at BWIA, it afforded some travel benefits so
we were all together in Miami in 1995. Some of us were there for Mummy’s birthday
in November 1997; and then for her memorial in February 1998. In 2017, Helen
and Chuck came to Trinidad. In 2023, we decided to be near to Jimmy since he
was not flying. Together for a moment, all five children of Cecil and Yvonne.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Products of those lives are abroad in the world: Davide and
Michele in Italy; Suelin in Florida; Orion in London; Summer and Raine in North
Carolina, Autumn in Colorado; Andrew and Anjani in Trinidad and Tobago.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>JJ is a helicopter
pilot likely to be deployed anywhere but he joined us for dim sum. Together
with Raine and briefly Sue, he was witness to the reunion and some revelations –
mainly from Chuck – of what his farm life was like. These next generation Wong
Chongs are decades removed from the seven acres in Santa Cruz but resilience
and determination live in their genes.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The challenge of this blog is not how much needs to be told,
but how little we may want said. This year, Jimmy took the best selfies! <br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"></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/AVvXsEhwUbT9Wk1Uo4uX2Iq2uVPwAAmOinHIQvPNeCt4A_WM5Gw6u51yWdZAcI0NW4VoDcIxuSjYr6dR9Iz2uMyrKKNaQ7GdacSIL8glmjaz68sLrk27wq8hTC2c04cpDV4-uzI5gPWEtP9roYiTnEl18yjSGZrvu61GAWnu_rvBzkn3YkNVoQvdD2HdEHrH9qU/s4032/jimmy%20selfie%20chuck%20raine.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/AVvXsEhwUbT9Wk1Uo4uX2Iq2uVPwAAmOinHIQvPNeCt4A_WM5Gw6u51yWdZAcI0NW4VoDcIxuSjYr6dR9Iz2uMyrKKNaQ7GdacSIL8glmjaz68sLrk27wq8hTC2c04cpDV4-uzI5gPWEtP9roYiTnEl18yjSGZrvu61GAWnu_rvBzkn3YkNVoQvdD2HdEHrH9qU/s320/jimmy%20selfie%20chuck%20raine.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> 2023<br /></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/AVvXsEgDhyDmzHzJA8BeGR8jWnEPLhselawdBIytkWPlqCjEiQtJDXbrEqyBvNYF77KMbJl-fh8G5M-chVUGNlDf5PtKkiSPSiFWML9qtoh7byQj_OTfJoQg5vmSr8IzQaWS6dLyeGI9ZYGPsgZY9WQ7SYDJKf9oFa1dG2p4IvdhPt3qZrdFuMktzNyt-bsNg6w/s4032/jimmy%20selfie%20fogo%20chuck.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/AVvXsEgDhyDmzHzJA8BeGR8jWnEPLhselawdBIytkWPlqCjEiQtJDXbrEqyBvNYF77KMbJl-fh8G5M-chVUGNlDf5PtKkiSPSiFWML9qtoh7byQj_OTfJoQg5vmSr8IzQaWS6dLyeGI9ZYGPsgZY9WQ7SYDJKf9oFa1dG2p4IvdhPt3qZrdFuMktzNyt-bsNg6w/s320/jimmy%20selfie%20fogo%20chuck.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNTAfXOi1Kse3Oh7emPM8fX1TH68CfeJjQdOufvHn71a0-tOaBigC77rM8XDZbzbfKqcnFKpQ926Sn4N8UTen-mbpAYijjmcD1kR0Ia1omEyAIlmeRp_xnrgG4v3zieomFpTSeyVT8FTXUYBTH6pNGqHDjfpArGzj-aHUwEcOY6ksuOiWkCKILToHfLEY/s3547/jimmy%20selfie%20fogo%20helen.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3547" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNTAfXOi1Kse3Oh7emPM8fX1TH68CfeJjQdOufvHn71a0-tOaBigC77rM8XDZbzbfKqcnFKpQ926Sn4N8UTen-mbpAYijjmcD1kR0Ia1omEyAIlmeRp_xnrgG4v3zieomFpTSeyVT8FTXUYBTH6pNGqHDjfpArGzj-aHUwEcOY6ksuOiWkCKILToHfLEY/s320/jimmy%20selfie%20fogo%20helen.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrJ31H8OqzElACle_X-m2t73zTgvNHaoIAjNdzKZmSxGeHqhIZPZa7Gg84NhnA0WeV6v9evBJ1R-nQC9GZ0txySO4e5zllRcJMw_wzD6c-6-AYMt5DO0kngYR9DFiuLX7Id0iDZG_Wm17_pnY5HCyswdW-OBevA6R6rJAMPR1qVN-3PsP9Herx7Z6GovI/s3833/jimmy%20selfie%20fogo%20pattie.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2763" data-original-width="3833" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrJ31H8OqzElACle_X-m2t73zTgvNHaoIAjNdzKZmSxGeHqhIZPZa7Gg84NhnA0WeV6v9evBJ1R-nQC9GZ0txySO4e5zllRcJMw_wzD6c-6-AYMt5DO0kngYR9DFiuLX7Id0iDZG_Wm17_pnY5HCyswdW-OBevA6R6rJAMPR1qVN-3PsP9Herx7Z6GovI/s320/jimmy%20selfie%20fogo%20pattie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYVk6o8Z6vjFhXYXnblkNJ7Zn2D5xImFiEnlqSbaKaq3-BazgZOLyrvFTw3S8lSeLK5aLO1Rq3BBv9FrrvFOc7DmhmLQAwbzlMClcKD2UyqhBckpPz6oVzsC4hkrJXgp8dl4Byy53_UfiLhTnRLvj3E5wxX_nNA3a-vvvVNEMsSIKkkzmfbbxD7eklmSs/s3543/jimmy%20selfie%20fogo%20sue.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2705" data-original-width="3543" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYVk6o8Z6vjFhXYXnblkNJ7Zn2D5xImFiEnlqSbaKaq3-BazgZOLyrvFTw3S8lSeLK5aLO1Rq3BBv9FrrvFOc7DmhmLQAwbzlMClcKD2UyqhBckpPz6oVzsC4hkrJXgp8dl4Byy53_UfiLhTnRLvj3E5wxX_nNA3a-vvvVNEMsSIKkkzmfbbxD7eklmSs/s320/jimmy%20selfie%20fogo%20sue.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYkxkHB1VoHfeLk4qlNNGVq56tC6Lsm7PX-Eo157avcG1RXxXOM1W6hCSMkcOmF8XshaTBQi7NJ9VYSgpqqbSEuCgwZGCRSn_JE_Yrn55oqrUwpvYHFFVXGu7-nMPyhX3n-0nUSR9hlNNAUTfGUYGmuDthv-IKXhT4v_ZQJSA8PqYphoDL417BhWQjZyY/s4032/jimmy%20selfie%20hannah%20raine.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/AVvXsEjYkxkHB1VoHfeLk4qlNNGVq56tC6Lsm7PX-Eo157avcG1RXxXOM1W6hCSMkcOmF8XshaTBQi7NJ9VYSgpqqbSEuCgwZGCRSn_JE_Yrn55oqrUwpvYHFFVXGu7-nMPyhX3n-0nUSR9hlNNAUTfGUYGmuDthv-IKXhT4v_ZQJSA8PqYphoDL417BhWQjZyY/s320/jimmy%20selfie%20hannah%20raine.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-8-1JEJU-pTh_K64lBnmOryoyhvBRJ2rnxal3PsBWXIObXYeP5x2LyboX_EDS8FMxKloRBUX_P_VwE7_6OKAJHzZ56hPWBU_AAHH-WdmQafd-_A0uk80NN3YMw6BLMwccDrJC3CqV-TMh4V1RPQ3cCkO1YLWkdZjT4YeK2PgEqVnB2qMtc-koxay5BWQ/s3913/jimmy%20selfie%20JJ%20gail.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3020" data-original-width="3913" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-8-1JEJU-pTh_K64lBnmOryoyhvBRJ2rnxal3PsBWXIObXYeP5x2LyboX_EDS8FMxKloRBUX_P_VwE7_6OKAJHzZ56hPWBU_AAHH-WdmQafd-_A0uk80NN3YMw6BLMwccDrJC3CqV-TMh4V1RPQ3cCkO1YLWkdZjT4YeK2PgEqVnB2qMtc-koxay5BWQ/s320/jimmy%20selfie%20JJ%20gail.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-27542061447788539442023-10-10T13:09:00.000-04:002023-10-10T13:09:09.195-04:00Dim Sum and other Feasts<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"> Growing up, there was no such thing as “eating out.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We ate at home or in Aunty Chan’s house; sometimes in my
Akung’s shop but seldom at Apo’s. We ate grandly at weddings; Uncle Didd and
Aunty Shairoon had their wedding reception in a Chinese restaurant, Kowloon on
St Vincent Street I think.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I first travelled to Miami when I was 13, and eating at the
Ponderosa was a treat, funky plastic baskets full of fries! Food seemed so easy,
so plentiful in the USA. We indulged on abundant and exotic fruit – apples,
peaches, grapes, plums – and ate American food! </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> <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/AVvXsEjc8oUks2f9XNTFHJb7_toDAn_VGVLvt9CUgbhTy1hSnsyyH0IFRXLauiglxPO84Ar7L7tohe3FQZuTyyoVJ5hH-3PffYY-CGLbfVZD7T0Z2YPc2k2636oCoW_i_y6Oz9dWW7pFnkATqZtCC-NsumfE7JC8N342yWogCIuBilVwUMFNt9kt_tTmnBCBSMs/s2000/food%20going%20out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1353" data-original-width="2000" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc8oUks2f9XNTFHJb7_toDAn_VGVLvt9CUgbhTy1hSnsyyH0IFRXLauiglxPO84Ar7L7tohe3FQZuTyyoVJ5hH-3PffYY-CGLbfVZD7T0Z2YPc2k2636oCoW_i_y6Oz9dWW7pFnkATqZtCC-NsumfE7JC8N342yWogCIuBilVwUMFNt9kt_tTmnBCBSMs/w640-h432/food%20going%20out.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2023: getting ready to go out to eat!!!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><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/AVvXsEjLLwSaqf5CmNcstCjeM93McdLUsI76PjPeOt1TU4W_ceQlUETowv4VM8lCZUwXiDa_OVc3J2W7buh9X-rPWgd1ADmT0b2lz7LNNpJbBmqqKk56pJlbMRKwad3_86bVxiBXKMqP23IkGnJJEa8W1ELIRgtTjgIaz52VyKZoUURN5a6tam3oA8COUSLHZas/s2048/food%20fogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLLwSaqf5CmNcstCjeM93McdLUsI76PjPeOt1TU4W_ceQlUETowv4VM8lCZUwXiDa_OVc3J2W7buh9X-rPWgd1ADmT0b2lz7LNNpJbBmqqKk56pJlbMRKwad3_86bVxiBXKMqP23IkGnJJEa8W1ELIRgtTjgIaz52VyKZoUURN5a6tam3oA8COUSLHZas/w640-h480/food%20fogo.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The long table for 14 at Fogo de Chao<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />
<p class="MsoNormal">Home food was always there, plentiful, freshly cooked and
eaten with gusto. Our mother cooked every day, mainly creole: pelau piled high
on plates alongside lime-y cucumber salad or slices of avocado; dark brown stews,
chicken or beef; maraconi or shepherd’s pies; curries and roasts; vegetables,
patchoi, pumpkin, cabbage or bodi; and sancoche or cowheel soup with green fig,
provisions and dumplings. Mummy made wonderful soups: wontons were a Sunday
special, grinding fresh pork and chicken, wrapping the dumplings, simmering the
soup, boiling the wontons. At lunch, it was all gone in half hour. She would
say, we cook for hours and it’s gone in minutes!</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When the cousins came over on Saturdays, it was hops and
black pudding; country style arepas, accras and fry bake. But who was studying
food when we had seven acres of farm and a riverside to play on!</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Our father cooked Chinese and mainly for Sunday or special
occasions: rum-and-ginger chicken with fat juicy toongkoo (black mushrooms), stir-fried
vegetables; thin-sliced beef and sweet peppers, broccoli; big shrimp sauteed in
tomato sauce; steamed fish splashed with hot oil, ginger and chives; and always
rice with or without lapcheong. We would order harkow or timsam from Chinese
restaurants on Charlotte street; but I don’t think we ever ate in one until we
were grown: maybe Shay Shay Tien or Kowloon. I think I first encountered dim sum
dining in Hong Kong on my world tour with Aunty Sim, and I was already twenty.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdAJ9K2oQ_S51c-l26idzcbli0DHXA7fUA-6KP3udFuBmz5AzAWH5p1jO26QgBzZ8i4I1KgyiFSX1_l0HHlgo2d4X9zfWJnjsmel-zxaN4Rxj2XuLfslFhWbW08fhDlbuKq_t9pHV7qdfJyI6I_PlO2J16s8qpTlKJCD7I7cDol0yflsKtq2j9Qx2ucY/s2048/food%20dimsum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdAJ9K2oQ_S51c-l26idzcbli0DHXA7fUA-6KP3udFuBmz5AzAWH5p1jO26QgBzZ8i4I1KgyiFSX1_l0HHlgo2d4X9zfWJnjsmel-zxaN4Rxj2XuLfslFhWbW08fhDlbuKq_t9pHV7qdfJyI6I_PlO2J16s8qpTlKJCD7I7cDol0yflsKtq2j9Qx2ucY/w640-h480/food%20dimsum.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXIpGF3tu1XzzvPZElvkM7TawI-HcJiyUJNhsemB6uo9f036GCb0Xfwdv1pdwpf3JywG2se4FTkxcPhlx6DvhFnFx1lF3su23l5-nh4QqabTduOSO2eYMhPktmoLR44QpZ0voHJYNCYWOczx9G_5cyxWjYpKBjvBUbX46Z0Tmuyaj7jgahUzXvaWPSf50/s4032/food%20dimsum%20rice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXIpGF3tu1XzzvPZElvkM7TawI-HcJiyUJNhsemB6uo9f036GCb0Xfwdv1pdwpf3JywG2se4FTkxcPhlx6DvhFnFx1lF3su23l5-nh4QqabTduOSO2eYMhPktmoLR44QpZ0voHJYNCYWOczx9G_5cyxWjYpKBjvBUbX46Z0Tmuyaj7jgahUzXvaWPSf50/w300-h400/food%20dimsum%20rice.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRR2k_VdurSQIpWYDO_qiojOP_6HrzgkmfT0woWKANScmvt6lNPHKB1lku1mdp2lU-xOSuStxlkeMctfZUF7iEYRDyQE5nq2gOXpiCEaw028s7-cLjLBXcpx7CORwa_rvAk-oDcIw5qZIKAYrIyWdbObeBOH3CvpJTR9ZJH3C6M8JhB-e783VtzK0Kc4w/s2048/food%20dimsum%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRR2k_VdurSQIpWYDO_qiojOP_6HrzgkmfT0woWKANScmvt6lNPHKB1lku1mdp2lU-xOSuStxlkeMctfZUF7iEYRDyQE5nq2gOXpiCEaw028s7-cLjLBXcpx7CORwa_rvAk-oDcIw5qZIKAYrIyWdbObeBOH3CvpJTR9ZJH3C6M8JhB-e783VtzK0Kc4w/w640-h480/food%20dimsum%202.jpg" width="640" /></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/AVvXsEg1Ya_TylrW4c_TOM5jSdF_2zeUTXMI0RmdO5EICR4RE7rLFVHiPbqXkat3XRVEbaKPaccYUTrnu2ajsUwQZEwWJOIGmvfqw8g9j9NknLWDL2WiwNyfuyGR1ozki00qV_SnhegEf0oQICeaC5FS982VtYzd-rTQ3HMm0ktS_SlAbue0t-7Xmp8nkw_6s7w/s640/family%20raine%20chuck%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="481" data-original-width="640" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Ya_TylrW4c_TOM5jSdF_2zeUTXMI0RmdO5EICR4RE7rLFVHiPbqXkat3XRVEbaKPaccYUTrnu2ajsUwQZEwWJOIGmvfqw8g9j9NknLWDL2WiwNyfuyGR1ozki00qV_SnhegEf0oQICeaC5FS982VtYzd-rTQ3HMm0ktS_SlAbue0t-7Xmp8nkw_6s7w/w640-h482/family%20raine%20chuck%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dim sum with pots of jasmine tea!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It's no wonder that we gravitate to eating “family style” sharing
everything on one table and even taking things off each other’s plates.
Margaret remembers the first time Ranji ate with us at home, Boxing Day or
New Year’s maybe. We had crispy skin roast pork and bird’s nest soup. We
horrified him with tales of how the bird’s nests were collected on cliffs and
were really the regurgitated stuff that the swallows fed their nestlings. When
he ate the pork and set aside the skin, Margaret looked over and asked, you
suck that? Then proceeded to reach for it.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Jimmy had only tried the Silver Pond dim sum with Helen the
first day of the vacation. But we all had a hunger for this style of eating;
and when the first meal was found tasty and more-ish, Silver Pond was a good
place to gather. We ate there the very next day. Service was quick and friendly
and we had the favourites: shrimp harkow; Chinese broccoli; slimies (cheong
fan) with shrimp or beef; tripe; sticky rice. Then Chuck came in, and JJ, so we
went back for a grander buffet: adding fried taro dumplings and shrimp balls,
bao, chicken feet. Before we left Lauderdale, we were there on the last day for
wonton soup. Add some ginger to the stir-fry greens we requested. Even spicier
was the recommended fried squid garnished with salty chives and jalapenos.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJiNVO8nkx3hf87VUgYzqW0irslcbXq3MjY1enU4C3x0hTBPtk3S3i5IZv47PQlIKe7c5_37ty_TGHnXu1RCCFBLY9zWLax7VSUWor5Q0eX7k6T7q2r5fp5nn6pkkAZVduZvJrjw8_ubvBojS1NX_HeyrmdoMGnmvp-Vm6V5RMHpKtr4x0BAJ9IiwRNaw/s2048/food%20first%20dinner%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJiNVO8nkx3hf87VUgYzqW0irslcbXq3MjY1enU4C3x0hTBPtk3S3i5IZv47PQlIKe7c5_37ty_TGHnXu1RCCFBLY9zWLax7VSUWor5Q0eX7k6T7q2r5fp5nn6pkkAZVduZvJrjw8_ubvBojS1NX_HeyrmdoMGnmvp-Vm6V5RMHpKtr4x0BAJ9IiwRNaw/w400-h300/food%20first%20dinner%202.jpg" width="400" /></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/AVvXsEiFvJojsoN1E54WfMeUX9PS2JAHrszXmdP85QZfrYzwLFXRhzzf4HlPVtOevRf85b7q3q1H_4qb2zVpsGhyWp65B9_BeNBtW6eai9eUIn9dSHYxue9bQqrB8vJ0ntwOb8a34OcYZa66dOoLKRU82-1kbzA8sMaRMiE7Awozrkodbt_9L2czGOGCwG_mBlA/s2048/food%20first%20dinner%203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFvJojsoN1E54WfMeUX9PS2JAHrszXmdP85QZfrYzwLFXRhzzf4HlPVtOevRf85b7q3q1H_4qb2zVpsGhyWp65B9_BeNBtW6eai9eUIn9dSHYxue9bQqrB8vJ0ntwOb8a34OcYZa66dOoLKRU82-1kbzA8sMaRMiE7Awozrkodbt_9L2czGOGCwG_mBlA/w640-h480/food%20first%20dinner%203.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delicious dinner by Shannon and Chuck<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><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/AVvXsEgz4IyU5ni1nrhzzeVg7PORJkFY1xiE6By6rqbIyVomadA-Y47FUdJXCQu5sGST39B6o_5Lmepk_lTjf18RxR3OMKtQrRWEmK9LC7Aabwojlusxuo18fyOzuGTEFkRiUTTZDYQyDS0AA5Wt7N6OR7-1fOBq-5qnHKOrNqQphzteY0_S3VZE312HWNyTHjo/s4032/food%20wine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz4IyU5ni1nrhzzeVg7PORJkFY1xiE6By6rqbIyVomadA-Y47FUdJXCQu5sGST39B6o_5Lmepk_lTjf18RxR3OMKtQrRWEmK9LC7Aabwojlusxuo18fyOzuGTEFkRiUTTZDYQyDS0AA5Wt7N6OR7-1fOBq-5qnHKOrNqQphzteY0_S3VZE312HWNyTHjo/w640-h480/food%20wine.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JJ pairing red wine and chocolate<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/AVvXsEh2gmar2ddkRvdaApO6M8fWdqXpIbp5W0Ie9HbLDds8Qt5W3Ohbix9QNJq3uM0I9LNwEvYEh2m7AaeXD8Hvqg7CeyZu_O2zUylsEwdkS4LFMOMOf8M1ISdTzYya9E29yXe1JfYDXgGnyY8q9pe11o17SzSnoX4NMwJmoIM-xbo6mo3JUHSqxhFwy5JUUP8/s4032/food%20jimmy%20red%20mango.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2gmar2ddkRvdaApO6M8fWdqXpIbp5W0Ie9HbLDds8Qt5W3Ohbix9QNJq3uM0I9LNwEvYEh2m7AaeXD8Hvqg7CeyZu_O2zUylsEwdkS4LFMOMOf8M1ISdTzYya9E29yXe1JfYDXgGnyY8q9pe11o17SzSnoX4NMwJmoIM-xbo6mo3JUHSqxhFwy5JUUP8/w400-h300/food%20jimmy%20red%20mango.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jimmy cutting rum punches with red mango<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />
<p class="MsoNormal">The Trini Singh’s Roti Shop was next door in the same strip
mall. Patti got us a dozen doubles. We returned for more doubles, tasty and a
little larger than home, roti and aloo pies.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yes, we ate well even though most of us never stirred a pot.
Chuck and Shannon made the reunion dinner: tenderest pork tenderloin and
smashed potatoes which sat well after an afternoon knocking back passionfruit rum
punches. For dessert, Cocobel chocolates. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The next day, we reconvened at Fogo de Chao in downtown Fort
Lauderdale. It was an all you can eat salad buffet with meats on skewers served
at the tables. The long table was not so conducive to our rowdy chats and
picong, but we managed.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> <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/AVvXsEjMNmm0K2d2rlHhooabIej81FpoUB4fzbkKOCX4bmy_5Um4DdBKklpOkvdba7LWIdM-kT5PztJ3Gp2UQXSeRBOafaFcOuMlZCoGRSbojmLorgZAuRANAdM-752rYWcIFiyX5nQu_1H_QpRctgkMz6B2VZo2TI-DNoktrLpMXQagm7koZAV3Mu9DnXBXfug/s4030/food%20winndixie%20dinner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2196" data-original-width="4030" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMNmm0K2d2rlHhooabIej81FpoUB4fzbkKOCX4bmy_5Um4DdBKklpOkvdba7LWIdM-kT5PztJ3Gp2UQXSeRBOafaFcOuMlZCoGRSbojmLorgZAuRANAdM-752rYWcIFiyX5nQu_1H_QpRctgkMz6B2VZo2TI-DNoktrLpMXQagm7koZAV3Mu9DnXBXfug/w400-h217/food%20winndixie%20dinner.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First dinner: salad and chicken, courtesy Winn Dixie<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/AVvXsEjvi-GWFKOa5KBISXCYkbh2e_S2uTrmCWTdhRgJW6dFRzrLsUKQMNRGM-QAqQ4xOMEeZmbv3H2mdFJvft2AQ4Z-3bvFMf1-aNii6FHWaihugGR4doMwHY4dLb3Jc_J3dNbVkh6LDvdG9Zti63N6H9l66Y0_XVUdSLSFP68S_dWxvxN40YVNpDdqNhjGgm0/s4032/food%20sue%20and%20fam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvi-GWFKOa5KBISXCYkbh2e_S2uTrmCWTdhRgJW6dFRzrLsUKQMNRGM-QAqQ4xOMEeZmbv3H2mdFJvft2AQ4Z-3bvFMf1-aNii6FHWaihugGR4doMwHY4dLb3Jc_J3dNbVkh6LDvdG9Zti63N6H9l66Y0_XVUdSLSFP68S_dWxvxN40YVNpDdqNhjGgm0/w640-h480/food%20sue%20and%20fam.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rambunctions in the kitchen<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Most of our meals did not leave room for dessert, but we did
get a couple sweet treats. Cool gelato with Elliot, Lila and Hannah. And a
couple baked buns from the Chinese shop: one with custard, the other with Bavarian
cream. They tasted like baked bao!</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The crab-eaters did not forget the Dungeness crabs from
Costco. And if you were still hungry, Margaret made chicken soup.<br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">On the last evening, we were just happy to have found
Lauderdale by the sea. Our choice of evening meal allowed us to sit outside,
sipping a draft beer. Next time!</p>
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{page:WordSectio</style><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpgDPq5CH32RdOkEpKvfmu_TVFF36juhhGQN-gCQHmXCPMBvFVgSviM2WA5XNySdT46ciDXleI4MX715Kw5DZi__n_a_JRc-MPtu_Vpct00p78ode8S-YYTuehewZvvP6qcxsHhHm1u5_GZzPyVtXJT_KlUiGcfrl6xM5dRSoAs66DDQ-BZLzqbcBVXFI/s2212/family%20JJ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2212" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpgDPq5CH32RdOkEpKvfmu_TVFF36juhhGQN-gCQHmXCPMBvFVgSviM2WA5XNySdT46ciDXleI4MX715Kw5DZi__n_a_JRc-MPtu_Vpct00p78ode8S-YYTuehewZvvP6qcxsHhHm1u5_GZzPyVtXJT_KlUiGcfrl6xM5dRSoAs66DDQ-BZLzqbcBVXFI/w640-h394/family%20JJ.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-61703856711663372272023-10-08T13:46:00.000-04:002023-10-08T13:46:46.894-04:00Water Above Water Below<p>
</p>We boarded the airboat in rain. Our flat-bottomed barge sits
on flat water, just inches above the mucky bottom of the marsh. The waterways
are defined by grasses and cattails flanked by pond apple trees. Cow lilies with
small yellow flowers swarm the surface. In some areas it seems they would choke
the channels but the airboats glide easily parting the running green fronds.
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKeOLXrQqsE0LfjSk3lgjjnOykWOGe2l-ORk6NeKSjfizGAZDW4MHOvAOJDMga8dmAm0y0F7UjTfOJKbrVFBw77PO1j_ndZcTsfZisvcxNqdTDDskr-WtOxhobX_CxHUpbh3rkzKJZ0fDwUjZ_80ME4x4jdxFV8eufaO78Hq-kJrTmwGOLmglPaAN_LAI/s640/everglades%20rain%20-%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKeOLXrQqsE0LfjSk3lgjjnOykWOGe2l-ORk6NeKSjfizGAZDW4MHOvAOJDMga8dmAm0y0F7UjTfOJKbrVFBw77PO1j_ndZcTsfZisvcxNqdTDDskr-WtOxhobX_CxHUpbh3rkzKJZ0fDwUjZ_80ME4x4jdxFV8eufaO78Hq-kJrTmwGOLmglPaAN_LAI/w480-h640/everglades%20rain%20-%202.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br />
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJT2Ts70hz4b-44lU4HRGGoZ_iKtnKw7qkoYyA0vNUu7FlYZGBqjPEr-sD0Es_lT83dk_W-VOr-J_MCi46gY8KXzWe8LlL0Kya0vTJQm3CSzpkDBDjJvgXf2k2ZipMZ2nVAGBl6gRUeKE3GTH0lZ1nckWt5YxcmsBtkgyPtpPXeZKVLI0gqQeC751xGc/s640/everglades%20visitors%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="593" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJT2Ts70hz4b-44lU4HRGGoZ_iKtnKw7qkoYyA0vNUu7FlYZGBqjPEr-sD0Es_lT83dk_W-VOr-J_MCi46gY8KXzWe8LlL0Kya0vTJQm3CSzpkDBDjJvgXf2k2ZipMZ2nVAGBl6gRUeKE3GTH0lZ1nckWt5YxcmsBtkgyPtpPXeZKVLI0gqQeC751xGc/w594-h640/everglades%20visitors%20-%201.jpeg" width="594" /></a></div><br />Welcome to our airboat tour of the Everglades. Captain Chaos
speaks in a slow reassuring drawl. Hundreds of miles of man-made canals are available
though we would only range in a small area today, looking for one of the
resident alligators. We would glide through the canals and spin in their territory
hoping that they would emerge. The water is high in the wet season, he said. In
the dry season, the ponds where the alligators hang out are more obvious.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYmIHhVKJXYjIkpUFg5gr_ELbsXnTyzd47HwQO75h-0CRxA4MFf7TsYAn7LxHiAdXLW6DQKRq84FZzZ5-99Skg2tHhFH5jf2tdOfRjdrXWA1NCdj7hi3uaECD9DwJodD1vVASZ7G_oX0tz2aVRiQmp9XN6Xp0eFifE84hZqtqcaEA4mOQiUNMyovADCY4/s640/everglades%20boat%20engine%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="506" data-original-width="640" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYmIHhVKJXYjIkpUFg5gr_ELbsXnTyzd47HwQO75h-0CRxA4MFf7TsYAn7LxHiAdXLW6DQKRq84FZzZ5-99Skg2tHhFH5jf2tdOfRjdrXWA1NCdj7hi3uaECD9DwJodD1vVASZ7G_oX0tz2aVRiQmp9XN6Xp0eFifE84hZqtqcaEA4mOQiUNMyovADCY4/w400-h316/everglades%20boat%20engine%20-%201.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs61t1SUmte_BlpwBDv5p2JBkxAGipUWAcEE2oAZiFrLtX0Fuoz2yid05ljXXYKlSvKIxJL-w1udo_pDRKbyQMMRHKokP7RtqS5C2MiGhX-jyknx94v2RLx-cZUbv60AfhFV6U__Do8_zkEZIywA1YcN8g6rQXndRN41TL2yMPGGs78dSgvEN-eXelofs/s640/everglades%20captain%20chaos%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="611" data-original-width="640" height="612" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs61t1SUmte_BlpwBDv5p2JBkxAGipUWAcEE2oAZiFrLtX0Fuoz2yid05ljXXYKlSvKIxJL-w1udo_pDRKbyQMMRHKokP7RtqS5C2MiGhX-jyknx94v2RLx-cZUbv60AfhFV6U__Do8_zkEZIywA1YcN8g6rQXndRN41TL2yMPGGs78dSgvEN-eXelofs/w640-h612/everglades%20captain%20chaos%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Florida’s “sea of grass” takes the spill from Lake
Okeechobee over a wide estuarine area spanning south Florida from the Gulf of
Mexico to Florida Bay. The marshland covers more than 4,300 square miles (11,100
square kilometres) but the Everglades National Park is half that area and includes Florida Bay. It is home to alligators, manatees, hundreds of
birds and an abundance of freshwater fish. The Everglades is the main source of
water for most of the state.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Into the early 20<sup>th</sup> century, efforts were continuous
to “drain the marsh” for real estate, for agriculture, for residential developments. A few
enlightened individuals saw the benefits of a constant supply of fresh water and the unique and wonderful ecosystem that integrates flora and resident and visiting fauna. The
national park was established in 1947; and conservation began in the 1970s. It
was designated a Biosphere Reserve by UNESCO in 1976 and a World Heritage Site
in 1979.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The airboat is a noisy vehicle, powered above the water,
with very little draft underwater. It does not stir up the bottom, Captain
Chaos assured us there is no environmental disturbance whatsoever. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPND5jYfHZkecHzt8YjAvszsA8ZrV9A9tVbLkFtbBQn1yPBULDlxvfIFsP58H88jmc4OvmJ-TqlHbV9D8AQ2osjXIe1V8G62eOVMZe11oC4qoKj9xHh2GazPNdafOv_NyGeuZpguHIgKRPYSUOLl9X8BZOKuWvRXMVkC5dNHOyeuUOIw9vO6QODxUz80o/s640/everglades%20endless%20channels%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPND5jYfHZkecHzt8YjAvszsA8ZrV9A9tVbLkFtbBQn1yPBULDlxvfIFsP58H88jmc4OvmJ-TqlHbV9D8AQ2osjXIe1V8G62eOVMZe11oC4qoKj9xHh2GazPNdafOv_NyGeuZpguHIgKRPYSUOLl9X8BZOKuWvRXMVkC5dNHOyeuUOIw9vO6QODxUz80o/w640-h480/everglades%20endless%20channels%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjhJbqnehF1JLEaQzUHGzb5F2MBPlHqZNDyjLQY3vKzWqINoeW_RVtJjSqzbNJeKyQ1SRsgR97k33_94DrIMv7uGophqvvqKc99pHmBMCSvWVcv8-4cGRaHSae6J66qy0LCY_C4bKfhEgQwSCmBfJN5CQFmLKDPZpSwao1BSZDqxXDNr1Y6feYD2lSVeg/s640/everglades%20boat%20in%20lilies%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjhJbqnehF1JLEaQzUHGzb5F2MBPlHqZNDyjLQY3vKzWqINoeW_RVtJjSqzbNJeKyQ1SRsgR97k33_94DrIMv7uGophqvvqKc99pHmBMCSvWVcv8-4cGRaHSae6J66qy0LCY_C4bKfhEgQwSCmBfJN5CQFmLKDPZpSwao1BSZDqxXDNr1Y6feYD2lSVeg/w400-h300/everglades%20boat%20in%20lilies%20-%201.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He manoeuvred close to the banks. We peered into the tangles
under the trees looking for Louis and Bella. He spun the boat sideways into the
rain. No Maxwell, no T-Rex, no CC. In another small pond, we came upon a snout
and the ridge of a back, still as a fallen tree. Buddy was there. He paddled
out, allowed one spin of the airboat then in silence, Buddy slipped underwater.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">All other searches proved fruitless. Perhaps we might have
enjoyed just sitting on the still water, cool in the drizzle, watching the
storm clouds drifting over us. After all, how could we in 60 minutes begin to
appreciate or imagine the vast and wondrous sea of grass. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9BvTTPdDT_QgNBRjW2Ztma1HR0O5Ogq_9HJW1gMkTe2AfRSyITXgKX2_10sQ4w2C3j4oyGcWVKN_XMCqFY4wFn5375rO_HUSRjn65JB0ttnqolWp-Bt53sVYlSPG1eb_aQwJmiQB9ImDXgBPG-9DpGwqQx04y6YMOXc6cIiyRww80vPWd8_meUSdwMOM/s640/everglades%20alligator%20in%20water%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9BvTTPdDT_QgNBRjW2Ztma1HR0O5Ogq_9HJW1gMkTe2AfRSyITXgKX2_10sQ4w2C3j4oyGcWVKN_XMCqFY4wFn5375rO_HUSRjn65JB0ttnqolWp-Bt53sVYlSPG1eb_aQwJmiQB9ImDXgBPG-9DpGwqQx04y6YMOXc6cIiyRww80vPWd8_meUSdwMOM/w640-h480/everglades%20alligator%20in%20water%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQKF2RpveWFW4VD_QEp_7RSJ1eqz1NuDc23SdcXz9_f48-UcUar9Wq0mlWqsbj2aedpEWIhyQXO51ymee4T8TF1mJBagz2gL-eE3yi3NMoAsLVHT0vpHGl0CsfSTyYSez5p8Jp5VD_9VF7XBm9ICmQ5_ZW44cd5wCnEibhpJPRYPdRjnijfUVe_VosPw/s640/everglades%20alligator%20in%20water%20-%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQKF2RpveWFW4VD_QEp_7RSJ1eqz1NuDc23SdcXz9_f48-UcUar9Wq0mlWqsbj2aedpEWIhyQXO51ymee4T8TF1mJBagz2gL-eE3yi3NMoAsLVHT0vpHGl0CsfSTyYSez5p8Jp5VD_9VF7XBm9ICmQ5_ZW44cd5wCnEibhpJPRYPdRjnijfUVe_VosPw/s320/everglades%20alligator%20in%20water%20-%202.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the Alligator sideshow, we learned that most of the
alligators in the show are “rescues.” Alligators navigate by the earth’s
magnetic field and, if released in a distant territory, would return unerringly
to where they were picked up. We are all food for them. They are always wild.
Never turn your back on an alligator. Avoid them especially if they are feeding;
you can become part of their feast.</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK1JMZCQas0k_qhg1U7iHR0Jt9MaMQQMGptI7h1eUMCtlcs50U0g62m9nMgcqHjtijHZTEw_ptAjbhu4xEYimEOEy78du-8YpAFkWK_Dzy72bNtXD2rgcJXalHRoXbutDktpUtZmoyij974DssWz-oJK_2BfRzp9RyDiZ373LPGbA4lJjwuRhCnEAXC1Q/s640/everglades%20alligator%20wrangler%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="415" data-original-width="640" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK1JMZCQas0k_qhg1U7iHR0Jt9MaMQQMGptI7h1eUMCtlcs50U0g62m9nMgcqHjtijHZTEw_ptAjbhu4xEYimEOEy78du-8YpAFkWK_Dzy72bNtXD2rgcJXalHRoXbutDktpUtZmoyij974DssWz-oJK_2BfRzp9RyDiZ373LPGbA4lJjwuRhCnEAXC1Q/w640-h416/everglades%20alligator%20wrangler%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">We had set out from Lauderdale in the rain, hoping to outrun
it heading west. We returned in rain, blustery wind gusts and scudding storm
clouds. Thanks to Shannon for taking us out in nature.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEionRqJhG9JenxO67fmReryf1fAgS5sPGzoUKQ3L-EqcDUi-XBgPmLTupTyK_yvyS8QNB_YPpCYn62Ze3xc-8dn3beFjXkWmKtBmAq3JpvJUjpjamGL72PH5DmM_YLTXK0tHo_UhR1OcaFvpRYp8Qzi2rJTFTKUCsX0WIL0QRiPZhWipvZYbN-J_RCqlCw/s640/everglades%20in%20rain%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEionRqJhG9JenxO67fmReryf1fAgS5sPGzoUKQ3L-EqcDUi-XBgPmLTupTyK_yvyS8QNB_YPpCYn62Ze3xc-8dn3beFjXkWmKtBmAq3JpvJUjpjamGL72PH5DmM_YLTXK0tHo_UhR1OcaFvpRYp8Qzi2rJTFTKUCsX0WIL0QRiPZhWipvZYbN-J_RCqlCw/w640-h480/everglades%20in%20rain%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-71520408646861153052023-10-07T15:06:00.000-04:002023-10-07T15:06:24.548-04:00Finding Lauderdale on the sea<p>The first day, we headed to the sea, two minutes away. We
ran into the dark waves, warm as bath water. Look out for where it drops into
the deep. Sharks all along the Florida coast, we were reminded.</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/AVvXsEhzdlFJe4d5THxvkavtLLJRwv5ROmYSNb-yZ-5gM7egGUv6XxwEArO5wKU1MPFzWni2R8hyphenhyphenptwI8Nf2gs-E02zn5v2cj99cL58n0m18IqhSBycMDHWZX7cYj8W4wS822dq7Y1vunguf5VihEO7_S_glnhsgUEnkph6cDKL9NBgpLMRVCUCOFUZufkF5fPc/s640/lauderdale%20broken%20pier%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzdlFJe4d5THxvkavtLLJRwv5ROmYSNb-yZ-5gM7egGUv6XxwEArO5wKU1MPFzWni2R8hyphenhyphenptwI8Nf2gs-E02zn5v2cj99cL58n0m18IqhSBycMDHWZX7cYj8W4wS822dq7Y1vunguf5VihEO7_S_glnhsgUEnkph6cDKL9NBgpLMRVCUCOFUZufkF5fPc/w640-h480/lauderdale%20broken%20pier%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fishing pier at Lauderdale on the sea<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />
<p class="MsoNormal">Behind us, the wall of skyscrapers with windows to the
ocean. In the northerly distance, the pier with its middle missing. When we didn’t
venture into the water, we walked the beach and the streets of shuttered houses.
Did anyone live here, or were these vacation homes?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We find the post office, the supermarket. We make mad dashes
across eight lanes when there is no traffic. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">On the day before the last, the sea is still rocking and tumbling.
Kite surfers drift low against the blue blue sky. We walk idly towards the pier
collecting shells. Hefty gulls regard us without ruffling a feather. Alert sandpipers
high step to the surf prising the sand with long beaks. A squadron of pelicans dips
over the waves.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvWc3FU5_g8ygfucbfIzmoBm3GfAMvgxDWdW8lU111KADnxy9X1SZtzHwOpsu5fvQr3QdG7RiFYUl5sc8I4GMgr9uyLAvtQhX62CGH7vvtr6YoggLAw40yo5rPckiSIJrk_2DJ1iB_M4UZzRTd-ZGTQzb7SUEU21sN6T2Oy3W4g07XhjTiJP-G1ObORsc/s640/lauderdale%20beach%20picnic%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="640" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvWc3FU5_g8ygfucbfIzmoBm3GfAMvgxDWdW8lU111KADnxy9X1SZtzHwOpsu5fvQr3QdG7RiFYUl5sc8I4GMgr9uyLAvtQhX62CGH7vvtr6YoggLAw40yo5rPckiSIJrk_2DJ1iB_M4UZzRTd-ZGTQzb7SUEU21sN6T2Oy3W4g07XhjTiJP-G1ObORsc/w640-h346/lauderdale%20beach%20picnic%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMeDUTajIyXJhEx4IiL92SCW-uW-KiTrIWZS8MNuVRZd0W0I0UZcBWnOHwGga7x0uuQT7Prpar_7z7TJY5viYQzoAJQyZWqBjv1lQSsfJQUsinvzOOqOeTiE-SaOZ2iAIXYh1Yc6rOpVBxpGveE4TTz7wC5inH4G3ZU5yhKFFxJORnt4goWW54fA4HV4I/s1604/lauderdale%20walking%20beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1275" data-original-width="1604" height="508" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMeDUTajIyXJhEx4IiL92SCW-uW-KiTrIWZS8MNuVRZd0W0I0UZcBWnOHwGga7x0uuQT7Prpar_7z7TJY5viYQzoAJQyZWqBjv1lQSsfJQUsinvzOOqOeTiE-SaOZ2iAIXYh1Yc6rOpVBxpGveE4TTz7wC5inH4G3ZU5yhKFFxJORnt4goWW54fA4HV4I/w640-h508/lauderdale%20walking%20beach.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTWKiMrONbpzWCfSaBV5ts5h7duqAeGHjH88TtTsPlKCOsRYwrliq6yPMTeiqh9YMBsrnsgS7NDLI3iPFZoEDrkd0yHWSfpZbT4u1rSiuTdS2xhWy57HnuMo1jygULmSxTJY76x3HbkaWH8DgbITy9PJ2-zmMl4ccCuIwTVM-m8YrWVSa0_7OL8RC6YVg/s3183/2023%20three%20sisters%20all%20hands%20up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3183" data-original-width="3023" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTWKiMrONbpzWCfSaBV5ts5h7duqAeGHjH88TtTsPlKCOsRYwrliq6yPMTeiqh9YMBsrnsgS7NDLI3iPFZoEDrkd0yHWSfpZbT4u1rSiuTdS2xhWy57HnuMo1jygULmSxTJY76x3HbkaWH8DgbITy9PJ2-zmMl4ccCuIwTVM-m8YrWVSa0_7OL8RC6YVg/w608-h640/2023%20three%20sisters%20all%20hands%20up.jpg" width="608" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At the pier, the signs say “keep 300 feet away.” Clearly, no
one takes notice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The middle section of
the Angelin’s Fishing Pier was taken out by late season Hurricane Nicole, November
8-11, 2022. It will be a challenge to repair.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-qohv891vLOXxpHFy2WRN7-FZ0h_QCb0CBuVZtKnQf0bJPi9AD5lv3Dfa7DIFCyFpLb7bdKn4uVq9tp7YwjYuQpqoiTpAyJL2RckGuhQR6hpGNyMl-7muBtz1UqbF4oALaKdXJjBu9jtYseB3uGkXcXWp3Y4ufNeAaQzBM418-ivA-N_TyjFC_D9O3gA/s3088/lauderdale%20hannah%20helen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-qohv891vLOXxpHFy2WRN7-FZ0h_QCb0CBuVZtKnQf0bJPi9AD5lv3Dfa7DIFCyFpLb7bdKn4uVq9tp7YwjYuQpqoiTpAyJL2RckGuhQR6hpGNyMl-7muBtz1UqbF4oALaKdXJjBu9jtYseB3uGkXcXWp3Y4ufNeAaQzBM418-ivA-N_TyjFC_D9O3gA/w300-h400/lauderdale%20hannah%20helen.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6EwPPEQrYfdguD3nhm_suLSCxm1LDWAuE7Py035J4D-jhxE-ZwGQ1P_qix7cTH1mXjfPkUcXtX4AdDHrJjd5NfvKFml2uT9dMbivrg62ktUMr-Z_mUsDF6i0Y02xOSkQEprH08DYXCV1G4IE_YYCZ8FrvgrttA7AQNaGfC3rEfcDSw4Mp53SFHtUOKY/s640/lauderdale%20elliot%20hannah%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="517" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6EwPPEQrYfdguD3nhm_suLSCxm1LDWAuE7Py035J4D-jhxE-ZwGQ1P_qix7cTH1mXjfPkUcXtX4AdDHrJjd5NfvKFml2uT9dMbivrg62ktUMr-Z_mUsDF6i0Y02xOSkQEprH08DYXCV1G4IE_YYCZ8FrvgrttA7AQNaGfC3rEfcDSw4Mp53SFHtUOKY/w518-h640/lauderdale%20elliot%20hannah%20-%201.jpeg" width="518" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdPb_xrYfe-obrzEpmXYOt5_TnGW1qG45N_Ew-gzudZrPsLGtqA2QwV7AGLWewI6RIk_-mwO5UwyGSGIEfUV21dtE0zkCa8t_xejEU22OiXbUcdpOVUcmsMl7fjzMptD8x0y0R-hqAw28rfiRnGWdQlMoIOUKbJmF2FWPhQa_mo1en9DPfazvORE-nOvI/s4032/lauderdale%20beer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdPb_xrYfe-obrzEpmXYOt5_TnGW1qG45N_Ew-gzudZrPsLGtqA2QwV7AGLWewI6RIk_-mwO5UwyGSGIEfUV21dtE0zkCa8t_xejEU22OiXbUcdpOVUcmsMl7fjzMptD8x0y0R-hqAw28rfiRnGWdQlMoIOUKbJmF2FWPhQa_mo1en9DPfazvORE-nOvI/w640-h480/lauderdale%20beer.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Curious about the tables on the sand, we venture around the
outdoor pub, and find ourselves facing the Aruba bar. It is an aha moment.
Further, the middle of the road is “under construction” the traffic stopper
that caused drivers to favour Oakland<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>over Commercial Avenue. All Businesses Open, say signs everywhere.
Restaurants, bars, gift and ice cream shops in a busy haven for visitors.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The next day we return to meet up with family, sip a draft
beer and linger over a meal as the night lights come on. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQABK4MmW1a55o9KJ1pqN_iqTFpNHJH8I9Hkxkn7ZdOn-zsIG51M3aVTn1CjFEAFgmTRzNAAUNo21-Ii_5m0a4NTbGjS9NZKoDTU6pbr1ZzTwyof3-cJwr-zLPjGVspJvm073PJSjF0csH4NZeDAS89TavsJjrS2ZLP0T_FVmkBF1A8JCz7w5FWbW9vo/s3022/lauderdale%20sue%20family%20and%20sisters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2845" data-original-width="3022" height="602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQABK4MmW1a55o9KJ1pqN_iqTFpNHJH8I9Hkxkn7ZdOn-zsIG51M3aVTn1CjFEAFgmTRzNAAUNo21-Ii_5m0a4NTbGjS9NZKoDTU6pbr1ZzTwyof3-cJwr-zLPjGVspJvm073PJSjF0csH4NZeDAS89TavsJjrS2ZLP0T_FVmkBF1A8JCz7w5FWbW9vo/w640-h602/lauderdale%20sue%20family%20and%20sisters.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-44200617039632786672023-10-07T14:48:00.001-04:002023-10-28T21:37:27.357-04:00Jouvay Everywhere!<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Stand on Manzanilla beach in Trinidad. Face directly east and watch as line after line of
restless surf rolls surely and relentlessly across the Atlantic from Africa.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH78ZDiIRxG0G1jx3YZOkz8wh8RpjrYykf5pUJJj1tyLow85RwahoAUKURIdgegcmAuLYiLepale9_fHlPO-5nDA0qicJVC3Q06vm2yi4saggLL6LLaPOtfKZ8HTSuTYxe3Ngs-vloUcrgyR8jSTXoGgUcvvxsUV4NycnMyULjBDbcvY-pVji-_EIaqpE/s640/sunrise%20leaping%20wave%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="529" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH78ZDiIRxG0G1jx3YZOkz8wh8RpjrYykf5pUJJj1tyLow85RwahoAUKURIdgegcmAuLYiLepale9_fHlPO-5nDA0qicJVC3Q06vm2yi4saggLL6LLaPOtfKZ8HTSuTYxe3Ngs-vloUcrgyR8jSTXoGgUcvvxsUV4NycnMyULjBDbcvY-pVji-_EIaqpE/w530-h640/sunrise%20leaping%20wave%20-%201.jpeg" width="530" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Stand on the east coast almost anywhere in the sub-tropical Americas. You
can imagine that you are buffeted by wind blowing off Africa (her continental
mass extends from above 30 degrees north to below 30 degrees south) bearing Sahara
dust.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbsddXufgHe2iITexsIG2F3uy922mWfTKMUJKeuTAb4-u4c1PN2kn-FIy4ZnNyeafNQUHxD02zwOK47qBZAD2ruta8VSQpKb8svjnKLD85L-sEol5Cb3_mH7j3D5EDSOVROY8IVjO4Ro8A5vNLuOoCW8UHb-cVHjfic3lzJtvuXbHDnmPjJoNusz8Yjyk/s640/sunrise%20skyscrapers%20B%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="417" data-original-width="640" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbsddXufgHe2iITexsIG2F3uy922mWfTKMUJKeuTAb4-u4c1PN2kn-FIy4ZnNyeafNQUHxD02zwOK47qBZAD2ruta8VSQpKb8svjnKLD85L-sEol5Cb3_mH7j3D5EDSOVROY8IVjO4Ro8A5vNLuOoCW8UHb-cVHjfic3lzJtvuXbHDnmPjJoNusz8Yjyk/w640-h418/sunrise%20skyscrapers%20B%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This week, we stood on the Florida coast and felt the power
of storms in the mid-Atlantic. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia –
no threat to any land – was churning her way north, roiling the upper
atmosphere causing clouds to mass and pile, blotting the full moon. Storms
swirled pushing sheets of rain ashore, throwing distant lightning and cracking
thunder. Days after, the wind made merry with the trees, and pushed the waves
into whitecaps, keeping us out of the water combing the sand for shells.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </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/AVvXsEjZZ_Ix8jMGC_AuKyaEC0kizctgBFGg9PJQWXa4u2l-8sYoEw8tXtDt1-19T4e-ZBfeFZocES6IG5qqIprLwzN1pSrjGZBIO_nYLNT5yU7ngrLhNb54ZDk9lenU1LUs9232gMGatMBZ8SAaBvxzjyL68T1WkvdEDHqxMzmTBAYyG-Rr5uovC6gdf4KHuXQ/s2931/sunrise%20margaret%20helen.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2198" data-original-width="2931" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZZ_Ix8jMGC_AuKyaEC0kizctgBFGg9PJQWXa4u2l-8sYoEw8tXtDt1-19T4e-ZBfeFZocES6IG5qqIprLwzN1pSrjGZBIO_nYLNT5yU7ngrLhNb54ZDk9lenU1LUs9232gMGatMBZ8SAaBvxzjyL68T1WkvdEDHqxMzmTBAYyG-Rr5uovC6gdf4KHuXQ/w400-h300/sunrise%20margaret%20helen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Lauderdale – an extension from Miami – lies behind a canyon
of skyscrapers with narrow gaps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Think
of us here. In the early morning, some of us walked in the neighbourhood.
Others stood on the beach gazing out to sea, watchers in the ancient ceremony
of sunrise.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">East is east and west is west and never the twain shall
meet, said Rudyard Kipling. But surely as the sun rises, daylight spreads everywhere
til east goes west. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">“Make a ritual of the sunrise, Jouvay forever!” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>said Tony Hall.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </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/AVvXsEj6DVNvyLo-w_JbirMz8MMraov0_51Anakwazv0inSUrJjOpT31d8UU0fXucXQM82UYjdCxbIT3L5HcbwhbHRJ8R3Tm8mO4n0XzwTTDDX2olF2AjPSIcIdX9nNxtdsUej06gtcU-k8E4-s5fpbmmRPbhLZEPpEpowuvTkgAUfkuHKKQEBgN6sVrqCfVArc/s4032/sunrise%20moon.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6DVNvyLo-w_JbirMz8MMraov0_51Anakwazv0inSUrJjOpT31d8UU0fXucXQM82UYjdCxbIT3L5HcbwhbHRJ8R3Tm8mO4n0XzwTTDDX2olF2AjPSIcIdX9nNxtdsUej06gtcU-k8E4-s5fpbmmRPbhLZEPpEpowuvTkgAUfkuHKKQEBgN6sVrqCfVArc/w480-h640/sunrise%20moon.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fo' day morning and the full moon is still out<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /> </p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-20599285033515627612023-09-08T21:21:00.000-04:002023-09-08T21:21:37.979-04:00August days on Man-o-War Bay<p class="MsoNormal">Caribbean states are now talking about better connections
among the territories.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But there are so few – none? - passenger boats plying the
region. What did the letter in the newspaper say, “In order to stimulate trade
and provide economical transportation of goods we need reliable and clean
ships. Specifically, we require five new RO/PAX – or roll-on-roll-off passenger
ships. Regularly scheduled cargo and freight movement will stimulate all of our
economies and provide additional revenue, create thousands of jobs and make
this part of the world a better place.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(<a href="https://newsday.co.tt/2023/09/05/five-ships-and-a-tobago-ferry/">https://newsday.co.tt/2023/09/05/five-ships-and-a-tobago-ferry/</a>)</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> The daughter’s diving crew takes the ferry between Tobago
and Trinidad every month. Others shuttle to and from Tobago on a regular basis: employment, business, building a house, or just to relax.<br />
</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </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/AVvXsEhmGgMYHNbRZ7LmjZP-mD5ut1t7bqGrUxCAV_jlkRLjvlwYoOud38CknUPm9QK01GeH4MdRrMNtM3JM3K_1Y1H4RTFWWdWh4_oBky25Fhi67DIv_I8lgEGBixAD7iM9HccyHZAVOrDs4lcBGtdDsD1uxj4bAO00rVxupbEMqL4wYrrx55GW7TjRZ6DZ6jA/s640/buccoo%20reef%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmGgMYHNbRZ7LmjZP-mD5ut1t7bqGrUxCAV_jlkRLjvlwYoOud38CknUPm9QK01GeH4MdRrMNtM3JM3K_1Y1H4RTFWWdWh4_oBky25Fhi67DIv_I8lgEGBixAD7iM9HccyHZAVOrDs4lcBGtdDsD1uxj4bAO00rVxupbEMqL4wYrrx55GW7TjRZ6DZ6jA/w640-h480/buccoo%20reef%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loading the Buccoo Reef at Scarborough<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We arrive at the loading dock at Port of Spain this Sunday afternoon in
August. When everything goes according to plan, it is orderly and uneventful. Everyone
with a ticket gets on. On slow rolling seas, there’s something safe and sturdy
about being in a broad bottomed ship with hundreds of others, passing the
islands in the Bocas, making out Maracas, Las Cuevas, Blanchisseuse and
rounding Toco. And in heavy weather as dark descends, catching the lights at
the south end of Tobago to glide into the safe harbour of Scarborough.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> Ah Tobago. Along the east coast the Windward Road rises
steadily from Studley Park and winds through village after village Goodwood,
Belle Garden, Roxborough, Delaford, with the sea on your right. At Speyside, the
road over the Main Ridge winds steeply; at Flagstaff begins the rapid descent
to Charlotteville.
</p><p class="MsoNormal"> We reach the Man-o-War Bay cottage after dark. The sea murmurs a
susurration. We fall asleep and some time in the night, rain drums
the galvanise roof and makes a rondo with the waves.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></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/AVvXsEj5hSka_Qn7CNGUXAw6sDafDLCSmksQCIoODuKttwXyeDuG1THCORtcvklDWcpwMVWygMOsHaPtXkHwluxDY-8iN98r9x7ZyWEcBaDnGkoX_nrcwFzLtCCho0FObY5YAdgSEtEJioNL5aN8ecTbqc6UGRf5BYaAQzbiI-vSpH-NylaOqrUnX1a0ZfowO6g/s4032/pulling%20seine.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5hSka_Qn7CNGUXAw6sDafDLCSmksQCIoODuKttwXyeDuG1THCORtcvklDWcpwMVWygMOsHaPtXkHwluxDY-8iN98r9x7ZyWEcBaDnGkoX_nrcwFzLtCCho0FObY5YAdgSEtEJioNL5aN8ecTbqc6UGRf5BYaAQzbiI-vSpH-NylaOqrUnX1a0ZfowO6g/w640-h480/pulling%20seine.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pulling seine<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Time flows differently here. Chacalacas herald the dawn with
cries like somebody is doing them harm. In the hour, the oropendolas leave
their roosts with whirrs and whoosh; then parrots cross the sky chattering in
the sun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two pirogues circle the bay,
setting out a seine. And we amble over as the net full of silver is pulled ashore.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> The days stretch out. We walk to the red shop on the corner,
to the vegetable stall, to the library for wifi, up the hill in search of a vet
for an injured Charlotteville pup. All dogs in Charlotteville are well-mannered
and friendly; everybody’s pets. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></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/AVvXsEi_umNW1ErUHsnD-_iuWTEibSPMSeGACTXLtlMyHHLoxwCbCtQS4mFynwvrrnb28QVOnWAnoQWQ4kpwIEKceY64x97D85nf7-yORcMAsFCCw8r1hbnjZvcoZrTuH7j5td4FGGNlFJ1EUSTUzOB0KsibDcqjzrTNw_QCnBUJnPqMKYHmDgAS2gRC0esfED0/s1280/bunty%20rory%20in%20the%20bay%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_umNW1ErUHsnD-_iuWTEibSPMSeGACTXLtlMyHHLoxwCbCtQS4mFynwvrrnb28QVOnWAnoQWQ4kpwIEKceY64x97D85nf7-yORcMAsFCCw8r1hbnjZvcoZrTuH7j5td4FGGNlFJ1EUSTUzOB0KsibDcqjzrTNw_QCnBUJnPqMKYHmDgAS2gRC0esfED0/w400-h300/bunty%20rory%20in%20the%20bay%20-%201.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anniversary days for Bunty and Rory<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Hours are punctuated by floating in the bay between sky and
sea, eyes to the green mountain above the shore. By kayak we skim on a rolling sea over clear sandy bottom and mottled rocks
and bumpy corals.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As the setting sun paints the sky in
pink and mauve, the oropendolas return to roost. The waxing moon stands on the shoulder of the hill; five
nights later, she is overhead full face dimming the Milky Way.
</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </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/AVvXsEis3_ZH_gSSBf7rGmMtIPwUgepUwQEXA8V6OH7oHAnfSUHlM6egq89TjKWoGy_niHABfC378iAuedTzcfgqI7zti7ZPZCLHVDywKWPGGJGe2WQtPzpt_Bdf3BHWfvLAIXg8IO1Fnyi7SWfB-AnZ79rjlPntiE24hXhh52UBSLHIISDMDWfPEFfflWcyX2M/s4032/rory%20birthday.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis3_ZH_gSSBf7rGmMtIPwUgepUwQEXA8V6OH7oHAnfSUHlM6egq89TjKWoGy_niHABfC378iAuedTzcfgqI7zti7ZPZCLHVDywKWPGGJGe2WQtPzpt_Bdf3BHWfvLAIXg8IO1Fnyi7SWfB-AnZ79rjlPntiE24hXhh52UBSLHIISDMDWfPEFfflWcyX2M/w400-h300/rory%20birthday.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rory and his cake<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><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/AVvXsEh2QGa89SFv9uVVDrbSz4w_A0xWv5iWfdKTryr2jBLrMT6ybkhuR4NBWqxESWJzA1ZHULzFwBFgdIxAXWYp3bVBAla1q-0T7SK0S5HI2IvZm1DXDJX5vgjQ5cVP4n_07KJUjblUnfXdzp_Dx5Mazjat94lji6nytDrhmJ1BNhsYRXyeGt6ZEPCDzz69QJU/s1024/rory%20party%20ppl.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2QGa89SFv9uVVDrbSz4w_A0xWv5iWfdKTryr2jBLrMT6ybkhuR4NBWqxESWJzA1ZHULzFwBFgdIxAXWYp3bVBAla1q-0T7SK0S5HI2IvZm1DXDJX5vgjQ5cVP4n_07KJUjblUnfXdzp_Dx5Mazjat94lji6nytDrhmJ1BNhsYRXyeGt6ZEPCDzz69QJU/w480-h640/rory%20party%20ppl.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birthday party for Rory<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />
<p class="MsoNormal">We mark time out of time with a birthday and
anniversary. Lehron brings fish fresh caught off Roxborough and his news of the
boat he’s building. Lindsay and Ayla soon to fly away to Canada maintain Mary’s
tradition of a day by the sea with old friends. Zolani takes us from the sun soaked
coast to the cool trails of the rainforest. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The day before we leave, there’s a golden rim of sargassum
on the beach. Shorebirds peck at the frills. Maurice is at work on one of the
big calabashes Bunty brought from Trinidad trees; he says he made eight
chac-chacs the day before. Priya is not yet on the bay and we note the solar
panels on the corners of her shop.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></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/AVvXsEhhQ6lWHxO1bHVG6NrlgdzPwWT5p4UYsHH7YWPLeuYIjNnLFqAtL2R00THz2NkQz3SRoeDEWKkiH0Y-QMBWninK9nGTCbMqUw6HmuKcOA_gQrnSFd9bTvSwcgk8Pgg8zR0B8Sg83Qve-s9dR1atFbTMhtvBkw3gOET42J-fa9krO-1RdpMk3e-qYiDu5-4/s4032/golden%20tide.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhQ6lWHxO1bHVG6NrlgdzPwWT5p4UYsHH7YWPLeuYIjNnLFqAtL2R00THz2NkQz3SRoeDEWKkiH0Y-QMBWninK9nGTCbMqUw6HmuKcOA_gQrnSFd9bTvSwcgk8Pgg8zR0B8Sg83Qve-s9dR1atFbTMhtvBkw3gOET42J-fa9krO-1RdpMk3e-qYiDu5-4/w640-h480/golden%20tide.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sargassum on Charlotteville beach<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Miss Pat is chipper in her home on the hill. She’s due for a
procedure to correct the surgery to correct her eyes. She remains hopeful, gifting
us zabocas from her laden tree. We have eaten well this week: breadfruit
from the garden, fish fried and in broth, avocados, guavas and sea grapes! Soon
it’s time for the drive along the length of Tobago to the ferry back to
Trinidad, a day’s journey. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> We set out.
</p><p class="MsoNormal">We arrive.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We journey back.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If the shorebirds spend most of their time fattening on our
beaches, are they Arctic (where they are born) or Caribbean? Faraaz asks.<br />
Constantly coming from and going to, are we defined by where we started or where
we choose to spend our days? Surely, we already belong anywhere and now must be
re-connected everywhere.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"></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/AVvXsEjq0nlqI3n-WSplE3qpceMtg0MLu__69YfYvVPxGheOvXwe0itqAiFu7BgsImsn9fxCwslF6rLM7DDQ8K2lCyOhvebSn6-tPb7cO0Vx8ikjG7zu6QJsFxbeR6MmiiXhBZdynqj2cq8hhtOyItvoUo1WKjEacpyjRsP2HuVp3DLLLOqCeIkA9wpWLuvur1Q/s3824/fishing%20boats.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3824" data-original-width="2868" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq0nlqI3n-WSplE3qpceMtg0MLu__69YfYvVPxGheOvXwe0itqAiFu7BgsImsn9fxCwslF6rLM7DDQ8K2lCyOhvebSn6-tPb7cO0Vx8ikjG7zu6QJsFxbeR6MmiiXhBZdynqj2cq8hhtOyItvoUo1WKjEacpyjRsP2HuVp3DLLLOqCeIkA9wpWLuvur1Q/w480-h640/fishing%20boats.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The fishing fleet of Charlotteville <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Other events in this week are recorded here: <br /></p>https://wildtobago.blogspot.com/2023/09/a-walk-in-tobago-biosphere.html<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p><style>@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-5182816739333805582023-08-02T16:04:00.001-04:002023-08-02T16:15:06.825-04:00The Miseducation of Max<p>
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">High above Mt Irvine, we visited the castle - now a museum -
that Luise Kimme built to house her sculptures. Though the afternoon was hot and sweaty,
Max played statues with Aunty Anj.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Then he shook hands with a dancer and wondered why the Soucouyant
had so many legs.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>(Photos by Leah White-Ganase, Orion Ganase, Pat Ganase) </i><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"></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/AVvXsEgbddjjzXv70gHq5_O8adDTDnHqr5qo1NxrYuh0ZeqEXPjbpzU9eZQ7d4FzkBiMgA_y4jrsK582tzscwdoYieFO8H4X_EbB-cUru-NxD9ISm-QBq_CF3_QJU2f06f9ZvGIAzoyCqUa_p_5MGyqRUiIihDiTegfHOYT5whbimFELiaPNch3pVyCB9KZbuvg/s640/max%20kimme%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="545" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbddjjzXv70gHq5_O8adDTDnHqr5qo1NxrYuh0ZeqEXPjbpzU9eZQ7d4FzkBiMgA_y4jrsK582tzscwdoYieFO8H4X_EbB-cUru-NxD9ISm-QBq_CF3_QJU2f06f9ZvGIAzoyCqUa_p_5MGyqRUiIihDiTegfHOYT5whbimFELiaPNch3pVyCB9KZbuvg/w546-h640/max%20kimme%20-%201.jpeg" width="546" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing statues<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/AVvXsEhz86QlHqNtCVFI4xKfAdmPMLXNBs8B4m8wH7Uagp8Dl3iTYhwqXf70vcqUnXW01CDU14yG6ZrBTD-CdJmC8C2JR9b_ZMGAI2-r6_ChO6oYiSN9rkB0CiMQCSNKHOKZdc0Prp2TXbMxkEPBXAANx_2xpa4m7AK0TwWf-C9thlTdmCrE53cto1asAcFLeps/s640/max%20kimme%20-%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz86QlHqNtCVFI4xKfAdmPMLXNBs8B4m8wH7Uagp8Dl3iTYhwqXf70vcqUnXW01CDU14yG6ZrBTD-CdJmC8C2JR9b_ZMGAI2-r6_ChO6oYiSN9rkB0CiMQCSNKHOKZdc0Prp2TXbMxkEPBXAANx_2xpa4m7AK0TwWf-C9thlTdmCrE53cto1asAcFLeps/w300-h400/max%20kimme%20-%202.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pleased to meet you<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/AVvXsEimWu89s11tFK9KgtqEBeP2tszoHKWwEQCu_WHgJTT2qnsgLsddlIU56HY3UGlV-6O7RwrQ85ccEUHmECPj9klgbIImtYAZVcPw-2R3HllISnMmGkQqoKM5eWntwqYyH7ZaAM4LpWWlIrZO-9-6IDijpSAqWGGlvpDVaWw9CoTpnu2EqyiLrsBNEkT3wVY/s640/max%20kimme%20-%203.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimWu89s11tFK9KgtqEBeP2tszoHKWwEQCu_WHgJTT2qnsgLsddlIU56HY3UGlV-6O7RwrQ85ccEUHmECPj9klgbIImtYAZVcPw-2R3HllISnMmGkQqoKM5eWntwqYyH7ZaAM4LpWWlIrZO-9-6IDijpSAqWGGlvpDVaWw9CoTpnu2EqyiLrsBNEkT3wVY/w300-h400/max%20kimme%20-%203.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Max and Soucouyant<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /> <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8N0yJMMz1GMM1KrF-mzhWIKLJd76Zptd87m03RKezRKsvN5j8PIUAxwv25-CMZLVrSmU-8MOlqobtkvohmIyf1YoawxHcd6DaWsFtczJOHI18Y_GDp3mzLZc2g_KMCjfT8JlA-LwYwKzsdJIGBMsabVgtQ2t-_dW1BXaBRQaQYrk51Zpf77CXbzVY1XA/s640/max%20mummy%20cocrico%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8N0yJMMz1GMM1KrF-mzhWIKLJd76Zptd87m03RKezRKsvN5j8PIUAxwv25-CMZLVrSmU-8MOlqobtkvohmIyf1YoawxHcd6DaWsFtczJOHI18Y_GDp3mzLZc2g_KMCjfT8JlA-LwYwKzsdJIGBMsabVgtQ2t-_dW1BXaBRQaQYrk51Zpf77CXbzVY1XA/w480-h640/max%20mummy%20cocrico%20-%201.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br />
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He rode the jetski at Pigeon Point, not going too fast though
Daddy said, you’re supposed to go fast. He rode in the back of Nick’s pick up;
and wanted to know,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Would the police stop us?”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaKXbYCmVGDaa-P3yqD-xjVIYQM91PPhCXTrZI4xWSRygK1rTnIWtniERVm6XW_wPL5mhlzaYBKyZIw-8y8M0UxlEABD6ntNeqLWvu2fslCJZJEdjEY5aYrLI8dMXNksmN5MVXCDapF0yuo0R3pFZ28IjOl3w7Aed_tFQAPNtrXRpeK93BZXMp3dGTDm0/s640/max%20pick%20up%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaKXbYCmVGDaa-P3yqD-xjVIYQM91PPhCXTrZI4xWSRygK1rTnIWtniERVm6XW_wPL5mhlzaYBKyZIw-8y8M0UxlEABD6ntNeqLWvu2fslCJZJEdjEY5aYrLI8dMXNksmN5MVXCDapF0yuo0R3pFZ28IjOl3w7Aed_tFQAPNtrXRpeK93BZXMp3dGTDm0/w480-h640/max%20pick%20up%20-%201.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Apoo, Anj and Mummy played the card game Sequence.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What does Sequence mean? </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In a row.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the game, it means getting five in a row on the board. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Jacks are wild.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">One-eyed Jacks remove a card from the board.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Two-eyed Jacks can become any card.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Max was fascinated with the Jacks. He hooted whenever a Jack was drawn! He decided to learn the game by sitting with a different
player for each game.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He tried to shuffle the pack (two packs of cards together); and made it easier by extracting the Jacks in his own pile.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></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/AVvXsEj8Z62Pmn_HSUN07Ojp7YA6bb6kur-4jFs6RTvd6Epa5mJfd1ppnupWkDFHjxSubs-nLbu8Up2g_TRHcDanA7HEpqvLpn7PTxeegCZmc-GOpsZnsaPBJ-3vYFMYCsLvOc0PVMSt-gwUvrifhYoUk37LGubXrHXzOUp7HNlasK70RnPynLWTXLesuEnWr1U/s640/max%20sequence%20-%201.jpeg" 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/AVvXsEj8Z62Pmn_HSUN07Ojp7YA6bb6kur-4jFs6RTvd6Epa5mJfd1ppnupWkDFHjxSubs-nLbu8Up2g_TRHcDanA7HEpqvLpn7PTxeegCZmc-GOpsZnsaPBJ-3vYFMYCsLvOc0PVMSt-gwUvrifhYoUk37LGubXrHXzOUp7HNlasK70RnPynLWTXLesuEnWr1U/s320/max%20sequence%20-%201.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poker faces!<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/AVvXsEiaArs5xKW5jrJu4fT2jCl_67e7ajVWnzuczVm9haad6HBV2Q6t5KpuKtr-m-sblTRYcrgcYiymiVnziiSdzLkIlWp9oNSu3chexz6hBkK-dcZ8kqLQiX-a_CUIJPXlJNxpbsEvo4elQ_6GN6phHANKDXzssVMc93UnEzIEwbJssQKzjJMF-igIl26X00Y/s640/max%20sequence%20-%202.jpeg" 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/AVvXsEiaArs5xKW5jrJu4fT2jCl_67e7ajVWnzuczVm9haad6HBV2Q6t5KpuKtr-m-sblTRYcrgcYiymiVnziiSdzLkIlWp9oNSu3chexz6hBkK-dcZ8kqLQiX-a_CUIJPXlJNxpbsEvo4elQ_6GN6phHANKDXzssVMc93UnEzIEwbJssQKzjJMF-igIl26X00Y/s320/max%20sequence%20-%202.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't show the cards!!!<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/AVvXsEiLy2S6XBF9ruK0HRPlBVHVphWd7d0w5R70S2d2J12StRvxKP-lB_tgn5T1wVxmtdI1diOR18ktonk0YQlPbSavnMA81Jz8QaQQFngWrDLCq4blRItcXvWvetbKkkwhBLsn2I1n4YZf-AxMowfgI0qIwGKCf5mCQFmlggXreaDykFJw5ZTAE5B8Tc7XD8k/s640/max%20sequence%20-%203.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="640" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLy2S6XBF9ruK0HRPlBVHVphWd7d0w5R70S2d2J12StRvxKP-lB_tgn5T1wVxmtdI1diOR18ktonk0YQlPbSavnMA81Jz8QaQQFngWrDLCq4blRItcXvWvetbKkkwhBLsn2I1n4YZf-AxMowfgI0qIwGKCf5mCQFmlggXreaDykFJw5ZTAE5B8Tc7XD8k/w400-h344/max%20sequence%20-%203.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thinking thinking... which card?<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At the meditation and yoga ajoupa in Kariwak:</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I know this place. I’ve seen it in a picture.”<br />
So he sat in the middle, just like PopPop and Apo in their photo.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXYBvivg4JiZNtgXqp530kUtU2L8-XZ5uAhmp0sdjSbp4xg9F0bF5tS3mFwOz4LmLpbiaAE8pw9pcR6vlP94-MZWaO-GOHHIaL31296TaBsYBR80vDh0HjAWg2rDm4_vDDrTCMGZwJ1dxcrrmioUGk2dcLs6OBVQ6mMhdAmymyQ6KYgeJONHMnwkFSwaw/s640/max%20ajoupa%20kariwak%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXYBvivg4JiZNtgXqp530kUtU2L8-XZ5uAhmp0sdjSbp4xg9F0bF5tS3mFwOz4LmLpbiaAE8pw9pcR6vlP94-MZWaO-GOHHIaL31296TaBsYBR80vDh0HjAWg2rDm4_vDDrTCMGZwJ1dxcrrmioUGk2dcLs6OBVQ6mMhdAmymyQ6KYgeJONHMnwkFSwaw/w640-h480/max%20ajoupa%20kariwak%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Daddy gave him this riddle: What did Sparrow say when he
thought he was going blind?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Whoo dey?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whoo dey…
ooh ooh?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Oh, you mean he was saying Who’s there? Who’s there?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirK9ktsRBLXmTxT8hXEUxDggw_ExCmFk_8q6BA2xGAnRP7v3cxmafq5YqDUJWwGprvUoUgHRaz5JkPXXeNjs6_HcEcxP-Qnhzg9FiSaWbyfrMcZpEXd3A6KCJbS-bFEd7rq0riiZctBjjTzz1HcVXT7KD1UkeizOX2PdrNmiS9P1RkEDVFE-tTOgfl71Y/s640/max%20orion%20leah%20topaz%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirK9ktsRBLXmTxT8hXEUxDggw_ExCmFk_8q6BA2xGAnRP7v3cxmafq5YqDUJWwGprvUoUgHRaz5JkPXXeNjs6_HcEcxP-Qnhzg9FiSaWbyfrMcZpEXd3A6KCJbS-bFEd7rq0riiZctBjjTzz1HcVXT7KD1UkeizOX2PdrNmiS9P1RkEDVFE-tTOgfl71Y/w640-h480/max%20orion%20leah%20topaz%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-42454462896793536152023-08-01T12:02:00.002-04:002023-08-02T16:13:51.447-04:00AquaBoy and Tobago Beach Days<div style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;">When you live on an island the sea is all around.
</div><p class="MsoNormal">Some islands are so big you hardly get to the coast, and if
you do go, it’s a long trek.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But even on some smaller islands, people don’t make it to the
shore that often.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Of course, the best islands are those with beaches so near
and so inviting that you find yourself to the sea, a different stretch of the
sea, a different beach, every day and sometimes many times in a day.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>(Photos by Anjani Ganase, Leah White-Ganase, Pat Ganase) </i><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp1lbwqKLjD-7uoUj-ig9NNyynW85LX5ufPWV1Htzef6Y11KLYCxD53_kF-TJeehb_tgfJS9DFfSS7CbP5NcgqmYwvNJxcP2d9kVWcu8RmpcgppEGp6RBApGQMumq9e_HM07KJ1S4genxCZxSLG4hF7Eqrq62Sc660n7veRZGR_gK1o_ctC8im9yL4cEE/s640/max%20family%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp1lbwqKLjD-7uoUj-ig9NNyynW85LX5ufPWV1Htzef6Y11KLYCxD53_kF-TJeehb_tgfJS9DFfSS7CbP5NcgqmYwvNJxcP2d9kVWcu8RmpcgppEGp6RBApGQMumq9e_HM07KJ1S4genxCZxSLG4hF7Eqrq62Sc660n7veRZGR_gK1o_ctC8im9yL4cEE/w480-h640/max%20family%20-%201.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Jaeger Max aka AquaBoy often leaves his big island, England,
with its cold seas to find warm beaches. He has visited many islands in Europe.
But he comes to the Caribbean to find an island just right, warm sand, cool
ocean and lively underwater reefs to explore.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </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/AVvXsEj2XYH35CqC47HtXCQysNNSY8MoM_GhSJyZNKzzrKCJhOkfypyRel9pbziyY7v-G96Spra2JGcGzbGJhMtffmdLIPrb3_t6mPO43kcsbqiue1VJdRvxhjDKiWMNyH7qQGLif5gK1_IEU9g8MW4GTC_t8WnhvsUpfz9Yt-_qElCc0QknPfWFiw4N2yDjsjA/s640/max%20mt%20irvine%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2XYH35CqC47HtXCQysNNSY8MoM_GhSJyZNKzzrKCJhOkfypyRel9pbziyY7v-G96Spra2JGcGzbGJhMtffmdLIPrb3_t6mPO43kcsbqiue1VJdRvxhjDKiWMNyH7qQGLif5gK1_IEU9g8MW4GTC_t8WnhvsUpfz9Yt-_qElCc0QknPfWFiw4N2yDjsjA/w480-h640/max%20mt%20irvine%20-%201.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt Irvine snorkelling<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The surfers’ bay, Mt Irvine, is calm in July.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He takes a first ocean dip with Aqua Aunty. Then later with
snorkel and fins, he goes far out in the bay with AquaDad. A giant black urchin
hides in the coral. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The next day, AquaBoy wakes up with a sore throat and barely
has breakfast. Will he find another beach today, or won’t he? Out on the water of
Buccoo, he brightens from the sea glow as he peers through the glass to the
bottom of the bay. Maybe there will be magic after all. The captain of Solo
Amor with his trusty crew will not wander aimless as Odysseus. He knows where
the kraken lives. He goes to the homes of fire coral, giant boulder corals, angelfish
and shark. A ray shimmies under the sand; and parrot fish peck algae from the underside
of the glass bottomed boat. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM30z-cfUxeO_vOpsViMnPS3GKogCK2yP0nqbD92t5ibgz5hw6QN8T9oJCuEw4vtcWmAmwNFf6c2So98WIxYK01Nx7wEh_ZnScBqYjUGm_F2ULR8XZVr5gCqfjbJAiwljoj--4jzd_rFqXHVBEGO_naGQE0DHAjRjTalbQN9ielLtMbAwJRKRRY_QV39Y/s640/Max%20looking%20deep%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM30z-cfUxeO_vOpsViMnPS3GKogCK2yP0nqbD92t5ibgz5hw6QN8T9oJCuEw4vtcWmAmwNFf6c2So98WIxYK01Nx7wEh_ZnScBqYjUGm_F2ULR8XZVr5gCqfjbJAiwljoj--4jzd_rFqXHVBEGO_naGQE0DHAjRjTalbQN9ielLtMbAwJRKRRY_QV39Y/w480-h640/Max%20looking%20deep%20-%201.jpeg" width="480" /></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/AVvXsEi5YtVeZlAvo5iIDOYcfu0gIr7Wdwf2ouuZUNCnLfe30SKAq1da0scyuI8xZ97T_oN6zIyOU5bsrS5dtpevPPVrOqZFjfbUPZCf-xrylZrg8I5R0a5XXw4WmuP2dvfssoHw8RAKy_chiyJQ-M6FI3vivCb2j9SNMvZQCCuJcbuq5LLLQODnLdQ2eIbnDKw/s640/max%20boat%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YtVeZlAvo5iIDOYcfu0gIr7Wdwf2ouuZUNCnLfe30SKAq1da0scyuI8xZ97T_oN6zIyOU5bsrS5dtpevPPVrOqZFjfbUPZCf-xrylZrg8I5R0a5XXw4WmuP2dvfssoHw8RAKy_chiyJQ-M6FI3vivCb2j9SNMvZQCCuJcbuq5LLLQODnLdQ2eIbnDKw/w480-h640/max%20boat%20-%201.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Solo Amor with Captain Edgar Johnson<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Hold the rope. Hang on to the ring. AnchorDad holds rope and
ring and stretches to catch AquaBoy swimming free. The visitors to the
underwater realm are towed from one area of the Buccoo Reef marine park to the
next, skimming green water startling turtles, fish and stirring sea grass. On
sandy spits, the sea ripples with the wind and water is clear as the sky. Aren’t
we the most fortunate travellers, able to hang between sea and sky, creatures
of air and water?</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqLnTMAQ71_DZYJfuhUDAX7qhJ7Y6JKVPmkEsZCuIZw_9I178dqlGbXze2Gc-3bsWAywE6s90emanw2Rpi35Ka3OAPRJSigj2XK2XavnwOcfeYN1CiXDfVlvxTHVaEK9ebGmt01hszPWH3Jzn6MgDZKZyeD2mQnu_MWVb23l5tIKUwQ-7JUFaZr1viQDQ/s2704/max%20Orion%20Max%20AG.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1521" data-original-width="2704" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqLnTMAQ71_DZYJfuhUDAX7qhJ7Y6JKVPmkEsZCuIZw_9I178dqlGbXze2Gc-3bsWAywE6s90emanw2Rpi35Ka3OAPRJSigj2XK2XavnwOcfeYN1CiXDfVlvxTHVaEK9ebGmt01hszPWH3Jzn6MgDZKZyeD2mQnu_MWVb23l5tIKUwQ-7JUFaZr1viQDQ/w640-h360/max%20Orion%20Max%20AG.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlekUcJgOiUsL3DuIbnqqiYcl3ba8cE0Vo0zqUbArKiGkT2M1bI-jCq7jsnjjcrVJe8KilWOkeZiB0CpeUJfCttIEzqs1YqAyxEkWz_fK7utOzzVsXtZCpuvChkm4HYPEF_msLoeaRVC0w29XUZVsah1Sy9M1Ej13_jjXE7OcDlExBpnK63x_8fcRQrlU/s2704/maxx%20underwater%20AG.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1521" data-original-width="2704" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlekUcJgOiUsL3DuIbnqqiYcl3ba8cE0Vo0zqUbArKiGkT2M1bI-jCq7jsnjjcrVJe8KilWOkeZiB0CpeUJfCttIEzqs1YqAyxEkWz_fK7utOzzVsXtZCpuvChkm4HYPEF_msLoeaRVC0w29XUZVsah1Sy9M1Ej13_jjXE7OcDlExBpnK63x_8fcRQrlU/w640-h360/maxx%20underwater%20AG.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUYetXZsf7J9vwt_t3ecU4iAki5Ss9m1-SknwPv1XZlzu6guWGblvszniu3rKCgg3ybA4E3ggjZxogdxRpx3tAyYseQ14Rc4Cij8Pc2Dx9NRn95558DB98bZuwnyd3JeWuXHgx82lM3g5Uc705lyWmo0Z6fl1aIPsYQusnsVRAPAH21GsBkF2R4SYV8s/s2704/max%20underwater%20ballet.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1521" data-original-width="2704" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUYetXZsf7J9vwt_t3ecU4iAki5Ss9m1-SknwPv1XZlzu6guWGblvszniu3rKCgg3ybA4E3ggjZxogdxRpx3tAyYseQ14Rc4Cij8Pc2Dx9NRn95558DB98bZuwnyd3JeWuXHgx82lM3g5Uc705lyWmo0Z6fl1aIPsYQusnsVRAPAH21GsBkF2R4SYV8s/w640-h360/max%20underwater%20ballet.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTkLRQKSMPWNacpoH5s0XuDgFO1t2ex2U88D5YRGl1f4S0NMGQvQFW39TbwcweVXQwtoOnljcFxb4CN4cawRW_-MD01J3AeeXryGB_YB2cSQbJ52riHWy63ptX1YjP18ZAvbCzUfbYZW4dU5CgzjMhiXxpsBCvPGpGMRcSPrwXcHA3O8Q6CPg9vE2QRP8/s2704/rmax%20iding%20the%20ring%20AG.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2704" data-original-width="1521" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTkLRQKSMPWNacpoH5s0XuDgFO1t2ex2U88D5YRGl1f4S0NMGQvQFW39TbwcweVXQwtoOnljcFxb4CN4cawRW_-MD01J3AeeXryGB_YB2cSQbJ52riHWy63ptX1YjP18ZAvbCzUfbYZW4dU5CgzjMhiXxpsBCvPGpGMRcSPrwXcHA3O8Q6CPg9vE2QRP8/w360-h640/rmax%20iding%20the%20ring%20AG.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrrdEj4ond4JEeSzGzQEmR-LXWY8dCx8vlR4z4azXRNGIWKEJKsfgUBl_EAFywVJbp-ibZwXbSwLOA_A-0ZaQAIPdv6GtkzmUVpg_Nx_ZxUsXC0Rd-mkj0LHrz5fJ-EZ85cNorau6T_y_vnUcdqpuwzcvrriA-J_e0zgHtOip0C7qkvlfgnt83Q8e5kY/s640/max%20leah%20nylon%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrrdEj4ond4JEeSzGzQEmR-LXWY8dCx8vlR4z4azXRNGIWKEJKsfgUBl_EAFywVJbp-ibZwXbSwLOA_A-0ZaQAIPdv6GtkzmUVpg_Nx_ZxUsXC0Rd-mkj0LHrz5fJ-EZ85cNorau6T_y_vnUcdqpuwzcvrriA-J_e0zgHtOip0C7qkvlfgnt83Q8e5kY/w640-h480/max%20leah%20nylon%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></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/AVvXsEiOygl7eUVb8TtFboKFZiTy72iK_LemaaB4Os_G4ZPY6yEGYZEtLWRj7lkAYwlmS_Yf7zGt-4iGQ5q3f_4hyhhkb2NS4bcWhDJwiipG1GLHvHnyvEUsaJ7U_U1Kys1Zdlw4v3sgK0YvAx9sZGYGCQ7iVUPWqVgYwiBKO56VszzUANw6XCxjmzFi9FV7V-E/s640/max%20daddy%20toes%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="550" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOygl7eUVb8TtFboKFZiTy72iK_LemaaB4Os_G4ZPY6yEGYZEtLWRj7lkAYwlmS_Yf7zGt-4iGQ5q3f_4hyhhkb2NS4bcWhDJwiipG1GLHvHnyvEUsaJ7U_U1Kys1Zdlw4v3sgK0YvAx9sZGYGCQ7iVUPWqVgYwiBKO56VszzUANw6XCxjmzFi9FV7V-E/w550-h640/max%20daddy%20toes%20-%201.jpeg" width="550" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daddy toes<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />
<p class="MsoNormal">Coming back from the magical mystery tour, we are not
weightless on earth which we have made our domain. Another day in search of the
beach, we trek – like the earliest inhabitants of this island – single file, along
the Atlantic shore. Mind of mountain goat to hop skip and leap over crumbled
rock avoiding cactus thorns. Spider! AquaMummy slides down a mossy slope rather
than tangle with the web across the path. Topaz beach, here she comes!</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> <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/AVvXsEgFO69eF2YFdJeKgioeUUeyP-izpKgaTUdsqCKpBQNGSlmYHApvvLNUQZCjXwfWPeWmGVvHCEzLWI0I3u8uPFErH5ZQZykwgRTs_2IRjsgJ9Mubo6vYkcEgbrdG0v3dQabeQNRtbwuPCEbqBtQ5Fj5P30PzaXspIfA0fuoHNkvCVi3v4t7TtPpQzvaY7vU/s640/max%20single%20file%20B%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFO69eF2YFdJeKgioeUUeyP-izpKgaTUdsqCKpBQNGSlmYHApvvLNUQZCjXwfWPeWmGVvHCEzLWI0I3u8uPFErH5ZQZykwgRTs_2IRjsgJ9Mubo6vYkcEgbrdG0v3dQabeQNRtbwuPCEbqBtQ5Fj5P30PzaXspIfA0fuoHNkvCVi3v4t7TtPpQzvaY7vU/w640-h480/max%20single%20file%20B%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trekking along the Atlantic coast<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></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/AVvXsEiYDaSSh_qBpLrppn2b84FZU1CWRg0rwDfamq7Zj0VTo6kjdZB_YsGS2f-p7aFd3cAPN6kRovoFvZgrL6-AR3gEjyjQOp1lBEt2wEZr_cQ1K4jLjh_txaBUOiW9nNwl52bx-Ykj4FdToNK_LJ9chkFSH6LK1Xr5AHT-jnjT1QIbnY2N1mCKdmcnML4YrR8/s640/max%20topaz%20-%201%20(1).jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="359" data-original-width="640" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYDaSSh_qBpLrppn2b84FZU1CWRg0rwDfamq7Zj0VTo6kjdZB_YsGS2f-p7aFd3cAPN6kRovoFvZgrL6-AR3gEjyjQOp1lBEt2wEZr_cQ1K4jLjh_txaBUOiW9nNwl52bx-Ykj4FdToNK_LJ9chkFSH6LK1Xr5AHT-jnjT1QIbnY2N1mCKdmcnML4YrR8/w640-h360/max%20topaz%20-%201%20(1).jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Topaz bay<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Later that day, AquaBoy wrestles a shark and takes his
tooth! With his trophy he claims his place as IslandBoy.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"></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/AVvXsEgDrjmZzhCc-d66URToQEGP1Qy1MDLEQzeZO23CLv2b11gO4Yb1csLTbrEd5YoGd-OCPHYydbfNITtmFIuBGBLki8x6yfG94sHi3AM222Dc8Wl913qhCka-l8l2RshHPLrSDBZKqGnKGW7AWANxfPg3sNPciDLWFwjGlG4SZYfsIQRgGgznD_A60Ta201o/s640/max%20shark%20tooth%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDrjmZzhCc-d66URToQEGP1Qy1MDLEQzeZO23CLv2b11gO4Yb1csLTbrEd5YoGd-OCPHYydbfNITtmFIuBGBLki8x6yfG94sHi3AM222Dc8Wl913qhCka-l8l2RshHPLrSDBZKqGnKGW7AWANxfPg3sNPciDLWFwjGlG4SZYfsIQRgGgznD_A60Ta201o/w300-h400/max%20shark%20tooth%20-%201.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grafton beach<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-46826996513669467442023-06-28T16:26:00.001-04:002023-06-28T16:33:12.725-04:00The Max Files<p><span style="font-family: times;"><i>Playing is acting and pretending and hiding<br /></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">In the park, he fits easily into these wings, then runs to anther path behind some heavy bush. You run alongside listening until the paths cross and you emerge together. Let's play hide-and-seek. No Max, I want to see you all the time. He runs off. You count but keep your eyes on the orange t-shirt sliding from tree to tree. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: times;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-6XT75KeWdfidxRC3Atn5enIfmHFexRVRFhDjvho7H9t6YE39oa5LUn1SCevfoihP6TqA9ksdFIEfkHEaaQFjVc4tc0N0dpaCsF1VQ6my24r1hzqYxC3MPzcZdy-8R071dyGu8uevdCV0XMoMp2ljstQx3MOWFHZS0fLIJWFOYZMRD1CRoquYFJvvmCU/s4026/Max%20angel.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2919" data-original-width="4026" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-6XT75KeWdfidxRC3Atn5enIfmHFexRVRFhDjvho7H9t6YE39oa5LUn1SCevfoihP6TqA9ksdFIEfkHEaaQFjVc4tc0N0dpaCsF1VQ6my24r1hzqYxC3MPzcZdy-8R071dyGu8uevdCV0XMoMp2ljstQx3MOWFHZS0fLIJWFOYZMRD1CRoquYFJvvmCU/w640-h464/Max%20angel.jpg" width="640" /></a></i></div><span style="font-family: times;"><i><br /></i></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: times;"><i> </i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;"><i>Racing car driver
</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">His grandfather wanted to be a racing car driver. PopPop
would go with his pals in a Mini to Brands Hatch and for a few quid, they would
be allowed to race around the empty track. That would have been around 1969 when
he was still an English schoolboy attending Presentation College in Maidenhead.
</span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> <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/AVvXsEg6oMqZ8WZEhf98_czLy8fgwH3Qzq20ldAPvSIRVPBcUu0yZQABT_-5EQFESMFOmuqOCxXmr4UVjFZ9tKrFeGe-1kiPRUigNNxraJ0lXZJceksTNuTXbJQf7s7HRY0R1BAVYOxWTnjjshlAbAuciichgJ2A_QiqHrxPIMPfIDu-F1DMUg1Iz_2zMu5b_7M/s640/max%20maserati%20-%201%20(1).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="538" data-original-width="640" height="538" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6oMqZ8WZEhf98_czLy8fgwH3Qzq20ldAPvSIRVPBcUu0yZQABT_-5EQFESMFOmuqOCxXmr4UVjFZ9tKrFeGe-1kiPRUigNNxraJ0lXZJceksTNuTXbJQf7s7HRY0R1BAVYOxWTnjjshlAbAuciichgJ2A_QiqHrxPIMPfIDu-F1DMUg1Iz_2zMu5b_7M/w640-h538/max%20maserati%20-%201%20(1).jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"></span><p></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">PopPop’s grandson sits in his car seat and reads the mileage
meter in Pop’s car as they head to the swimming pool in Lewisham. He has
learned what the road signs mean, the speed limits, and calls out, “22. 23 …”
On the highways, “Slow down Daddy.” </span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><i>The Photo Artist</i></span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">“Mom, frame your photos! Don’t just snap…” But who has time
to frame as the family walks down the street to catch the next train or on some
other timebound mission. “Be like Max…” The young photographer grabs the iPad,
points and shoots. He has an image in mind. Or the image stirs a concept. He
takes a selfie and uses another app to draw on it. When the grown up camera
comes out, little fingers clutch the edges of the Lumix, heavy for small
hands, and he snaps fast because grown up hands are reaching to take the
camera.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></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/AVvXsEh0VN2PnpQ6pQav0lrG4XtAJhA9e5rxbYqge3KcuiDvwXMg7Ynv2MS7cEysd4ZCI4J3kgMVDWc3h25TpnL6gBJ3EzHqJoyVZxuFVR0BfELzhwinpxI06aaEwcDZzHcPKcUfux3lmakcEE-_Y1Ts6vXAhNqhYgfeMDKijBUBtTxF8OfCQsz0U_yql_N6MUw/s640/maxphoto%20mummy%20and%20daddy%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0VN2PnpQ6pQav0lrG4XtAJhA9e5rxbYqge3KcuiDvwXMg7Ynv2MS7cEysd4ZCI4J3kgMVDWc3h25TpnL6gBJ3EzHqJoyVZxuFVR0BfELzhwinpxI06aaEwcDZzHcPKcUfux3lmakcEE-_Y1Ts6vXAhNqhYgfeMDKijBUBtTxF8OfCQsz0U_yql_N6MUw/w640-h480/maxphoto%20mummy%20and%20daddy%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maxphoto: Mummy and Daddy reaching for camera<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: times;"><br /> </span><p></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></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/AVvXsEjzMOl75bz85168PRPRIQymlex1GTikDFZflTJZZg50vC77jeEnZGM1U6S9pl8CRrRLK-_gyg0KxiTLDg10qCuyCG0TD_zsxJUgG2rbHITkDdFQE9rbe5ScuD2prAGdSopw7L8T0qS4XZrzcierCQd-S1lrxHch5SIcYr4iKRnDkJS7WlrmprlYbKmqF_Q/s2120/max%20photo%20selfie.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2120" data-original-width="1590" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzMOl75bz85168PRPRIQymlex1GTikDFZflTJZZg50vC77jeEnZGM1U6S9pl8CRrRLK-_gyg0KxiTLDg10qCuyCG0TD_zsxJUgG2rbHITkDdFQE9rbe5ScuD2prAGdSopw7L8T0qS4XZrzcierCQd-S1lrxHch5SIcYr4iKRnDkJS7WlrmprlYbKmqF_Q/w300-h400/max%20photo%20selfie.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maxphoto and art: iPad selfie with drawing<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: times;"><br /> </span><p></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: times;">Playground run around</span></i></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">It started the day we raced for the ice cream truck. Rinkle
tinkle dinkle, it was singing down the road. That was the day he had a swirly
cone with sprinkles. After that day, we never saw the truck again. But we could
go to the shop in the park and get a scoop of sorbet. So started the summer
in the park afternoons. There was usually someone to run around with. Ted. Dulcie. Eva. When
there was no other child, the swing, the rock climb, the crazy logs were there
to challenge him.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv-GMw7WiKiW1SMvL5sCrSjW2FlHdmperwb9w7fe15GeQzfARAQw_hPFZDENudeCHgDXzg4Et_QwteXfezngl8OiTiHQK74-1KDjWopweZZn2sI9x_LxKLSN-DvHGBkxqOd7kOjY7WoMnha4ZIwRjZbMorrwVj14D-hhx700KorOZaL9Mi5oT_Rbol85E/s3057/max%20dulcie.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3057" data-original-width="3021" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv-GMw7WiKiW1SMvL5sCrSjW2FlHdmperwb9w7fe15GeQzfARAQw_hPFZDENudeCHgDXzg4Et_QwteXfezngl8OiTiHQK74-1KDjWopweZZn2sI9x_LxKLSN-DvHGBkxqOd7kOjY7WoMnha4ZIwRjZbMorrwVj14D-hhx700KorOZaL9Mi5oT_Rbol85E/w632-h640/max%20dulcie.jpg" width="632" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsyM9pwyUm-5LWOgg3ygbLwan4FYIQ9QwMdyAUSldS5zJSkPdJzt81mZs10Mmg1PUq_mIFpJezHdH-_7K7ETdlzoZwBOMz-ULT7BT_7XwGpRqroxKhS-PXTm-UeUtIht86x_NmHKiM11CEkKF7KMsFLAp6gZ0H3tndw7kSJNb21uyweljJVJIx8uVqOYY/s4032/max%20eva.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsyM9pwyUm-5LWOgg3ygbLwan4FYIQ9QwMdyAUSldS5zJSkPdJzt81mZs10Mmg1PUq_mIFpJezHdH-_7K7ETdlzoZwBOMz-ULT7BT_7XwGpRqroxKhS-PXTm-UeUtIht86x_NmHKiM11CEkKF7KMsFLAp6gZ0H3tndw7kSJNb21uyweljJVJIx8uVqOYY/w640-h480/max%20eva.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: times;">Where’s my Mommy?</span></i></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">Your Mommy’s at work, you know that.</span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">You don't have to answer, Apoo! Where’s my Mommy?</span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">In the park, he says, it’s so that people don’t think that
Apoo is his Mommy.</span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">I overhear him explaining to another Mum that he calls me
Apoo because this is Chinese for grandma, even though he doesn’t speak Chinese
and though Apoo looks Chinese, she does not speak Chinese.</span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">Daddy doesn’t speak Chinese either.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></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/AVvXsEge90oOwfL-IO21RrbcYnPDOOOi7WbRPjzwasq5HaVBspJNfZfZ_5iZmhMZPDtzjnsnWKZjXBy2xp32HmF0l1PuTkfl7sRFqzvs2Ya1eKevOqiKJWi4EsbdSij6Bexdc5r5cMRKOHKP0bnVx5JsPb_FrNR8_SS392M3MvmYjCdHjLoQK_wsupVfLhR7KG0/s640/max%20photo%20mummy%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="640" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge90oOwfL-IO21RrbcYnPDOOOi7WbRPjzwasq5HaVBspJNfZfZ_5iZmhMZPDtzjnsnWKZjXBy2xp32HmF0l1PuTkfl7sRFqzvs2Ya1eKevOqiKJWi4EsbdSij6Bexdc5r5cMRKOHKP0bnVx5JsPb_FrNR8_SS392M3MvmYjCdHjLoQK_wsupVfLhR7KG0/s320/max%20photo%20mummy%20-%201.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maxphoto: Mummy<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: times;"><br /> </span><p></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: times;">How many minutes?</span></i></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">At night, after many stories, he does not fall asleep. He asks, how many minutes til my Daddy comes home?</span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">Tell him something like 33 minutes and he starts counting,
one, two, three … to 60. Then over and over again, the count to 60.</span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">He loves numbers. Always counting. How many days to Trinidad
and Tobago? How many days to his birthday.</span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: times;">Tell me a story</span></i></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">His Daddy tells many versions of Thin Foot, Big Belly and
Wide Mouth; the threesome that were featured in PopPop’s stories. <br /></span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">At breakfast, the three boys go to Maracas. Mummy tells
them not to go in the water unless there’s a grown up. But the sand is hot, and
the three boys run towards the water.</span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">Thin Foot slips down a crab hole. Big Belly and Wide Mouth
end up in the sea before remembering that they can’t swim…the tale spins on.
Eventually, they are saved by Mummy who kisses them on the tops of their heads
and takes them for a snack on the beach. Crick crack!</span></p><span style="font-family: times;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixaWnkORGzgz8ZGNTCXSjycrXV-L2AS-lPLtUSn-sYeQZcAqUpwYw50uFEn2PjEYOWX7nJ4zdFJmtRvVoKE_q-2F7CNUjZ9fRX_yNKFaEqDX6Q0K2hdbd4Di0nvTw3JGfrXXPHg3BzyGxzfMsLRooC68FUhqsVzQZzbHGBGSo__0F-H3cGEDCDN99Gr0w/s3383/max%20little%20wing.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2929" data-original-width="3383" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixaWnkORGzgz8ZGNTCXSjycrXV-L2AS-lPLtUSn-sYeQZcAqUpwYw50uFEn2PjEYOWX7nJ4zdFJmtRvVoKE_q-2F7CNUjZ9fRX_yNKFaEqDX6Q0K2hdbd4Di0nvTw3JGfrXXPHg3BzyGxzfMsLRooC68FUhqsVzQZzbHGBGSo__0F-H3cGEDCDN99Gr0w/s320/max%20little%20wing.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">As we said at the beginning, play is pretend. It's occupying other spaces, entertaining other ways of being, wild, or naughty, or nice.<br /></span></p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p><br /><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-14836676530175472802023-06-19T05:43:00.000-04:002023-06-19T05:43:34.623-04:00Gardeners everywhere!<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">It’s the year of the rose, she said, and everywhere you see
them, blazing in the sun, throwing petals to the wind, peeping over hedges and
climbing the walls. Crazy gorgeous. Scarlet and blowzy. Cream, white, pink. Not shy
yellows. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQ1UAXBZBd1nlJHx6EFeSpPcfcVXWer84GmtQ4ldQGHFYFD34IqduKON2KBw4pkKAHr2s79Pi4fTYeom2OBy6AIpw5EajXcC-Dk5ugxePUMNfh__zoMNF5bjs2xJj_W1xtXcuapeVeh8V1Z__on2ZY8tKy6hBR2o5YLfrV_F3G_anm3Af362Izfiga7k/s3561/blue%20roses.heic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3561" data-original-width="3021" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQ1UAXBZBd1nlJHx6EFeSpPcfcVXWer84GmtQ4ldQGHFYFD34IqduKON2KBw4pkKAHr2s79Pi4fTYeom2OBy6AIpw5EajXcC-Dk5ugxePUMNfh__zoMNF5bjs2xJj_W1xtXcuapeVeh8V1Z__on2ZY8tKy6hBR2o5YLfrV_F3G_anm3Af362Izfiga7k/w542-h640/blue%20roses.heic" width="542" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In early summer, the colours come out and you see the template of every garden you’ve ever known. Alium and lavender. Foxglove
and lupin. Poppy. Who first cultivated for the seasonal glory of flowers,
forsaking fruit? From where did this contrariness arise, bypassing the bulb for
the bloom; the bloom over the berry, the rose over the hip.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqEETxMcvubKUbFMbMrwWH1JigkHAGBjTr7ma1dcqmxv8WaIAVP_l7MKR4J4-LJo_pPNM9Mbv30OSeMbfERXLgwZ_u_Itju9yFhE0uZeXys37VIHSa0GDqkDBnadM1AX0rkueMTTAV9amprkA9V1JGY9FS-5YvUmNw42o9aTUJK7uEt-LCQclt6A06IaY/s4032/blue%20poppy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqEETxMcvubKUbFMbMrwWH1JigkHAGBjTr7ma1dcqmxv8WaIAVP_l7MKR4J4-LJo_pPNM9Mbv30OSeMbfERXLgwZ_u_Itju9yFhE0uZeXys37VIHSa0GDqkDBnadM1AX0rkueMTTAV9amprkA9V1JGY9FS-5YvUmNw42o9aTUJK7uEt-LCQclt6A06IaY/w300-h400/blue%20poppy.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjInMADXHaVWdbZxb7r0mZRq0LYpaAeTUbWWwbjkUyyHwFS8M-fqurNI61e5YKztsFczdOupxwiTYOX6oNPjXsR_KoclnUfEpaL-ejFa59S4b0pDBngnPrVhABVIBGNxT_iY4JCcZeMvrYXqUXQqlgIzBqyE2Tp8135CtI2t0Rd1754tXNf3vh2NaO_y2M/s4032/blue%20corner.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/AVvXsEjInMADXHaVWdbZxb7r0mZRq0LYpaAeTUbWWwbjkUyyHwFS8M-fqurNI61e5YKztsFczdOupxwiTYOX6oNPjXsR_KoclnUfEpaL-ejFa59S4b0pDBngnPrVhABVIBGNxT_iY4JCcZeMvrYXqUXQqlgIzBqyE2Tp8135CtI2t0Rd1754tXNf3vh2NaO_y2M/s320/blue%20corner.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRVGU9wk4Xlbf8H9AW58F7O1bUJdAZb9QeB7Ci_JbVZYItflsk5GG85wJ7fcQyCMo11L6ZKzWiv67UePvL8vPHwuxeMrhCpnNXiGYVjqkARr6SLrOR8jsuBtdAHpEubOoe14KN5ZIlokAVh3JtT5dFx0y6o9_d2UTf7VPwc4-ts1u428ajEbk0bgVLk28/s4032/blue%20heron.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRVGU9wk4Xlbf8H9AW58F7O1bUJdAZb9QeB7Ci_JbVZYItflsk5GG85wJ7fcQyCMo11L6ZKzWiv67UePvL8vPHwuxeMrhCpnNXiGYVjqkARr6SLrOR8jsuBtdAHpEubOoe14KN5ZIlokAVh3JtT5dFx0y6o9_d2UTf7VPwc4-ts1u428ajEbk0bgVLk28/w480-h640/blue%20heron.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh8OnRu0EKSovoGOnKnM7oF-30B8nBMQMiE6nwg3EkCQJq2vHpXZCaN7PKLhC6gBQur8sY5L1qjm6WTZXuBK_28aEI2-lZyXD55LbZ3YROW_JZmDCqfbMQXiUVQgJFWBvO7SeY04mr9D6eBOdRtLpOjPQtK-H0UshSUfZgzDkVqA-yMnURRsuLYTWPN60/s4032/blue%20stream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh8OnRu0EKSovoGOnKnM7oF-30B8nBMQMiE6nwg3EkCQJq2vHpXZCaN7PKLhC6gBQur8sY5L1qjm6WTZXuBK_28aEI2-lZyXD55LbZ3YROW_JZmDCqfbMQXiUVQgJFWBvO7SeY04mr9D6eBOdRtLpOjPQtK-H0UshSUfZgzDkVqA-yMnURRsuLYTWPN60/w480-h640/blue%20stream.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />Late May early June, we walk the streets, from Manor Park to
Blackheath, Greenwich and back through green avenues, arches dripping with
rain. This could be a rainforest, Max calls out, riding his scooter aiming for
the puddles, breathing mist, cloaked in damp.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Always the roses, but there are other lovely blooms in the
gardens. Look for the blue patches, she says. That’s purple! Blue or purple, this
end of the rainbow is well represented too.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoEgAzkRFGfCdVUfqkckVwkRW7JVOPDRqjA7WDj31V-wOq5V4gKUhU1owO2LcDl7LBVl46OHJSiKspW-fGv9n4Sy3aRs97IMORwXKt4RDBGXKZrRTmQCJeU-EG7k8fl_Nm8B5iWNRKnYke0WnVfAkUg3y6tGBpTRJNVlcrnwaGgv1YJxb_9o3cJsNZmoo/s4032/blue%20evening%20B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoEgAzkRFGfCdVUfqkckVwkRW7JVOPDRqjA7WDj31V-wOq5V4gKUhU1owO2LcDl7LBVl46OHJSiKspW-fGv9n4Sy3aRs97IMORwXKt4RDBGXKZrRTmQCJeU-EG7k8fl_Nm8B5iWNRKnYke0WnVfAkUg3y6tGBpTRJNVlcrnwaGgv1YJxb_9o3cJsNZmoo/w640-h480/blue%20evening%20B.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Someone has gardened here, these stately rows of trees with
runners’ paths. Someone selected these hedges. Lavender and rosemary are always
in fashion. There’s a community garden seeking volunteers. There are dandelions
gone to seed. A narrow stream under green cover running clear. And the pond
where the wild birds congregate in their seasons. Swans, ducks and herons.
Pigeons always pigeons.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It's a humane city that takes care of its residents with wild
and wilding spaces that all might share: trees, foxes, birds, people, and
especially the young ‘uns learning to love the wild .</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_chmOo7ea98ACg6JMrrSD31k9-yOx3MT2lFsaOK-O_Vra152WXzSGheiwyHm_Pvnifs_ZjlHYkpLyJUJbKjGVLYhEAd2XiY2Qu3u001HCsYt3MmphSIzJv3yCXB4I9GEV6VG7xQNfmUIez3p-Z_H5LA8xLIyy7fBZ_IkkidWfisjpL5_1b7LRHWy6bzk/s4032/max%20thistle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_chmOo7ea98ACg6JMrrSD31k9-yOx3MT2lFsaOK-O_Vra152WXzSGheiwyHm_Pvnifs_ZjlHYkpLyJUJbKjGVLYhEAd2XiY2Qu3u001HCsYt3MmphSIzJv3yCXB4I9GEV6VG7xQNfmUIez3p-Z_H5LA8xLIyy7fBZ_IkkidWfisjpL5_1b7LRHWy6bzk/w300-h400/max%20thistle.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCVHzPwQriesVCQtFR2ffs0cWIr329CMI7fZm4Q2ql3thseSxwkomj8IBwKb2tvSH13Y-o5RS1KYb_Nu3TdpyME_-jtzY8FfYg9h2qOHglJg-xXYfmxKpB0qlLrmD-9Ax7nL_ZYTQaG3aOcmAWjELn0rAOpQVSiXsLJXa5K4OO5MzeWzeI3D8k677sUfA/s4032/max%20gardener.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCVHzPwQriesVCQtFR2ffs0cWIr329CMI7fZm4Q2ql3thseSxwkomj8IBwKb2tvSH13Y-o5RS1KYb_Nu3TdpyME_-jtzY8FfYg9h2qOHglJg-xXYfmxKpB0qlLrmD-9Ax7nL_ZYTQaG3aOcmAWjELn0rAOpQVSiXsLJXa5K4OO5MzeWzeI3D8k677sUfA/w300-h400/max%20gardener.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-11971856683745739072023-06-11T11:35:00.000-04:002023-06-11T11:35:08.561-04:00Then and Now in Greece
<p class="MsoNormal">Greece 50 years ago was an adventure with Auntie Sim. Our
round the world trip included a hop from Turkey (Istanbul) to Greece (Athens). As
a young reader, I loved the tales of gods and heroes. As a theatre major, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was fascinated by idea of the Dionysian as
much as awed by the fierce power of women in the Bacchae. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">On those travels with my aunt, I had no camera. Like dreams, flashes of memory show a bus tour that left Athens and trekked the hot stony
hills to villages where we had simple tourist meals and samplings of craft at small booths. I saw the theatre of Dionysus and the temple at Delphi, Mount
Olympus and olive groves, peopled by visions of pan-footed gods and nubile nymphs. Another night, we witnessed a splendid “son et lumiere” projected on the Acropolis.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </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/AVvXsEhaTK-CIf13RJjP2uIxlHEsHy7gIJAbX9BP6PnmvGmbjhhe4lcswkepuGSPlCXcKVcO-D01qUplrvmfB3A9kvs5P4xOSWz4h0NdpVJeugAMKiFpAyzRJ9NfeNJCcUz3hBbxNw0VyRI99KFFs8-W9x3mEfLxBo2OY57m92xoGRHIVVD3aiVoPkPhL5HL/s640/foodie%20landscape%20-%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTK-CIf13RJjP2uIxlHEsHy7gIJAbX9BP6PnmvGmbjhhe4lcswkepuGSPlCXcKVcO-D01qUplrvmfB3A9kvs5P4xOSWz4h0NdpVJeugAMKiFpAyzRJ9NfeNJCcUz3hBbxNw0VyRI99KFFs8-W9x3mEfLxBo2OY57m92xoGRHIVVD3aiVoPkPhL5HL/w640-h480/foodie%20landscape%20-%202.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The flag of Greece at the Acropolis<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/AVvXsEiCcHxA3jXWvrfqO0WB-t9qCZebqVpV7rci5rZNcoAY3NWkqSK2JiX1L2H-7g84FTTuXMVkgrSJ-YMlybs8_vDOhPwRQx7d6yHPSuGeO4CH6CBkOUO4WNKOfP8wZYVNCxoqSuyNrGSpzA5xnSSNBKOzH36THhDIoqD68i2S6rD2QDRFTuV-2C8c2qVt/s640/foodie%20landscape%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCcHxA3jXWvrfqO0WB-t9qCZebqVpV7rci5rZNcoAY3NWkqSK2JiX1L2H-7g84FTTuXMVkgrSJ-YMlybs8_vDOhPwRQx7d6yHPSuGeO4CH6CBkOUO4WNKOfP8wZYVNCxoqSuyNrGSpzA5xnSSNBKOzH36THhDIoqD68i2S6rD2QDRFTuV-2C8c2qVt/w640-h480/foodie%20landscape%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cityscape of ancient stones and modern buildings<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It's not like waking in Athens after 50 years is déjà vu,
but there’s familiarity in the way the rising sun lights the hill and hits the
sea with islands shimmering in the hazy distance. Three days in Athens recall a
feeling. Blue sky, warm breezes and food that’s wholesome and generous, all
impart well-being and an atmosphere of beneficence. Athens is a Mediterranean <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>capital, as cosmopolitan as London. It is
warmed by the (almost) landlocked sea so vast that Odysseus sailed for ten
years before finding his way home. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is
an omphalos, a centre of the world. <br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Three days in Athens in 2023 were more people
specific. Omeros and Elinor had moved back to Athens from London. For the
weekend visit, it was respite from Atlantic-cooled Britain sliding into summer. Though we did climb to the Acropolis, this was
not a time for museums or temples. It turned into a foodie treat.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </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/AVvXsEgzOdoxGbVM7C5zAeFo6bwBQPJAcN1JwdK2JTRcf-YMIj01OkyiHfZl6de8vJi_u_V229WzEadpPggkkkMUh5b2P3gQF2tDyaOEDlIRW0PC8ogo-nbra9nLs02vhxpymaaYFtoJbYtM0-sge4dvgHtqqTCvXcpdKBgOAlBLNlDnTDi0qWik4f5PG3nz/s640/foodie%20acropolis%20%20-%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="416" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzOdoxGbVM7C5zAeFo6bwBQPJAcN1JwdK2JTRcf-YMIj01OkyiHfZl6de8vJi_u_V229WzEadpPggkkkMUh5b2P3gQF2tDyaOEDlIRW0PC8ogo-nbra9nLs02vhxpymaaYFtoJbYtM0-sge4dvgHtqqTCvXcpdKBgOAlBLNlDnTDi0qWik4f5PG3nz/w416-h640/foodie%20acropolis%20%20-%202.jpeg" width="416" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Acropolis centres Athens<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/AVvXsEhoudORvtSAC8SjYR2aE7GwqFqgb7p0qxK_h7RohOWQPs4U4RmyWybdzXRkB-DiaLj7qfUKORqY00YN6KDeV3hMMcahkHJaIBuer--XhvCvFA6xGiEpHoow20BvrIGpBJGAF5J4ocjdHPawTLK9niwnq1cnBYRDtRl_Z31akesIulrt_FuY-ucCqEJp/s640/foodie%20acropolis%20%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoudORvtSAC8SjYR2aE7GwqFqgb7p0qxK_h7RohOWQPs4U4RmyWybdzXRkB-DiaLj7qfUKORqY00YN6KDeV3hMMcahkHJaIBuer--XhvCvFA6xGiEpHoow20BvrIGpBJGAF5J4ocjdHPawTLK9niwnq1cnBYRDtRl_Z31akesIulrt_FuY-ucCqEJp/w480-h640/foodie%20acropolis%20%20-%201.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At breakfast, the most amazing find was yogurt. What we call
Greek yogurt, in Greece is made from sheep and goat milk, and can have a
consistency nearer cream (crème fraiche) but light and naturally sweet. It
complements everything, savoury or sweet, spicy and meaty. My start to each Greek day saw this excellent
yogurt piled on sliced plump tomatoes atop bacon on a slice of sourdough. It is
this yogurt that gives tzatziki – cucumber and mint – its creaminess. The other
distinctive cheese made from the milk of sheep and goat is feta, a feature of
every Greek salad. Greeks call their salad of tomato (something must be said
about the sweetness and plumpness – must be the Mediterranean sun), cucumber,
sweet pepper with slabs of feta, seasoned with olive oil and capers, simply salad
or village salad.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sheep or lamb is the meat used in kebabs, hefty grilled
chops and skewered meat called sheepsticks (say it fast).</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We wandered in the Plaka - the neighbourhood dominated by
restaurants and shopping – where most streets have a view of the high walls of
the citadel, the ancient centre of Greece, the Acropolis. Tables and diners lined the pavements, shaded by trees or arbors of bougainvillea. Momos
was recommended for its location and view as well food. Our low balcony hung
over a street of many dining rooms. We lingered over the meal. At the end, our host offered a chilled flask of tsipouro, the clear wine liqueur flavoured with a
hint of anise. We took many shots!</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWjLOYOB2aT0ve2NkwuGsUWcCXFHOmw7w5cEiz2gbtHcMACUnTYJGFWlwrXlqHkT6IYmWURlzRu3tlLYiZKlzc4dRVwees6Qpt05tLrCN7SIEXCU4E4rEVKQQsKroRwBtqQSrv69V2M-HcSS1j1Fv1j6vE4PZsyuQD00zguTyRJpOuTgnO_GhY5mX2/s640/foodie%20streets%20-%204.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWjLOYOB2aT0ve2NkwuGsUWcCXFHOmw7w5cEiz2gbtHcMACUnTYJGFWlwrXlqHkT6IYmWURlzRu3tlLYiZKlzc4dRVwees6Qpt05tLrCN7SIEXCU4E4rEVKQQsKroRwBtqQSrv69V2M-HcSS1j1Fv1j6vE4PZsyuQD00zguTyRJpOuTgnO_GhY5mX2/w300-h400/foodie%20streets%20-%204.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcTATpfQ33kDkB4WLViM2ozMA3nBSnKYTKpeMhKCkUKgJy_C8vCj8lZ4afRhaZ441frkpH2to9NWQTQMzEPshMieTUXpSsozCIwxwrom9R5tTwNgiA3OkwlvM7jXm8yt9Z19rowfgFJrHBKkbea7-xpWm685CJNaXyjcA-tsuZ_uRJupyVUalSS5JY/s640/foodie%20streets%20-%203.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcTATpfQ33kDkB4WLViM2ozMA3nBSnKYTKpeMhKCkUKgJy_C8vCj8lZ4afRhaZ441frkpH2to9NWQTQMzEPshMieTUXpSsozCIwxwrom9R5tTwNgiA3OkwlvM7jXm8yt9Z19rowfgFJrHBKkbea7-xpWm685CJNaXyjcA-tsuZ_uRJupyVUalSS5JY/w300-h400/foodie%20streets%20-%203.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqgtDPhYiynerXk_9ZinAILcueL8gksrwZIHpWWWhaFLNxe7Qi7v20uKdK1eSBQxSZ4CcEVmRhFgWOM-bHDJwk68zO8ZBHd6tGOz-YoOdXtYdN5JTC9VNSsUZOc9_ekvc6htLEvxK_5dK1-fU_6l09QKR9z5DLzeuD6zwOzgk2JPjRqCzHdC0HnXhd/s640/foodie%20streets%20-%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqgtDPhYiynerXk_9ZinAILcueL8gksrwZIHpWWWhaFLNxe7Qi7v20uKdK1eSBQxSZ4CcEVmRhFgWOM-bHDJwk68zO8ZBHd6tGOz-YoOdXtYdN5JTC9VNSsUZOc9_ekvc6htLEvxK_5dK1-fU_6l09QKR9z5DLzeuD6zwOzgk2JPjRqCzHdC0HnXhd/w300-h400/foodie%20streets%20-%202.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh300SawPqw0dlb5wXpyCiFYKmu2Z1H6hYe1Hx_roRDVOsKKV2qdreRXbZ3l-6i71RWJBymYn_ySgvm8Lh4_Noa9TMeyJqdA5yFPZoqFgAQ0PluJGyoK1U8M7lCyZdUcrX7xKsy-uXH1dWZI11XvY8PhdwSda9trRjsf8icIgzI0gtY43LIxFZxO8WQ/s640/foodie%20streets%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="596" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh300SawPqw0dlb5wXpyCiFYKmu2Z1H6hYe1Hx_roRDVOsKKV2qdreRXbZ3l-6i71RWJBymYn_ySgvm8Lh4_Noa9TMeyJqdA5yFPZoqFgAQ0PluJGyoK1U8M7lCyZdUcrX7xKsy-uXH1dWZI11XvY8PhdwSda9trRjsf8icIgzI0gtY43LIxFZxO8WQ/w373-h400/foodie%20streets%20-%201.jpeg" width="373" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Another day, we walked the seafront from Edem to Flisvos
Marina heading west as the sun was going down. At Flisvos, the dining scene was
pizza and ice cream. No, not stopping here said Omi, heading back over the
highway to another neighbourhood, treelined, sedate, gently inclined streets.
The Pita Bar featured a variety of meat fillings enfolded with fries and salad in
pillowy pita bread: fresh flavourful and filling. Definitely worth the extra
miles – 20 minutes walk from Flisvos – for indigenous Greek fast food. That was
also where we almost couldn't leave the toilet imprisoned by a tricky lock. Should I kick the
door down, asked the littlest one.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></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/AVvXsEhQnwmfON1eLh3_okl82_N-vKoOPZwlrN8AeJsrAKM4XgtlaMI31jVXUc3NUA7uvad15dacjqfStcIFJ3_N61Ly06HP0_XFbkLP5dfIu1pSlRP8Fw9a3WczBq61oumatfRratd92bOCfGC5oJ5vFTqti6l6lUA5etq8L0jdAdiqsjk_DlNCGp6I_iF7/s640/foodie%20monastiraki%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQnwmfON1eLh3_okl82_N-vKoOPZwlrN8AeJsrAKM4XgtlaMI31jVXUc3NUA7uvad15dacjqfStcIFJ3_N61Ly06HP0_XFbkLP5dfIu1pSlRP8Fw9a3WczBq61oumatfRratd92bOCfGC5oJ5vFTqti6l6lUA5etq8L0jdAdiqsjk_DlNCGp6I_iF7/w640-h480/foodie%20monastiraki%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monastiraki Square and flea market<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The person who visited Greece at 20+ had temples, gods and
ancient theatre on her mind. Older and more present, the air,
light and breezes off the ancient sea, gnarled pine trees, the scent of rosemary
in hedges, and the company of family and new friends rewires understanding of these islands. Efcharisto!</p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-61570609901283396052023-06-09T06:39:00.003-04:002023-06-09T06:39:53.248-04:00After SchoolWe leave the noisy school yard. Outside the gate there’s
a certain quiet.
<p class="MsoNormal">Not silence, it’s the calm shushing of trees with full new
green growth, high-pitched birdsong, cars in the distance.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8qpceloYwDG98sK2l8R8H9k3jrSUSPzwAXT_CfgNGw1tdI0mSrkOQnIeBclthvP1fUPk03Paj0ds4sB_hsq0N4iIrNz8L3s7Yq4CWgaZngkNvlC7vqvngW5l_yuTZHuID5aOQmhUoojnWNPc7k-IsHnGGiYmoiMscyKFXNgVaDx7h04xLXhEnYHfT/s640/manor%20park%20blooms%20-%203.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8qpceloYwDG98sK2l8R8H9k3jrSUSPzwAXT_CfgNGw1tdI0mSrkOQnIeBclthvP1fUPk03Paj0ds4sB_hsq0N4iIrNz8L3s7Yq4CWgaZngkNvlC7vqvngW5l_yuTZHuID5aOQmhUoojnWNPc7k-IsHnGGiYmoiMscyKFXNgVaDx7h04xLXhEnYHfT/s320/manor%20park%20blooms%20-%203.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxCbn9psq7YESQzOsnNTvZT__l3d1mTAey1UfyWyxaNICJ3KhoUbm-1csAYpXmxrF2hBPoRAR4KWHv7TxQuTWNXhPXcrmmmQW58S-XRsdsmi9vS6pFlkCnw8MTbOhuSJLMNE4T6F_wHTI0ab-sK1mP1d81EkHs2mpsBhbdVA45LfKn-1P3uMgwwUDz/s640/manor%20park%20blooms%20-%202.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxCbn9psq7YESQzOsnNTvZT__l3d1mTAey1UfyWyxaNICJ3KhoUbm-1csAYpXmxrF2hBPoRAR4KWHv7TxQuTWNXhPXcrmmmQW58S-XRsdsmi9vS6pFlkCnw8MTbOhuSJLMNE4T6F_wHTI0ab-sK1mP1d81EkHs2mpsBhbdVA45LfKn-1P3uMgwwUDz/s320/manor%20park%20blooms%20-%202.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoo8x9vTpVXnPyZDwntRAepzXOnAci8poDeGinOcHLJx_oCtQogaG9DF0-RcvCqsem-G3knYreokY8_XQ2wfTw-vsEotBciR_4rZd0gEjlwUOo_0WIN5LV4pcJQ-dOn1GR2tYG-4TKndUH8bU_AzF5900Rt11CoLhm7w_ck6JdfpA0h2XbFjBbjhc_/s640/manor%20park%20blooms%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="354" data-original-width="640" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoo8x9vTpVXnPyZDwntRAepzXOnAci8poDeGinOcHLJx_oCtQogaG9DF0-RcvCqsem-G3knYreokY8_XQ2wfTw-vsEotBciR_4rZd0gEjlwUOo_0WIN5LV4pcJQ-dOn1GR2tYG-4TKndUH8bU_AzF5900Rt11CoLhm7w_ck6JdfpA0h2XbFjBbjhc_/s320/manor%20park%20blooms%20-%201.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It’s time to notice the barks of trees, like Mr Birch which
Max speculates must be twice as old as he is, maybe ten, and ten times taller, and
going to live much longer. He strokes the horizontal ridges straight as
a ruler and the bark soft as his blanket.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><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/AVvXsEgZSzZvTwZyMJA5HMPjUaFJz9Yawrb_rWDjt16xDdCi1pgzET_XEvpLwMDC4bxMFBYGDWn6Kz7j4hQ6NQflXfPPl3pgB_s1ajim4fAvjo8oIKyVYuNM2qv1W460dBs5-ZkngqTvdouXtVB78sRAP2vQ3s767c6VmZvMLDdOnI4j3sQUvrVD0jtqMdTA/s640/manor%20park%20trees%20-%202.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZSzZvTwZyMJA5HMPjUaFJz9Yawrb_rWDjt16xDdCi1pgzET_XEvpLwMDC4bxMFBYGDWn6Kz7j4hQ6NQflXfPPl3pgB_s1ajim4fAvjo8oIKyVYuNM2qv1W460dBs5-ZkngqTvdouXtVB78sRAP2vQ3s767c6VmZvMLDdOnI4j3sQUvrVD0jtqMdTA/w480-h640/manor%20park%20trees%20-%202.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr Birch, tall as a house and older than Max!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That day, we raced after the ice cream van with its ding
dong chime. It stopped and drove away a few times before we caught up to it.
Max was contemplating flavours but the ice cream man just whipped out a cone
and filled it from the soft serve machine, swirly vanilla dipped in sprinkles. You’ll
like this he said. Maybe he had no other flavours.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdTL0nM5T2DawDM8iGQPvLOM13QvP41YsrIgKwqbMHmCuWiGUjqISxw-LbfGUqiMCG4XEGgBdUYlMy7s-trm76fIgvmhTakMzoIv8ruQ5Ak6x5sSpkkhSmugtpmDBOlMmtMm0yhvozPY0_XXDkm-8vSUTgQd4AV0PCXwTlNdTT3DNjQbBx7lIZnM0Y/s640/manor%20park%20craft%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="481" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdTL0nM5T2DawDM8iGQPvLOM13QvP41YsrIgKwqbMHmCuWiGUjqISxw-LbfGUqiMCG4XEGgBdUYlMy7s-trm76fIgvmhTakMzoIv8ruQ5Ak6x5sSpkkhSmugtpmDBOlMmtMm0yhvozPY0_XXDkm-8vSUTgQd4AV0PCXwTlNdTT3DNjQbBx7lIZnM0Y/s320/manor%20park%20craft%20-%201.jpeg" width="241" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha92QMYO3fTeLPcGKPJ-47vemi_FqiamBxB0HkFqwCcf_O4fm0_pTeJ10pUKdmvINrgIiqy7t9B2WNJfG7SSuFTlVDcpohW7SNyjdgyIgK4o5RUHU-lV4Zp3TnRLpMNt3-uVJtVN0T1fzlEOijdtKvZo-nauvYtCviiHsPoDWj0niHLTQiz78sl0eC/s640/manor%20park%20craft%20-%202.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="596" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha92QMYO3fTeLPcGKPJ-47vemi_FqiamBxB0HkFqwCcf_O4fm0_pTeJ10pUKdmvINrgIiqy7t9B2WNJfG7SSuFTlVDcpohW7SNyjdgyIgK4o5RUHU-lV4Zp3TnRLpMNt3-uVJtVN0T1fzlEOijdtKvZo-nauvYtCviiHsPoDWj0niHLTQiz78sl0eC/w373-h400/manor%20park%20craft%20-%202.jpeg" width="373" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That was not an afternoon for football coaching. Dribbling
is the key to scoring said Max, you have to learn to dribble don’t just kick
the ball, dribble, dribble, Apo you are frustrating me! No, that day was for an idea
in his head, crafty work with scissors and paper rolls and cellotape.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The next day, we saluted Mr Birch and proceeded to the
park which is bushy and shaded, ringing with the shrieks and laughter of
children. At the play zone, the slides are closed he said and headed for the
slippery wall to the bridge. He clambered up easily then stood looking around. There are three ways to get down he said, the rope
ladder, the spider net or down the way he went up. He stood on the bridge a
long time. Another boy, Oscar 7 tried to show the way.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPKs4jYHWRXtunqj-CE5LmsEjSCz_uwmMGjY8tgdGwr-98JqTqyTyUICQnXb7rH4ifXaQtD0kW0cPFD1yKkkIrrMWV20BwsqB5FqHNP_b6YPY9m0nuO010iozHixrI3IuK8QWQliYZYPHWC7KCfj2lD4hpP6W9CB1m4Seec2csqz-5QwHqwKAyShr-/s640/manor%20park%20web%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPKs4jYHWRXtunqj-CE5LmsEjSCz_uwmMGjY8tgdGwr-98JqTqyTyUICQnXb7rH4ifXaQtD0kW0cPFD1yKkkIrrMWV20BwsqB5FqHNP_b6YPY9m0nuO010iozHixrI3IuK8QWQliYZYPHWC7KCfj2lD4hpP6W9CB1m4Seec2csqz-5QwHqwKAyShr-/w275-h400/manor%20park%20web%20-%201.jpeg" width="275" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvdapq-ZTbg1_sQDgv6g_4Qs9xsHXgSEmzB5V5Q2bQFCktyyGdpI3BbpNPobxG2J5AzK_tlT2H6LaHhwMmoGL5JoOIDxQf5-h3TivEChyNhx3k3GuztzvEjTPRYic8w1TbVMEnCTQC6o5Nb_TGCKl7unZSxHmHBTdIzjRJqEY842LagA2iThNMFSPQ/s640/manor%20park%20play%20-%202.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="373" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvdapq-ZTbg1_sQDgv6g_4Qs9xsHXgSEmzB5V5Q2bQFCktyyGdpI3BbpNPobxG2J5AzK_tlT2H6LaHhwMmoGL5JoOIDxQf5-h3TivEChyNhx3k3GuztzvEjTPRYic8w1TbVMEnCTQC6o5Nb_TGCKl7unZSxHmHBTdIzjRJqEY842LagA2iThNMFSPQ/w374-h640/manor%20park%20play%20-%202.jpeg" width="374" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0wXbvTMhUUZJ5-XoEjFjCJOytxUo6VlDJMeKnalED_mehh0Ecylx6feU9S-6GxRIFqAomX1sV7L2-6-c8M6AaSIq_a1ZeSX3exl1hEMw4PdCDkzH-fHH9LGqGZu7zlhfhULVfNtbwT1bWrOJRC1XiDcsJE6WwaCPF7jHl-wY2XfxmEEV5-YW8v_zE/s640/manor%20park%20play%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="380" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0wXbvTMhUUZJ5-XoEjFjCJOytxUo6VlDJMeKnalED_mehh0Ecylx6feU9S-6GxRIFqAomX1sV7L2-6-c8M6AaSIq_a1ZeSX3exl1hEMw4PdCDkzH-fHH9LGqGZu7zlhfhULVfNtbwT1bWrOJRC1XiDcsJE6WwaCPF7jHl-wY2XfxmEEV5-YW8v_zE/w238-h400/manor%20park%20play%20-%201.jpeg" width="238" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Apo you said you’re not strong but she was and lifted him to
the ground. Straight to the swinging logs, jiggle and balance,
nothing like being in his water element.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Where’s my Mummy he said after slurping a cup of sorbet. We
dawdled home. There's Mummy coming through the door!</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-5216220840763995292023-06-06T07:19:00.001-04:002023-06-06T07:19:51.893-04:00Max goes to Athens<span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>What does anyone know of Greece?
</i></span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">JaegerMax knows the stories of Orionos and Odysseus. Orionos
the hunter was the son of Poseidon and beloved by Artemis. After he was bitten
by a scorpion, Orion became immortal in the sky and now he can be seen from
most places on earth. Jaeger son of Orion must be the grandson of Poseidon,
no wonder he loves the sea so much!</span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">Odysseus the wanderer sailed for home after the Trojan war. He
was blown off course by the wind. On the island of Polyphemus the one-eyed
cyclops tending his sheep, Odysseus tricked the shepherd by telling him his
name is “no one.” Outis or Kanenas. When the other cyclops asked who was hurting him, he shouted No one!<br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><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/AVvXsEjeR61rVEhOttyJytahHnVWOePb4b8MLGBGWqzjFG4-fKDx871C-ALVxsIKSRY2kZz_F6V-ijGJAc6dJXlciW_GJQpZtotwpcrYmqYALq1EEA059cT89CUhJZ-vRFu4jr6XHKhccTrGlZC2UaCcNHXU2IHg0r4x-v9bb5yUqE38z5S7iyHH1CxsBj3J/s4032/greece%20max%20fountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeR61rVEhOttyJytahHnVWOePb4b8MLGBGWqzjFG4-fKDx871C-ALVxsIKSRY2kZz_F6V-ijGJAc6dJXlciW_GJQpZtotwpcrYmqYALq1EEA059cT89CUhJZ-vRFu4jr6XHKhccTrGlZC2UaCcNHXU2IHg0r4x-v9bb5yUqE38z5S7iyHH1CxsBj3J/w480-h640/greece%20max%20fountain.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Max takes the metro in Syntegma<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Efcharisto</i></span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">It is already night and two hours ahead of London when Max is
in the taxi from the airport. <span> </span>In the
dark dark, he sees the brightest star and the waxing moon. He notices everything. Kostas the driver says,
he doesn’t stop. Max nudges Apo and whispers in her ear, ask him the words to
say thank you.
</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">Efcharisto, the first Greek word Max learns. Bright smiles whenever
he says efcharisto, with perfect accent. </span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">Next morning was bright and warm. Apartment buildings as tall
as the old pine trees block the view to the sea. The sun rose over a craggy
hill that looks like a place for sheep, maybe the sheep of one-eyed shepherd
Polyphemus.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">At Plaka the city centre, Max did not climb the Acropolis to
see the broken temples. Instead he looked for the bracelet with an eye the
colour of his own, and a purse to protect his euros. </span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">It seems everyone is looking for a place to eat. Tables and chairs
occupy the sidewalks, dining rooms spill onto streets. Crowded cafes are
loud with laughter. Much amusement when he leaves shops and cafes with
<i>Efcharisto</i>!</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><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/AVvXsEiDwgID1PYzLH1dJC7_y_cZlEnSRNdzavusP9dHagpXgJg6SPge71UBm2TuLxv1yJG1TG1tnFsgOYYuMTeKYMADRvIJ8UN4WdUPY6JL4CMMHm1eyfqEZNcsuLUqEmzBuLB27WE-oAFFjMTLO_ZLeoAfJOj5szUncUVl3utcUEvcyatz9D__rpJG3W62/s2048/greece%20take%20the%20shot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDwgID1PYzLH1dJC7_y_cZlEnSRNdzavusP9dHagpXgJg6SPge71UBm2TuLxv1yJG1TG1tnFsgOYYuMTeKYMADRvIJ8UN4WdUPY6JL4CMMHm1eyfqEZNcsuLUqEmzBuLB27WE-oAFFjMTLO_ZLeoAfJOj5szUncUVl3utcUEvcyatz9D__rpJG3W62/w480-h640/greece%20take%20the%20shot.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tsipouris: on a busy street of restaurants, Max takes shot after shot!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>
</i></span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Take the Shot!</i></span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">At the restaurant, Leah is served her favourite, tzatziki,
cucumber and Greek yogurt. Orion, a hungry hunter, gets a platter of
grilled lamb chops that look like they may have come from Polyphemos’ flock. At
the end, a tiny flask of tsipouro (anise flavoured wine liqueur clear as water)
is offered. Max joins and encourages the toasts, knocking back water and shouting
Take the shot!</span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">Max had many happy meals of fries and cheese in Athens but
no one else offered tsipouro. Max continues to take the shot.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <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/AVvXsEhqH2o5hEj38l3irnxkS45VZOzgWi2sSmFONQPjLG5KuNw1_G8Cz5tnjH6eDguzHXMbrwHF4ITAYpdPghAx5ZQCVU6o_83M_HrQsMKp-M81eCbJYNTtbNjVYetHzKfuAOmtWIoiL_jH1s6lvwyOv0i3lv3PnjoE-Qa0qsakHT3UpN9KC7pBNu11L4CY/s4032/greece%20little%20kook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqH2o5hEj38l3irnxkS45VZOzgWi2sSmFONQPjLG5KuNw1_G8Cz5tnjH6eDguzHXMbrwHF4ITAYpdPghAx5ZQCVU6o_83M_HrQsMKp-M81eCbJYNTtbNjVYetHzKfuAOmtWIoiL_jH1s6lvwyOv0i3lv3PnjoE-Qa0qsakHT3UpN9KC7pBNu11L4CY/w640-h480/greece%20little%20kook.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Kook features Alice and all the magic of Wonderland.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Greek friends</i></span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">Max brought gifts for Bruno his friend’s dog but didn’t get
to see him. He did celebrate Omi and Elinor at Amigos where he tried fried ice
cream. The best ice cream was near the Pita Bar where Omi took them for dinner.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <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/AVvXsEigidZOG4nTbd7vTJ57OqB_rbvaerd5pMJVf96S5f3sPOsAJME39abhz5o3Wuy-MJSpkngCkp0SFktK6zRTyJon0eQqLrsUcvRMEFQMI0j4VNphxi75SFC7d5EeOKyAE3ef3KU26W3qtPLZsGF-D24L7KTwga0pKhBl3dg_AX8qX7zGy2zWxu6UuYjI/s2048/greece%20amigos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigidZOG4nTbd7vTJ57OqB_rbvaerd5pMJVf96S5f3sPOsAJME39abhz5o3Wuy-MJSpkngCkp0SFktK6zRTyJon0eQqLrsUcvRMEFQMI0j4VNphxi75SFC7d5EeOKyAE3ef3KU26W3qtPLZsGF-D24L7KTwga0pKhBl3dg_AX8qX7zGy2zWxu6UuYjI/w480-h640/greece%20amigos.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dinner with friends<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Looking for the Beach</i></span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Across the Poseidon road, over the tramline, and behind beachfront apartments, he came to the beach. The sea
splashed cold green and mysterious with shells and creatures. Max had to get in the water,
striking out until Orion pulled him back. They went looking for the
best beach. Past marinas full of fancy boats, past the small fishing fleet
slung with nets, past other fancy clubs. Disappointment, Asteria was still under
construction. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><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/AVvXsEiqFXk0ZSeiTMfDS3e3rnlZQySJD_qlnmtKCJvxxC3DFP8eC24gmNxF7Dgu_Gpx6f4rPlEn_ZvVN7T9X-67zwxtFcx2bs20cgRubtODDkM8k1NpnRFcPKTma9P0TWoeJCSTX54AoyK5F2m1GnhtE5DFxES1xYBshgOxSKc49nElfAEX2PEWg_1wIfh-/s4032/greece%20orion%20max%20leah%20beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqFXk0ZSeiTMfDS3e3rnlZQySJD_qlnmtKCJvxxC3DFP8eC24gmNxF7Dgu_Gpx6f4rPlEn_ZvVN7T9X-67zwxtFcx2bs20cgRubtODDkM8k1NpnRFcPKTma9P0TWoeJCSTX54AoyK5F2m1GnhtE5DFxES1xYBshgOxSKc49nElfAEX2PEWg_1wIfh-/w640-h480/greece%20orion%20max%20leah%20beach.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the beach in Glyfada<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">Back to the Oasis, the bright blue pool, 3.5 m at the deep
end, was never more inviting! With his own ball to practise treading and
throwing, Max found Sophocles in the baby pool. He shyly took the ball and tossed
it back. Then came Demetrius and Vassilis who were big enough to throw hard
over Max’s head. But Max who must be the grandson of Poseidon grew his power
to grab the ball. By the end of play, without words, Sophocles and Max
were holding their own.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx2PlXiSrvfgnKcYjDwTtRDpWfJrLQDNUOlTa8uc8Db9BezUbMydcuPUN7TcceA95od-HcLTkRBMWDb0wpMORiNlfYBEBZYQrmxggmkKqqh46vAGOtP-m_M4OiuN6rvPl6zeqSuYUldwtfVmqxP-pStxBMwqcH33pdkm4PaHFXLAA084IHbscyeaKo/s2048/greece%20waterpolo%20thrw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx2PlXiSrvfgnKcYjDwTtRDpWfJrLQDNUOlTa8uc8Db9BezUbMydcuPUN7TcceA95od-HcLTkRBMWDb0wpMORiNlfYBEBZYQrmxggmkKqqh46vAGOtP-m_M4OiuN6rvPl6zeqSuYUldwtfVmqxP-pStxBMwqcH33pdkm4PaHFXLAA084IHbscyeaKo/w300-h400/greece%20waterpolo%20thrw.jpg" width="300" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><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/AVvXsEgcyjElrxtHJpJyDAeXq00XagBTk4ffP6jEFhiOXxbtdGniK3O-g9O7kjSx7K4ePQyItWk4Myhx7-Kw-0UOaDsxwXlG-K7_9snW7RsjVb5JZoW1xMa2i_v6B_97J2kppPEW_KG4gW6xnnKOibc0m162Daafb_KJOiQ2buKsQWe_kgfY7j_XxlxYg85a/s2048/greece%20vsssilis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcyjElrxtHJpJyDAeXq00XagBTk4ffP6jEFhiOXxbtdGniK3O-g9O7kjSx7K4ePQyItWk4Myhx7-Kw-0UOaDsxwXlG-K7_9snW7RsjVb5JZoW1xMa2i_v6B_97J2kppPEW_KG4gW6xnnKOibc0m162Daafb_KJOiQ2buKsQWe_kgfY7j_XxlxYg85a/w480-h640/greece%20vsssilis.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Max takes a shot at Vassilis<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span><p></p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Would you go back to Greece?</i><br />
In London, Max tells stories of Polyphemus his transformer giant whose
companion is a Blue Bear. Max has made a raft that Polyphemus can ride on, in
search of Odysseus. Poseidon aka Omeros cruises beneath the sea in his
submarine vessel. The Greek stories are alive in his head!</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><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/AVvXsEhPuxHOKby4cpToVmENz-Ib2W3Pa_Dsds2t-hXM6q7T5UWJWjbsjO-hyWW5-09IvHCdemP_1C-KUKO2rIi3xaVgERv1ayluRii7T3Q328SbYEXuidavAhLErP9HGRCZTZXz3IRmP1gzGay-jq_NoqJiTe1HI5GQr2bydXXJLLIFFsKbfRh8JReWHzQY/s4032/greece%20max%20orion%20beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPuxHOKby4cpToVmENz-Ib2W3Pa_Dsds2t-hXM6q7T5UWJWjbsjO-hyWW5-09IvHCdemP_1C-KUKO2rIi3xaVgERv1ayluRii7T3Q328SbYEXuidavAhLErP9HGRCZTZXz3IRmP1gzGay-jq_NoqJiTe1HI5GQr2bydXXJLLIFFsKbfRh8JReWHzQY/w400-h300/greece%20max%20orion%20beach.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the shore towards Aegina<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </span></span></p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-10651824020272373382023-05-14T09:06:00.000-04:002023-05-14T09:06:57.870-04:00Mary's send off<p>
</p><p>
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">On
April 25, 2023, a group of people came together in the garden at the Kariwak
Village to pay tribute to Mary Dena Rutten Hall who died on March 30.</span></i></p><p><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></i>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><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/AVvXsEghKbuQDTOUW7-AuPTaCle_mHZD5-i-8M8bnfELsn6LPdOaeJ_KxDmLiVMhUIXnlhBw5cFN-mu_cSJz24tdp4J4YbCFAN0r2cdH2NHSKxP-hKXjfnNA8ID1rFcGn14QJmMVppFyo6DRNEr3m2ZFccrJOyeN7jXhMBJaax25da7yXFzjQynLWVBQw5eq/s1024/mauri%20lindsay%20mary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghKbuQDTOUW7-AuPTaCle_mHZD5-i-8M8bnfELsn6LPdOaeJ_KxDmLiVMhUIXnlhBw5cFN-mu_cSJz24tdp4J4YbCFAN0r2cdH2NHSKxP-hKXjfnNA8ID1rFcGn14QJmMVppFyo6DRNEr3m2ZFccrJOyeN7jXhMBJaax25da7yXFzjQynLWVBQw5eq/w640-h480/mauri%20lindsay%20mary.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mauri, Lindsay, Mary and Kaiso, Canada 2022<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Mary Dena
Rutten Hall left a legacy of love, to her children Mauri and Lindsay, to Tobago
and the world as she knew it. For more than 30 years, she sowed the seeds of
empowerment and life skills as she cultivated self-esteem and independent
innovative thinking in a generation of graduates; 25 years at the MK Hall Community
School in Carnbee Tobago. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Mary always
said that “knowledge comes from within.” She believed fiercely in the human
potential and how it should be nurtured and allowed to develop and flourish in
children. “I am always fascinated by the flexibility and total acceptance of
children and their ability to completely live in the present.” She chose to
make her life’s work with children. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">At the
little gathering in the garden at the Kariwak Village on April 25, 2023 –
almost a month after Mary slipped quietly “into the next room” - memories were
shared and Mary’s spirit invoked again and again, by those who knew her, who
were taught by her and those who still can’t believe that she’s not at the
other end of a phone line waiting to hear their news.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Phill Williams
was talking with her just a few weeks ago. He was trying to encourage Mary to
reopen her school, especially for his young daughter, “I want her to have the
experience of Mary’s school.” </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Roy Small,
the neighbour who looked out for her, remembered the last day, she died at home
and he was the one who found her. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Openly,
and in private conversations, there was love, respect and indebtedness to Mary
and the way she ran her school.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Allan
Clovis was at university with Tony Hall. When he returned to Tobago to invest
in and open the Kariwak, he encouraged Tony and Mary to settle in Tobago. His
daughter Mykl was a student at Mary’s school, she now lives on an island off
the Pacific coast of British Colombia where her 11 year old son is learning
from the land, the forest and the ocean. Mykl said Mary was the first person with
whom she felt “seen and heard.” Their early relationship grew over the years
because Mary was always curious and generous with understanding.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Cynthia
Clovis asked Allan to read the Maya Angelou statement which she felt expressed
Mary’s achievement: “</span><span class="hgkelc"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">My mission in life is not merely
to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion,
some humor, and some style.” </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Mary’s
students and Mauri’s contemporaries – Tenny Mapp and Kester Elliot – spoke of
her kindness. They gravitated to her home because she saw what they needed and was
a mother to them.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">From
Canada, Mauri’s wife Lisa sent a voice note to say how much she appreciated learning
from Mary through all the practical everyday tips and thoughts when they were
together. Their daughter Maya took the phone from Lisa to add her few words,
bringing a child’s understanding of the finality of death to the gathering.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><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/AVvXsEh4EV3CBR4M1ZASMcSygScMFSIn2LE1PWQ_nfmBwecgui_OjSgrNYuGdLJ7GpTn6aQJItFhfJUFsfyw2CSIRmQcgcl8h9LI5TaNQccPEFfeXLtnOM2LfS8MiTDfGxBR20V18EX8tFnONQFIdi2KWA_RVmjgitoqwaB-NSHHRJoEqiErjzL42yLjoUxO/s2016/del%20and%20marilyn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4EV3CBR4M1ZASMcSygScMFSIn2LE1PWQ_nfmBwecgui_OjSgrNYuGdLJ7GpTn6aQJItFhfJUFsfyw2CSIRmQcgcl8h9LI5TaNQccPEFfeXLtnOM2LfS8MiTDfGxBR20V18EX8tFnONQFIdi2KWA_RVmjgitoqwaB-NSHHRJoEqiErjzL42yLjoUxO/w640-h480/del%20and%20marilyn.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Dell
Williams (left) and Marilyn Khabir (right) worked with Mary Hall at the Michael
K Hall Community School. Jamela is Marilyn’s daughter. Jasper is the son of one
of Mary’s students. Legacy is Marilyn’s grandson, Jamela’s son.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Mary’s
colleagues, fellow teachers, spoke about what they learned from her, how they
appreciated her counsel and caring, and practical purpose-driven approach to
children’s education. Marilyn Khabir who taught alongside Mary at the MK Hall
school sang the nursery rhyme, Mary had a little lamb, to say that all the
little lambs who followed Mary were properly cared for, directly or indirectly.
Lisa Joseph operated Calisa’s Prep School to graduate its students into MK Hall.
She was in regular communication with Mary, learning from her and sharing her
teaching philosophy.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Sofia
Hirschmann had brought her German speaking daughters to Mary’s school and
within a term they were fluent in English and integrated. Also testifying to
the range of activities at Mary’s school was Anthony Williams, tennis coach who
was amazed that in all the time MK Hall offered tennis, only one racquet was
damaged.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">When she
was not with children, Mary loved her garden: the big trees which shaded her
house but especially the herbs she grew in square foot allotments – basil,
pimento, chadon beni, thyme, rosemary – and which went into her pot. Everything
was flavoured from her garden. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> <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/AVvXsEiqSl-ue8-tgswUK_2yzbJ_Jao7rcu4NDo3Ny1TBF8WUiIHdoZhtwNVe_S8QpRurwB7qNxVk9repng-XUbkEE3BNPmuPA_CBLlh3ixkJckdstwwf8eLmA-cWhr3M8JhVl06JOmRm8se9Boa58oN7u5_z1UA7bqIImmpuE5uha2fe-lWhD0tO3Xhuivo/s640/ayla%20mary%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqSl-ue8-tgswUK_2yzbJ_Jao7rcu4NDo3Ny1TBF8WUiIHdoZhtwNVe_S8QpRurwB7qNxVk9repng-XUbkEE3BNPmuPA_CBLlh3ixkJckdstwwf8eLmA-cWhr3M8JhVl06JOmRm8se9Boa58oN7u5_z1UA7bqIImmpuE5uha2fe-lWhD0tO3Xhuivo/w640-h480/ayla%20mary%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ayla and Mary at Kariwak<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span><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/AVvXsEiIilBjuZmiwxePChqnKirpue7EBXvegz8DzXTuwxt9Z2j3FdJoUeWfFacTSJO3wD9B6SHz_5TpcRnadm3JZFksNMewkR0GCR8pIrB8rqecC8noxWitaYOfiJ6KqPgo3l7AV0ssriiUwHWn2WLKoAsqVW3s6C6PCMhoBQaFddsrPSPwj4kgHKIvbWTA/s640/ayla%202021%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIilBjuZmiwxePChqnKirpue7EBXvegz8DzXTuwxt9Z2j3FdJoUeWfFacTSJO3wD9B6SHz_5TpcRnadm3JZFksNMewkR0GCR8pIrB8rqecC8noxWitaYOfiJ6KqPgo3l7AV0ssriiUwHWn2WLKoAsqVW3s6C6PCMhoBQaFddsrPSPwj4kgHKIvbWTA/w640-h480/ayla%202021%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ayla</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><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/AVvXsEhPw490FRyxtOBevh6c1Y-o2LKgIGITzjgGu7TZvtngi8ScwOfzHYWqzLDMVkEkatNYaUF_pUQccfKY54zRJ-Mqc6DHTtsTnUis1rGk15aLShNOna28zfg2oKF4uk7Pcv3XhHvjxzBw5DhYYzKGjst1FgesZwsC3r3g2Dm--jruFDyvY2Uh7yq3ycAb/s2048/mason%20kaiso.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPw490FRyxtOBevh6c1Y-o2LKgIGITzjgGu7TZvtngi8ScwOfzHYWqzLDMVkEkatNYaUF_pUQccfKY54zRJ-Mqc6DHTtsTnUis1rGk15aLShNOna28zfg2oKF4uk7Pcv3XhHvjxzBw5DhYYzKGjst1FgesZwsC3r3g2Dm--jruFDyvY2Uh7yq3ycAb/w640-h480/mason%20kaiso.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mason and Kaiso, Canada 2022<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/AVvXsEhnxp1T0itQN6uXy2HRctnC33BB1c8AMuFWf7Tanzy4g0sS2TC4yVfc6KE-HruTAigR1e9RQmKS6Yu-XYZsmm6T1gasN_TZcop6lvY78MkiHICi01Pr7w6LXu2jmHejitJwqtnF4SIN_R0EBjV6VkMrXhUOcZioo8AqQIkiPbINX74A9QGGS1syvNOK/s1024/maya%20and%20mason.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnxp1T0itQN6uXy2HRctnC33BB1c8AMuFWf7Tanzy4g0sS2TC4yVfc6KE-HruTAigR1e9RQmKS6Yu-XYZsmm6T1gasN_TZcop6lvY78MkiHICi01Pr7w6LXu2jmHejitJwqtnF4SIN_R0EBjV6VkMrXhUOcZioo8AqQIkiPbINX74A9QGGS1syvNOK/w480-h640/maya%20and%20mason.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maya and Mason<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Let’s
leave her in this picture, on the occasion with Mauri and Lindsay, watching
the children grow: </span><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It has been just great having all
this time with all of them. Mason is adorable and such a happy and contented
baby. He is very anxious to get moving and tries all the time. Very determined
and very strong. He has a very solid body type, with lots of muscles.</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ayla and Maya have so much fun
together. Real partners. They go to school together and are in the same class,
so you know… They conflict strongly when they do, as they are quite different
in personalities, and both are very strong; but mostly they have a ball together.</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I bought some pens and a
sketch pad and have been doing some drawing, outdoors in nature, now that it is
so nice and warm. Haven’t done that for years! </span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> <br /></span><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/AVvXsEhEHPleNII14AnpHeOqx0hlCUXxWnOyRUJB6rvEuaA_K6ifz8cTN0OlEwh_TCtz5Ds8pqcsFkP6OhyCD0rMudNYZu0VWAP5ja9D6hfv89LEz3IZ4lR5Ma5CddQXCGdwrLXJqgotbnd6KxGhfpXkAlV_zSpps0TfcNhkD8cpQlx_4Iwwu04B-3rY5M1v/s1024/lisa%20mason%20and%20family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHPleNII14AnpHeOqx0hlCUXxWnOyRUJB6rvEuaA_K6ifz8cTN0OlEwh_TCtz5Ds8pqcsFkP6OhyCD0rMudNYZu0VWAP5ja9D6hfv89LEz3IZ4lR5Ma5CddQXCGdwrLXJqgotbnd6KxGhfpXkAlV_zSpps0TfcNhkD8cpQlx_4Iwwu04B-3rY5M1v/w480-h640/lisa%20mason%20and%20family.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family photo, 2022<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p><style>@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</style>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-83830235927887813432023-04-05T15:41:00.005-04:002023-04-06T19:43:17.832-04:00From Canada to Tobago<p>
</p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Mary Dena
Rutten Hall came to Trinidad and Tobago over 40 years ago, put down roots and
changed the lives of a generation of youngsters through the Michael K Hall
community School. </span></p><p><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">(Mary Hall, September 10, 1949 - March 30, 2023)</span></i>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></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/AVvXsEi6b0sXt4s4cks5kRHR87NP7A7DW69JAsqWSslENb1J3_uyoBMlPi4BNgFSCqYxLgtiQ79ZauCe63BKD-Tk7ULlvDOK26huE0VWfa0iJso5ZOJgloL6Qo63swTup8BCkptXxnrrq-ixwo4jyNObpmrgG3ajwiSfOYEg5x2UULeDMKm8t5OytR48jQMJ/s640/mary%20tony%202.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="425" data-original-width="640" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6b0sXt4s4cks5kRHR87NP7A7DW69JAsqWSslENb1J3_uyoBMlPi4BNgFSCqYxLgtiQ79ZauCe63BKD-Tk7ULlvDOK26huE0VWfa0iJso5ZOJgloL6Qo63swTup8BCkptXxnrrq-ixwo4jyNObpmrgG3ajwiSfOYEg5x2UULeDMKm8t5OytR48jQMJ/w640-h426/mary%20tony%202.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mary and Tony Hall <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Mauri was
a toddler looking up from under tousled curls with eyes that seemed to pierce
your brain when I first met Mary. She came to the office on my Dad's farm to collect
the keys for the apartment on Hutton Road. A year later, we were neighbours.
Our sons made mischief together, Mauri the ringleader mainly because he was
older and Orion believed that he could do anything that Mauri did. The day
before Anjani was born, Mauri and a bigger boy had a bicycle upended and were
spinning the wheels; Orion stuck his thumb in the gears. Mary cleaned and
bandaged that injury.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">When Mary
and Tony and Mauri went to live in Tobago, we returned </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">to our
poultry farm in</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> Santa Cruz .</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Mary and I
were farm girls; she in a wintry Canadian province, Alberta; me on a chicken
farm in Santa Cruz. The two farms could not be further apart or more different
but the sensibilities were the same. Mary grew up with seasons of produce; with
livestock that kept their larder full. “We had winter snows where you couldn’t
open the doors. You went to the barn holding on to the rope tied from house to barn.
You could get lost and freeze to death in the snow in your own yard.” Mary Dena
Rutten’s father had the soul and spirit of a musician but farming was how he
made sure his family was well-fed. Her mother was a housewife raising eight
children, and also a teacher.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">At the
University of Alberta in Edmonton, Mary trained to be a nurse, with psychology
and special education courses. She met Tony who was pursuing his degree in
theatre. When she moved to Trinidad with Tony, she became a teacher. She taught
at St Andrew’s in Maraval, gently allowing students to find themselves beyond
the curriculum.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Tony found
a home for them in Santa Cruz. She shared a cherished memory of the first time
Tony took her there. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“He didn’t tell me
where we were going. The valley was green and smelled of rain. There was
sunlight and sparkle everywhere. I thought I had gone to heaven.” When they
moved out of Santa Cruz, Tony bought land on one of the ridges; as he also did in
Tobago on the ridge above Mason Hall.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Mary and
Tony had arrived in Trinidad in 1983 inspired by a vision of national and human
development through the arts. They moved to Tobago in 1987 to work towards that
dream, a community school and art colony. They lived in Bacolet; Mary teaching
in the school run by her friend; Tony commuting between Tobago and Trinidad to
fulfil his commitments to indigenous television and theatre in carnival. Lindsay
was born in 1988. Mary opened their one room community school in 1994, named
after Tony’s teacher father, the Michael K Hall School.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Mary’s
school enrolled primary students aged four+ to 12 in a one-room classroom; 35 to 40 students each year. With her training in nursing and psychology for special
needs children, she developed scores of programmes in practice-based and
nature-based learning. She used every opportunity in the real world to teach:
caring for a horse, growing a garden, making pizza. Outings to rivers and
waterfalls and to the Asa Wright Nature Centre in Trinidad were carefully
planned. The children loved their lessons and the land.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Over 25
years, she graduated hundreds of bright, motivated, purposeful young people who
imagined and entered a world where they are useful. Many remember the school fondly. One student said, “Aunty Mary gave us a different mindset,
about school, about learning.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Marilyn
Khabir who taught at MK Hall, for 25 years, remembers, “</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mary
had a good sense of humour. She would make us laugh at the odd time when others
in her words were ‘stiff and trying to be proper.’ One morning I called her in
a panic, I was running late, travelling by two taxis from Moriah to Carnbee. She
laughed and said, take the scenic route, and bring me a soup!”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">MK Hall Community School moved into Mary’s home in Carnbee
No 1. One tiny classroom was an ajoupa thatched with leaves brought from the
Moruga forest. The main classroom had computers. And there was a garden from
which the produce could go into cooking or the Friday market which the children
ran.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Craving Tobago, we have crashed in Mary’s spare room. On
special occasions, Mary would make pizza for us. The sauce would start with
herbs from her garden, tomatoes, thyme, basil, chadon beni and would go through
a long simmering process. Mary stirred her sauce, drank black coffee and
talked. Two or three hours later, bellies hitting our backs, the pizza would be
put in the oven. Mary’s was the most delicious pizza we ever had, but we were often
afraid to get her started! She was a methodical cook, fond of experimenting with flavours. She made vegetarian dishes for
Tony; gluten-free for Lindsay; rich desserts which she would freeze in parts to
enjoy a portion a day.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></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/AVvXsEh3j69F_fF7oORc9hN7Cn2BRamptnX4vk2VieJZkrplMutPZ_--z8T4VpNw9AGOduVhHxy8o9n7_6YmpeOt7PZy-S3ZqBdsfA3cz2cW20PwQziEQ8YkHQB8XbSo2BSF465t8PpH-1uchW6-S-mEr8vOTdykq6JszPuQGvQo9-Cjnh1SKnrOJz0GZavX/s1660/pat%20lindsay%20ayla%20mary%202021.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1175" data-original-width="1660" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3j69F_fF7oORc9hN7Cn2BRamptnX4vk2VieJZkrplMutPZ_--z8T4VpNw9AGOduVhHxy8o9n7_6YmpeOt7PZy-S3ZqBdsfA3cz2cW20PwQziEQ8YkHQB8XbSo2BSF465t8PpH-1uchW6-S-mEr8vOTdykq6JszPuQGvQo9-Cjnh1SKnrOJz0GZavX/w640-h454/pat%20lindsay%20ayla%20mary%202021.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mary, Pat, Lindsay and Ayla at breakfast at the Kariwak, 2020<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Later on, we would meet at Sandy Point or the Kariwak which
remained Mary’s home away from home. For any special treat, birthday, or just
to rest, Mary would check in to the Kariwak which became a meeting
place for breakfast, lunch or dinner. The beach at the Grange was another special place where Tony and Mary would swim for half an hour at dawn; even on days when she would return with salt still on her skin to open the school.<br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tony died unexpectedly at home in April 2020. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary was grateful that it was a quick and
peaceful passing. She grieved quietly: memories would pop up suddenly and she
fought them down. You have to watch your mind, she would say, it could trick
you into following a thought or memory and then you would be lost. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Every week or fortnight, we had a regular visit courtesy an
online app. We would relax, cup of tea or other beverage at hand, and talk for
hours; mainly about the children, Mauri’s PhD, Lindsay’s online classes;
sometimes about Canada and her family; sometimes about the days when we were
hustling non-stop, jobs, raising children and minding husbands; sometimes about
growing old; occasionally about her digestive ailment that seemed to be
seasonal or environmental. These chats were mainly about the laughter and each other’s company; and what we had survived.
Sometimes Ayla would pop into the frame showing her outfit trying to take
Granny back into her world. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mary’s grand-daughters, Maya (Mauri) and Ayla (Lindsay) were
born a month apart in 2016. Her grandson, Mason (Mauri) was born in late 2021.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Her philosophy in these last years: it’s our time to be
slow; let’s eat the good food; when you get tired, leave it till tomorrow. She said to me, "Losing your soul mate is unfathomable. The body and mind try to adapt, explain, justify ... but all of that is totally on the wrong track. All that is left is to ride the waves and see where it takes you. No end in mind cause the mind is of no use in these matters." And on those occasions, we would laugh some more about the exploits of Tony or Ranji.<br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She travelled to Canada in 2022 after covid; Lindsay had
returned to university in summer 2021, taking Ayla.
It was a happy family reunion, to see Mauri and Lisa, Maya and the new grandson
Mason; to visit the campus where Lindsay and Ayla would live; where Maya and
Ayla were at school; to fall into their routines. She never tired of watching children, how authentic, how they changed, how creative they could be.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She enjoyed Canada when it was warmer and had already planned to go from May to July this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She was also sure she would not leave Tobago, fixing and keeping the home for
whenever Lindsay or Mauri and their families would visit. From Canada to San Fernando to Port of Spain, she chose Tobago for all seasons. She would say she worked too hard to build her
home in a warm sunny place, and had no thought of leaving Tobago.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></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/AVvXsEgx5kvH9dpVPvlWmEKXEiPgIy6VVD7e2Cp6C1jhVcBGzFwRmn640HhbX4X5CClKZpYjbfAq6IOCpAO7FayRtEil4mTuoYFA1w-nap4iszH3NTiGv-xlUq8H7lt1bH9Iy63Wn_fPZ4OTu9OslmkZYTRJbvNZpa_7Dlk0_ndvR_LSqLIxHkO1xoFSmIq6/s1733/IMG_1904.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1733" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx5kvH9dpVPvlWmEKXEiPgIy6VVD7e2Cp6C1jhVcBGzFwRmn640HhbX4X5CClKZpYjbfAq6IOCpAO7FayRtEil4mTuoYFA1w-nap4iszH3NTiGv-xlUq8H7lt1bH9Iy63Wn_fPZ4OTu9OslmkZYTRJbvNZpa_7Dlk0_ndvR_LSqLIxHkO1xoFSmIq6/w400-h333/IMG_1904.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Around 2010, Mary started painting again. She gave me this view as a birthday present.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> More reading about Mary's school and her involvement in the way children learn:<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">https://wildgirlwildworld.blogspot.com/2013/07/41-years.html</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">https://wildgirlwildworld.blogspot.com/2012/09/a-school-in-tobago.html</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">https://wildtobago.blogspot.com/2020/09/school-at-home.html</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">https://wildtobago.blogspot.com/2020/10/lets-get-children-back-to-nature.html</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">https://wildtobago.blogspot.com/2020/12/exploring-our-island-home.html<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-82683550759006955092023-04-03T09:11:00.003-04:002023-04-03T09:11:56.253-04:00Uniting Mind and Body<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">In primary school, we stood in the large paved quadrangle under our panama hats. Maybe we did stretches - hands up, hands out, up, out, touch your toes - before we belted out the morning song to the accompaniment of Umilta McShine's strident and purposeful piano. <i>So, there has been dawning another new day/ Think, will thou let it slip useless away?/ Out of eternity / This new day is born; / Into eternity,/ At night, will return.</i> And then we marched inside, one class at a time.</p><p class="MsoNormal">The other occasional vivid memories of the Tranquil schoolyard include the games we played: In a Fine Castle, The Farmer in the Dell, In and Out the Dusty Bluebells, One on a Root (leaping the island roots under the giant samaan tree), Pitch with marbles and when those had been huffed, with the orange berries of the peepal tree.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Skip forward to high school, where PE was a thing: games uniform with flared skirt and bloomers. I had the widest bloomers and flariest skirt because my mother instructed the seamstress to use all the cloth. Those were the days of "too big is a fit" and "grow into it." So, long jump, high jump, running, rounders, later tennis, basketball and hockey. I once fainted on the playing field and had to be carried off bodily by our muscled games mistress to Matron where I spent the rest of the morning on cool white sheets.</p><p class="MsoNormal">All of this to say that I was not athletic nor sporty. There was enough to do on the farm, collecting and cleaning eggs, packing eggs in the hatchery. But I did begin to perceive the energy that could be released from vigorous physical activity. At university, my physical core component included swimming and dance, and walking - ambling - for long afternoons on our 400+ acre campus.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I managed to go through life with little formal exercise. This is not to say that I was a stranger to walking, hiking, lifting, gardening or physical exertion. I could work up a sweat in a fete: I danced as if there was no tomorrow. Aunts and uncles would smile and say, one day you'll be sitting out like us. Never! my head replied.</p><p class="MsoNormal">In my 20s, I found Richard Hittelman’s 28 day yoga plan. The Hittelman book had black and white photos and instructed
on getting into and holding different poses. In a desultory way, I started one 28 day plan, and enjoyed
contorting to the different positions. What I learned from Hittelman got me through many long nights especially working
on the Carnival magazine, and calmed me through difficult patches.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> But getting married and having children displaced personal
self care for more than 20 years.
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I returned to yoga, and Hittelman, in challenging
periods in high stress jobs: in the 1990s as a newspaper editor, then at the
national airline at the time when my mother died, a government ministry, failed
projects.</p><p>In 2006, I joined a company that had a gym on the floor where my office was located. I became a gym rat in my lunch breaks. The instructors laughed at my gym shoes, the ones I used to garden; and the random t-shirts and shorts when people were sporting coordinated tights. They took me in hand and created routines for me: lifting, running, stretching. For five years, the pinnacle of fitness in my life!</p><p>Seeking some kind of daily stretching after I retired, I tried to return to Hittelman in 2012 but like the black and white photos, it seemed to be stuck in a dark age. Then I discovered yoga online. Yoga with Adriene has been a comforting and comfortable practice since then. I like her voice and easy approach, and ten years on, the hundreds of recorded video guides in her library. Online, they can be done anywhere. I can choose ten-minute or longer sequences. And in sickness and health, these are easy to get to.</p><p>I've looked at other online practices - pilates, strenuous workouts with other guides - but Adriene suits my style and sensibility. Her voice becomes the voice in my head, soothing, encouraging, sustaining. I sometimes wonder about who she is, her life story but it's not essential to my daily practice; especially when I am in a sequence that she created one, four or five years ago. She has become the guide I hear.<br /></p><p>One other person that I refer to occasionally is Lindsay Hall whose practice was developed in Tobago. I know Lindsay, I saw her grow up. She is personal. I see her now on instagram creating sequences for herself. She is an inspiration: a body shaped and strong and flexible through yoga and her background in contemporary dance. <br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal">Yoga is not for every body. Other, more athletic people, need more strenuous workouts. Slow meditative yoga suits me fine. These are practices that remind us of what we are – a body
imperfect, exhaustible, failing, that’s animated by an inexhaustible mind which might simply be the sum total of electrical impulses causing
chemical reactions in the blood, bones, tissue.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But for moments, you can forget or be reminded of exactly
what you are in the infinity of space time and the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>universe. Not nothing... but something
like the expanding universe.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> <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/AVvXsEjqNVcScC0Q9eS6mjEOn1y_lYaBZhCsBPNuOYIJE1kWBbBLaz6zO6ju5No517bE4fr9uLK0YICJD8U_L87elMfKuiApcNOYRyQC-kjoss-D-v3T_KUw2InQoAyKtteyVn2Ez77oemsfJ7B5cn_z8sU-Rj1pPqNVZNXTS38EQbwThwhR0DQYGXQFMHLu/s720/blanchisseuse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="486" data-original-width="720" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqNVcScC0Q9eS6mjEOn1y_lYaBZhCsBPNuOYIJE1kWBbBLaz6zO6ju5No517bE4fr9uLK0YICJD8U_L87elMfKuiApcNOYRyQC-kjoss-D-v3T_KUw2InQoAyKtteyVn2Ez77oemsfJ7B5cn_z8sU-Rj1pPqNVZNXTS38EQbwThwhR0DQYGXQFMHLu/w640-h432/blanchisseuse.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">favourite state: at rest, preferably by the ocean. Blanchisseuse photo by Ranji Ganase<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-50167601276138549952023-02-01T13:10:00.007-04:002023-02-06T07:46:53.046-04:00TANTANA 1990<p>
</p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">In 1986, the advertising agency-cum-publishing company where
I worked was instrumental in the One Love campaign that brought the 33-3 landslide and the NAR to power. The honeymoon was over within weeks as the new
administration unearthed the irresponsibility of the oil-rich decade. The economy was in recession. Cracks
began to appear in the governing coalition resulting in the Club 88 splinter
leading to the formation of the UNC.<span> </span>
</span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">After <i>Carnival is Colour</i> (Minshall's award-winning band) in 1987, I quit the publishing job
and we returned to the farm: Orion was three; Anjani one. Working from home, I
was dealing with the management side of the farm; Ranji the operations; and trying
to assimilate and grow upon what my parents had built over 25 years. </span></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">By January 1990 - when the VAT Tax came into effect - I was
ensconced in farm life. We had aquarium fish, a horse, ducks, and the hatchery
was ticking over. Anjani who stayed home with me after our move to the farm, was
getting ready to go to kindergarten. It was another “best of times, worst of
times.” You never know when you’re sitting on the edge of a bubble about to
burst.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></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/AVvXsEjsvL8vQUwEyTxYpEsalVZOLQQCMde-RsoWy9Nd577hkf7HH_ZfN2st-k5ibcRhBnwh7jKgB7aDaUfl_gBtm4VqzkGWZ9bzwDuak1vJWJsbH43TlGGqnrV2sipZ59hzdGlQrp0a66bY3WPOSMPh_ES_-u5XR13n49VKJdXaWMchAEWNpumxJrwxSWV5/s640/massed%20on%20ariapita%20ave%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvL8vQUwEyTxYpEsalVZOLQQCMde-RsoWy9Nd577hkf7HH_ZfN2st-k5ibcRhBnwh7jKgB7aDaUfl_gBtm4VqzkGWZ9bzwDuak1vJWJsbH43TlGGqnrV2sipZ59hzdGlQrp0a66bY3WPOSMPh_ES_-u5XR13n49VKJdXaWMchAEWNpumxJrwxSWV5/w640-h428/massed%20on%20ariapita%20ave%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tantana, created by Peter Minshall, fills Ariapita Avenue. Photo by Ranji Ganase</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></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/AVvXsEiNoMqCs_ZfN9N3UssvopbdQLoaxZ7LFQAYFb87-s1Cmc6j5LEiGVtqdNDYxTW6vNt3cgVzSP7VLAX6NoResAu8ZUAiTzBLO6JhdsJ7Yn1AGteTd02u8UyyaoLu_1djGGOIYVQaugq7FB6_JPeV5butQxkt4TrpiWOCZLhxBZkn3nZTnUI6VgwPT8L7/s640/alyson%20brown%20tantan%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="427" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNoMqCs_ZfN9N3UssvopbdQLoaxZ7LFQAYFb87-s1Cmc6j5LEiGVtqdNDYxTW6vNt3cgVzSP7VLAX6NoResAu8ZUAiTzBLO6JhdsJ7Yn1AGteTd02u8UyyaoLu_1djGGOIYVQaugq7FB6_JPeV5butQxkt4TrpiWOCZLhxBZkn3nZTnUI6VgwPT8L7/w214-h320/alyson%20brown%20tantan%20-%201.jpeg" width="214" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tantana was designed and created by Peter Minshall and his Callaloo Company in 1990.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br />Carnival was late that year, February 26 and 27. I still had
an interest in mas and kaiso but without the need to run down coverage. Ranji
still liked to walk through Woodbrook with his camera on Carnival Tuesday. Then,
we had to wait a week to process the film and print the photos. His 1990 photos were
some of the most precious Minshall pictures of that decade. We had missed in
1988 and 1989, Jumbie (the cardboard band) and Santimanitay (the stadium band).</span></span><p></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">But here in the beginning of 1990 was hope; in the dancing
couple, TanTan and SagaBoy with a following of Trinidad and Tobago villages
from Bacolet and Cacandee to Parlatuvier and Plum Mitan, Rampanalgas to
Vessigny. Here was the masman again expressing an eternal truth, “all ah we is
one.” Trinbago Tantana in the highest form of art, mas.</span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></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/AVvXsEhxbCetjc7e0vMKXVI_jBsPfqq7TR5razktkJPTlHvZg1YzRvuSyaF6RS-VsL04MQRryEZtis-ODNHXYiThtKQFBF9xBU4Vc7zN5jPvSRqne684BGqPn8rb1kiy5FnfkTu_Xh3XuQU_6mYbGYPF0xnZHbMKvn0Xr2Yeo0zuPWlAjGo-PZ1bqRXhtrg7/s640/dancing%20couple%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbCetjc7e0vMKXVI_jBsPfqq7TR5razktkJPTlHvZg1YzRvuSyaF6RS-VsL04MQRryEZtis-ODNHXYiThtKQFBF9xBU4Vc7zN5jPvSRqne684BGqPn8rb1kiy5FnfkTu_Xh3XuQU_6mYbGYPF0xnZHbMKvn0Xr2Yeo0zuPWlAjGo-PZ1bqRXhtrg7/w400-h268/dancing%20couple%20-%201.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alyson Brown played Tantan; Peter Samuel played Saga Boy in Peter Minshall's Tantana<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Zv6fi3j1J94p2RZJ4UZ-_SyMLuAwjcGmycv_lT5bKQSfGOa9ROaSQfvtNfSEyoQEC7-XA9peq1gSHJNncZQA9A3Jw-FaHc8zb6TlOU__Te3OARJJlNojj_NIkaIAHr36ybb9IQLZrxkjOrs7xuHT_zGcxaClYCe6bIWTnUDFyaXJWYqE2ca9z_nV/s640/dancing%20couple%20-%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Zv6fi3j1J94p2RZJ4UZ-_SyMLuAwjcGmycv_lT5bKQSfGOa9ROaSQfvtNfSEyoQEC7-XA9peq1gSHJNncZQA9A3Jw-FaHc8zb6TlOU__Te3OARJJlNojj_NIkaIAHr36ybb9IQLZrxkjOrs7xuHT_zGcxaClYCe6bIWTnUDFyaXJWYqE2ca9z_nV/w400-h268/dancing%20couple%20-%202.jpeg" width="400" /></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/AVvXsEg44G3xj3c9YK-o3K4mYazJXVpCA0yOBmEofoTKWB4ZXZEbqjBbOYnb8KXfM7E5umt5tQAYsqOSr8iP-LfiaFYRObse97zcRh9-r7RuTvgE6DAck6BQ_u2Cy6zfY58jLcs80dhCV9yN1Oy2g4GbMiJGR4RHf1sP03tYI45QMq1iJ8y939znuPjlH_YH/s640/dancing%20couple%20-%206.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg44G3xj3c9YK-o3K4mYazJXVpCA0yOBmEofoTKWB4ZXZEbqjBbOYnb8KXfM7E5umt5tQAYsqOSr8iP-LfiaFYRObse97zcRh9-r7RuTvgE6DAck6BQ_u2Cy6zfY58jLcs80dhCV9yN1Oy2g4GbMiJGR4RHf1sP03tYI45QMq1iJ8y939znuPjlH_YH/w400-h268/dancing%20couple%20-%206.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TanTan and SagaBoy dancing on Ariapita Avenue. Photos by Ranji Ganase<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />“Tan-ta-naaaa,” in our Trini childhood, uttered while fingers
snapped, was usually a taunt or threat of reprimand, comess or
bacchanal. Tantan was an auntie while dandan was finery or fancy garments. In the
band notes, Minshall’s <i>Tantana</i> is Caribbean excitement, exuberance, “too much,”
an overflowing. Thought to be derived from the French “tant” (so much), tantana
is an abundance. We especially liked the seven-foot squares which could be
wrapped like capes or tied around the waist like bele skirts. I managed to
purchase a few after Carnival: they made perfect bed spreads or wall hangings and
gifts.</span></span><p></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUCsZOGcim0u018HR5Wf6Ly5MLXbkgYHx_-Yjz7wnkHnPOJvVYs481_1EKZfZeI2wpdpMYK7IolO-mUFE4ro80r_RR4NJSSiXN84JeUP0OVcYB6I3pfMYREnzfA9pw5gdGCbnu8OuOHlhs7-34jLVDzZwYo0b6xs_kmx5LNcrG7s6Xi5-EmFtKlAHX/s640/bachacs%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="427" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUCsZOGcim0u018HR5Wf6Ly5MLXbkgYHx_-Yjz7wnkHnPOJvVYs481_1EKZfZeI2wpdpMYK7IolO-mUFE4ro80r_RR4NJSSiXN84JeUP0OVcYB6I3pfMYREnzfA9pw5gdGCbnu8OuOHlhs7-34jLVDzZwYo0b6xs_kmx5LNcrG7s6Xi5-EmFtKlAHX/w268-h400/bachacs%20-%201.jpeg" width="268" /></a></span></span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></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/AVvXsEi9AzndJXdGu0frXpZeVc87_25poZm1xU7ns6oDpJBUINy7bAjHGfOxM7fyg4AowyIo8WmEMql5sQAqmlTGgVvr3RPOJsuzUmSKnbcN_xLncNvn_NWCDCCja38wiKmgpQK2WyigT7rnPEzQVotqNLZ1vLRcwuIWuXQWckpYVIVFrCVQ-kNv6gABwLEA/s640/bachacs%20-%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="427" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AzndJXdGu0frXpZeVc87_25poZm1xU7ns6oDpJBUINy7bAjHGfOxM7fyg4AowyIo8WmEMql5sQAqmlTGgVvr3RPOJsuzUmSKnbcN_xLncNvn_NWCDCCja38wiKmgpQK2WyigT7rnPEzQVotqNLZ1vLRcwuIWuXQWckpYVIVFrCVQ-kNv6gABwLEA/w268-h400/bachacs%20-%202.jpeg" width="268" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bachacs designed by Kathryn Chan, in Tantana, photos by Ranji Ganase <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />If <i>Tantana </i>was the high point of 1990, the Muslimeen Coup
was the low (recounted in other blogs <a href="https://wildgirlwildworld.blogspot.com/2020/09/the-dragon-dance.html">https://wildgirlwildworld.blogspot.com/2020/09/the-dragon-dance.html</a>)
and inspired one of David Rudder’s most powerful albums including the songs
1990 and Hoosay.</span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">Helen and Ugo and their boys landed at Piarco from Italy on the afternoon of the coup. We were locked down in Santa Cruz for a week before they were able to escape to Tobago. When we joined them there, we saw Tony Hall and Rudder just arrived from Toronto, aghast at all the international news they had been seeing. <br /></span></span></p><p></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">Before the end of that year, we travelled to
Charlotteville for the first time as a family. (https://wildgirlwildworld.blogspot.com/2013/01/finding-yourself-in-scottage-on-sea.html) <br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6CI6W0sUIyasJZ3PTir-au7Lu7dUPLgmbuQJp5Ej88qvLp7SlqGVLhuUfms2xja4kx9M5v7k2l7I2a2boNN0vHoKdTnQ4ba0PNtVCr_Cp7kqb2_1b3wKYXvexJQFhzKsdW_5RjvX7tbJWmvmZX4MC2HiYA2_yzA8yIFlMxcWuxYTtwsThfNj_CeM/s640/flagstaff%201990%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="430" data-original-width="640" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6CI6W0sUIyasJZ3PTir-au7Lu7dUPLgmbuQJp5Ej88qvLp7SlqGVLhuUfms2xja4kx9M5v7k2l7I2a2boNN0vHoKdTnQ4ba0PNtVCr_Cp7kqb2_1b3wKYXvexJQFhzKsdW_5RjvX7tbJWmvmZX4MC2HiYA2_yzA8yIFlMxcWuxYTtwsThfNj_CeM/w400-h269/flagstaff%201990%20-%201.jpeg" width="400" /></a></span></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"><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/AVvXsEhh_jWLHPNgxrcumOrm-PyQo2-2igY0ugWgv0n7-L0GVM6osRVyEjPCw0r1lVP6uwayktRl9LCiKodZCWxcTc3ofxDap9CvLRk0g9jNNgj1l2NBUFKkDKsoHOKx1zzIXmtq5m3XGAqiUQzJ6pLvb3OpC52vHQZINLlPiWnQBI3kK9dkI5o1NPxks9BB/s607/flagstaff%20family%201990%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="409" data-original-width="607" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh_jWLHPNgxrcumOrm-PyQo2-2igY0ugWgv0n7-L0GVM6osRVyEjPCw0r1lVP6uwayktRl9LCiKodZCWxcTc3ofxDap9CvLRk0g9jNNgj1l2NBUFKkDKsoHOKx1zzIXmtq5m3XGAqiUQzJ6pLvb3OpC52vHQZINLlPiWnQBI3kK9dkI5o1NPxks9BB/w400-h270/flagstaff%20family%201990%20-%201.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Views from Flagstaff above Charlotteville, photos by Ranji Ganase<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </span></span><p></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">In 1990, Kris and Nathalie were married
and included Trinidad and Tobago on their honeymoon tour. </span></span><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <br /></span></span></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/AVvXsEhlpRe5djvorSLHT7Q8X-APcGw2mE_FyKlgf6IBfPTYKWw9J02GZqLf-49ZiHwMr9wx5hbDQI-lhgPIvU70rYmNsB8ATF2fCkiyPhMGSx2uf6qk3Uu1PLveMIES_2DVxwF6BhRfQRlDlwNJlYBoeyzj_NtfvcutTh9aeUdbMqx3EBREdMt25CztLTMk/s2155/kris%20nathalie.heic" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1801" data-original-width="2155" height="334" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlpRe5djvorSLHT7Q8X-APcGw2mE_FyKlgf6IBfPTYKWw9J02GZqLf-49ZiHwMr9wx5hbDQI-lhgPIvU70rYmNsB8ATF2fCkiyPhMGSx2uf6qk3Uu1PLveMIES_2DVxwF6BhRfQRlDlwNJlYBoeyzj_NtfvcutTh9aeUdbMqx3EBREdMt25CztLTMk/w400-h334/kris%20nathalie.heic" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nathalie and Kris were married in 1990.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><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/AVvXsEh9OPXnwOTqao7sQ2gKY197shKf1ChEm7ABbbzILWpwQce01RuyYkpgJ03FLAj-ZHitamOFQefPFuaz1RQbIQTckrwXIFDrbg8xceUnjNX_7IlsM3mirt7-Ik7mJKSXKpSJ_0nEQZqyiEU4ZdsfjvJbJyzPyBz-_vz8dDgbjiM0pgSh3ELAnumKu_A0/s2044/ranji%20and%20tantana.heic" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2044" data-original-width="1790" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9OPXnwOTqao7sQ2gKY197shKf1ChEm7ABbbzILWpwQce01RuyYkpgJ03FLAj-ZHitamOFQefPFuaz1RQbIQTckrwXIFDrbg8xceUnjNX_7IlsM3mirt7-Ik7mJKSXKpSJ_0nEQZqyiEU4ZdsfjvJbJyzPyBz-_vz8dDgbjiM0pgSh3ELAnumKu_A0/w350-h400/ranji%20and%20tantana.heic" width="350" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The photographer dozes in front one of the Tantana cloths. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><p></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">1990 was a watershed year for all of us. We closed the farm and I returned to work in publishing at the Trinidad Guardian.<br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Did TT change? Or was the resistance to change what was so remarkable?</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">David Rudder's lament seems true today, 2023,<i> "The more we change/ Re-arrange/ Everything still seems the same. / Into the next century / 1990, please make a liar of me."</i><br /></span></span></p><p></p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-62153804612241019822023-01-23T17:13:00.000-04:002023-01-23T17:13:13.945-04:00Remembering Claire<p class="MsoNormal">Human connections are webs that cross and criss cross space
and time.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And at the end, there’s no need to unpick any part, just to
be grateful for the lacy tapestry that was created.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">For the duration of the musical send off for Claire (Gay) Jesse (January 23, 2023),
I meditated on how lives become entwined over distance and across decades. An
all too brief hour in the crematorium chapel was what was allowed. And Danielle
was determined to make the most of it for her beloved mother. 10 am sharp the
invitation said. Somewhere else, I was told, we were instructed to wear lively
clothes.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Holistic X, anchoring the proceedings, performed some of
Claire’s favourites: Chuck Mangione’s Feels so Good, Sergio Mendes’ Mas Que
Nada. The powerful voices of Deanna Dieffenthaler singing acapella with her son
Kes; and Wendell Constantine; and the sobering Take Me Over (to the other side)
by 3 Canal, turned the occasion into a mini concert.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">From her nephew Derek Gay, we learned that Claire was born “behind
the bridge” in Port of Spain at Jackson Place; had gone to Bishop Anstey High
School and travelled to England. She was an artist, and a musician in love with
the music of the world. She returned and boarded in the Gay home where she met
Bunny Dieffenthaler. They married and Renee and Danielle were born. Then,
according to Derek, Claire “liberated” Bunny who found Deanna, and subsequently,
Kes, Jon, Hans and Heidi. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Claire followed her heart to Kenya, taking Renee
and Danielle. Claire turned her artistry to the garden, the kitchen and
entertaining for her diplomat husband. It was in Nairobi on our honeymoon (1982)
that I crossed paths with Claire: Ranji’s parents invited the family to the
reception held in our honour. Ranji was hoping we would visit her home to see
the dugout canoe filled with plants but our giddy travels to the Masai Mara and
Lamu on the coast swallowed our time. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When she returned to Trinidad, Adrienne and Khanta brought
us together. It was easy to enjoy Claire: she was gentle and genteel, a deep
thinker with a ready smile. I remember going to tea at her apartment-on-sea
flooded with orchids and collections of rocks. Anjani, not yet four took a look
at the dainty bites on the tea plate and declared, I like curry chicken! Of
course that became a standing joke between us.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Over the years, Claire and I exchanged birthday calls. We
visited on occasion. Life got in the way. I was happy to hear Danielle’s tribute
to her mother, she always had something encouraging to say. She never said “no”
to unconventional ideas or outlandish schemes, supported fully and was there to
appreciate the effort, to soothe or celebrate the outcome. Hers was an adventurous spirit. It lives
and we cherish it in Renee, Danielle, Xica and Max, and in all who knew her.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><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/AVvXsEit_aZbEG0fAut_v9XQwZvlxuT46u9VGVETLx_WTQzCJvaq5mzKzw6mCwEd_EgvO2gU6s-dU_ErOXOyjCt7TBSatGfvpAa3fluIhzyiOZN5D9QFJKqyIkd7G8TJ5HBgSG9VRV_YI--DX_zT1MN9jKEc0KdZgebEZZcGpbwOmmqMKGZFiS00iDK9rgG8/s640/claire%20at%20la%20pastora%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="494" data-original-width="640" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit_aZbEG0fAut_v9XQwZvlxuT46u9VGVETLx_WTQzCJvaq5mzKzw6mCwEd_EgvO2gU6s-dU_ErOXOyjCt7TBSatGfvpAa3fluIhzyiOZN5D9QFJKqyIkd7G8TJ5HBgSG9VRV_YI--DX_zT1MN9jKEc0KdZgebEZZcGpbwOmmqMKGZFiS00iDK9rgG8/w640-h494/claire%20at%20la%20pastora%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Claire with Renee and Danielle in our home on the farm in Santa Cruz<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </p>
<p><style>@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-33151934628733902472023-01-15T12:47:00.000-04:002023-01-15T12:47:23.959-04:00Some things I learned from Covid-19<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">
</p><p class="MsoNormal"> <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/AVvXsEiTEQ3TYAZL3RYr7a6tnrcwtwb9Ju8Hci1LTh2ta0uElFb5lBcyWyts7aec_zTepBzXvmTR9VlDGRjcNnp-506hMdZNallxLSx1ObvPpG5i-l1VkHC4cm8_4GEcqewN3uLMqR6eOiJm1g-iYIT-nRVPFbJF3A7qgZzikogN8xieu384DyO75v1aMPAg/s640/rain%20walking%20charlotteville%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTEQ3TYAZL3RYr7a6tnrcwtwb9Ju8Hci1LTh2ta0uElFb5lBcyWyts7aec_zTepBzXvmTR9VlDGRjcNnp-506hMdZNallxLSx1ObvPpG5i-l1VkHC4cm8_4GEcqewN3uLMqR6eOiJm1g-iYIT-nRVPFbJF3A7qgZzikogN8xieu384DyO75v1aMPAg/w640-h480/rain%20walking%20charlotteville%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Among the things I learned about myself in Covid-19 is
how much I love the sea. How worthwhile it is to finish a task, a day's work, a project, just for the pleasure of watching the sea.<br /><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p></td></tr></tbody></table>Nature is a great teacher, whether you are willing to learn
or be carried along.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She is also patient about pushing the lesson until everyone
gets it.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I think it’s the reason we have evolved through eons; there
have been few overnight revelations. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some
of us learn faster, some slower, some have to “feel” before they get the lesson.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Well, we don’t pay attention to creeping climate change, though we ought to; most of us believe that the individual can’t do much. But a global
pandemic, it’s time to sit up and take notice.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">SHELTER IN PLACE</p><p class="MsoNormal">This was the first lesson, a discipline learned from my time in the energy sector.<br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">(Ref https://wildgirlwildworld.blogspot.com/2020/03/shelter-in-place.html)
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">None of us expected the lockdown to last so long. Some
stayed where they were on vacation. Many of us chaffed to stay in our own homes.
But life became very simple. Go out only when you need to. For those to whom “getting
back home” became a challenge and costly (hotels, loss of work), it was a lesson
that hopefully teaches some compassion (for refugees, for stateless, for the homeless)
and an adventure.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Groceries and other business put in place on-line systems;
you could phone or message in your order, pick up curbside and pay at handheld
devices. I learned that I need less than I want and could survive with less waste.
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It became easy to limit social interactions. Telephone and
internet communications ramped up. Even if these felt limiting, they also cut
out the necessity to commute in order to confer. And meetings could take place
at any time; in the day or late evening as convenient… all you need is a good
internet connection.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /></span><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/AVvXsEi_WDTThPicT3L3utCEkeXicmnrriXHhXJRd5ef8wpA0opP4ygjqNDG5ytfP9SDq9Ag3tg0ZoBLf7MbRWrU4108H5b_f6FsjdeyQRoSSQKLaBZmMrbRli_Rkkqle-yODarTvDDRaqpv9iOY2ZDA2FmRAm3cE2kzlQDMG7nlF82t4o8eInsbW7L6CEOA/s640/manzanilla%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_WDTThPicT3L3utCEkeXicmnrriXHhXJRd5ef8wpA0opP4ygjqNDG5ytfP9SDq9Ag3tg0ZoBLf7MbRWrU4108H5b_f6FsjdeyQRoSSQKLaBZmMrbRli_Rkkqle-yODarTvDDRaqpv9iOY2ZDA2FmRAm3cE2kzlQDMG7nlF82t4o8eInsbW7L6CEOA/w640-h480/manzanilla%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of Manzanilla from Point Radix: opportunity to explore more Trinidad beaches<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">TRUST<br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Working from home for those fortunate to have jobs that
could be performed from a computer or phone was a blessing. A few companies
equipped their employees at home to deal with customers’ needs. For services attending
to customers face to face, staggered shifts and appointment systems allowed the
work force to alternate being at home or the office. We could do with more planned
excursions to officialdom or access via online portals (birth certificates, driving
permits, passports.) </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Think about freeing up all that real estate from government
offices. Those could be turned to other uses.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A word about needing to have people return to offices
because a few were delinquent: that word is trust. We trust that people will
perform without supervision. Procedures need to be put in place for those who
do not perform (and this is a challenge even without a pandemic!)</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Staggered office hours – and the closing of schools – kept the
roads relatively free of heavy traffic. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Most parents with primary school-age children breathed a
sigh of relief when physical schools were opened again. But if we are honest,
we would realise that on-line schooling required a parent/ adult present – is what
your child learning a bad thing to know? – and the opportunities we had to
interact with our children provided learning experiences that we could not have
planned; cooking with Mammy; fishing with Daddy. Even the tot who had to sit at a
parent’s side while she was vending learned something. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">How tragic if we spent that time only waiting for them to “get
out of the house and back to school.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Our children are as diverse as the society – not just multicultural
but the kinds of households, parenting, income levels – and our education system
should not aim to cookie-cutter them into what the society deems respectable or
acceptable. There may be more opportunities today than 30 years ago that should
be reflected in the classroom.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> <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/AVvXsEhrAy6wp0JUDucYW4sgisxUlET8v9n0qUnS4avpPSIEtRguIZDBmqAUrXkXnDI390CY-i9QH3s8uLIX9wcaKK7mu8JIcNG9MhiuHYdETTIERmXiIe5Lp58lnTiBKZ3lMWph-EbKXZGvbc-Fi_8KwzZqeEOGCSlQGp0spoW5Rvl7HMp6Ehdbc-V-yFOn/s640/charlotteville%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAy6wp0JUDucYW4sgisxUlET8v9n0qUnS4avpPSIEtRguIZDBmqAUrXkXnDI390CY-i9QH3s8uLIX9wcaKK7mu8JIcNG9MhiuHYdETTIERmXiIe5Lp58lnTiBKZ3lMWph-EbKXZGvbc-Fi_8KwzZqeEOGCSlQGp0spoW5Rvl7HMp6Ehdbc-V-yFOn/w640-h480/charlotteville%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In Tobago coastal communities, some youngsters follow their fathers into fishing,<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">WORK FROM HOME <br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Working from home is a good thing if it allows parents to
keep an eye on things at home, to spend more time with children, gardens, nutrition;
to stay off the roads. Have we used the opportunity – in private sector
companies and public service – to configure our work places so that employees
spend fewer hours in office, less time in traffic, more time at home?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">With a small team or a large company, designing a flexible
system requires some management work, figuring out what’s best for the individuals
(that presumably you have employed because of their value to your company and
product) and how to optimize their output for your company. Could there not be
a premium to be mined for employees that are able to perform as productively
from home, not to mention a savings of time taken off the roads.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">For some, working from home is not possible. But by keeping even
40% of the population off the roads – ok, 30% - the entire structure of traffic
could be changed. More persons become more flexible with their time; variations
of half hour or an hour earlier or later become easier to manage.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Early on, we were told that the key to not getting Covid-19
was to get vaccinated. Then we learned that vaccinated or not, we could still
get sick. It was up to each of us to stay healthy, to avoid infection (masking,
washing hands, distancing) and if we did get ill to make sure we would recover
quickly. The big lesson there is that our health is in our own hands, our own
choices. I could still cook and be in the same house with my daughter who
contracted covid, masked and distanced. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">LEARN FROM NATURE <br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Personally, I can reflect on how alone time was beneficial: making
me deliberate about socializing, with whom, when, how frequent, and resting. Because
I live in de bush, alone time allowed me to observe nature, feed birds, appreciate
wildlife (iguanas, agoutis, woodpeckers, cobos) and seasonal changes in trees.
I could plant a garden or just let things grow where they would. I got two
pumpkins from a vine that sprang up from seeds in the compost heap.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Human life has evolved with and through systems of choices:
and this diversity of choice keeps us moving, evolving and, as a species,
thriving. Three years later, in the grand scheme of things, what have we lost?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> <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/AVvXsEjxHzVc88Fqn1r-DK0Kpmp5k3hhWuuzUXinRiIlrRcGRCAAxnQHRGUSMJmQ0D2Zh_tNZDDwHLXu8-06Qqa4uYCYuC9zkRNcoWCDQW0H6nwsqXpTHBy40dCIS0EVsnClKKJWJs9Z0fDo5WgbYJzQB7snRKOtTR_6JRWhqAAaQxsPDXkksxVVNHBppoG5/s3264/blanchisseuse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxHzVc88Fqn1r-DK0Kpmp5k3hhWuuzUXinRiIlrRcGRCAAxnQHRGUSMJmQ0D2Zh_tNZDDwHLXu8-06Qqa4uYCYuC9zkRNcoWCDQW0H6nwsqXpTHBy40dCIS0EVsnClKKJWJs9Z0fDo5WgbYJzQB7snRKOtTR_6JRWhqAAaQxsPDXkksxVVNHBppoG5/w480-h640/blanchisseuse.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blanchisseuse coastline<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p><style>@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-7791778069399222552023-01-05T09:00:00.002-04:002023-01-05T11:44:19.586-04:00The Man and the Dragon/ LION<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;">It's a LION!</span></span></span> shouts Mummy. <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The boy
puts the pencil point on the paper. He follows the line – it could be sand or
canvas but it’s paper – and he is following the thought in<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>his head to the page.</span>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> <br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguEMMi6cRo-ijxOkOgWJgvhlckcH37dbr72RCigUkOcRSM-3PheCbI04ncTnodP_YuNh7rfiRjYkrEGskmHuHvvIqoauSJLnbrJ5nb0rwGPJaOmFWDSm2k6hUJl_1UuloQCKx_p6_NuglBDVNJReuMJD23la_ANBHeOACaAzPjBXuDcqDEgcW6Qz7X/s640/the%20man%20and%20the%20dragon%20-%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguEMMi6cRo-ijxOkOgWJgvhlckcH37dbr72RCigUkOcRSM-3PheCbI04ncTnodP_YuNh7rfiRjYkrEGskmHuHvvIqoauSJLnbrJ5nb0rwGPJaOmFWDSm2k6hUJl_1UuloQCKx_p6_NuglBDVNJReuMJD23la_ANBHeOACaAzPjBXuDcqDEgcW6Qz7X/w300-h400/the%20man%20and%20the%20dragon%20-%202.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">This is a
man, he says. The man has big toes and hands and a strange smile on his face.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The boy
picks up the point and puts it down on another page. This is the dragon that
the man sees in the woods, he says. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"></span></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/AVvXsEjPRHrkkXR1w9u2JnFzJgzOQmFVolLGVV4TbmyhFEAVuCYiuaRUJ7TC-q0GpcYQ8X0pOh4cNX10CTIkm3nyDCu_vm9RE-KUq_VYaMd__wYyADljodgAjEV4_QI_3KSfgENBEVycrLhLzBFVpqxuMQXY7bIaNMYxnsF2GaQfGGNmLQd93ertn6F5yImR/s640/the%20man%20and%20the%20dragon%20-%206.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="640" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRHrkkXR1w9u2JnFzJgzOQmFVolLGVV4TbmyhFEAVuCYiuaRUJ7TC-q0GpcYQ8X0pOh4cNX10CTIkm3nyDCu_vm9RE-KUq_VYaMd__wYyADljodgAjEV4_QI_3KSfgENBEVycrLhLzBFVpqxuMQXY7bIaNMYxnsF2GaQfGGNmLQd93ertn6F5yImR/w400-h295/the%20man%20and%20the%20dragon%20-%206.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;">IT'S A LION!</span></span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Do they
fight? </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The man
takes the <strike>dragon</strike> <span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">LION</span> </span>to meet his family and friends. Some are amazed that a man and
a <strike>dragon</strike> <span style="color: red;"><strike>LION</strike></span> could be friends. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwPuGNv-Qswk8iQTop2LEy64JrFgFZZPaZU4zySKkM-qxI6OyGOD7SwmC1iEYSX8D__tXrcrPC31PUZU011qRmSRAdYwZWD65Y0jdJDsjTmqsMCtO-RYMI1MkJ0O3nvQ9LT07eCm8P5jcTXv_Uz3SltDAMVhLPtTGGdN1xO-2jgVHsboR3rEJADzr-/s640/the%20man%20and%20the%20dragon%20-%203.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="640" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwPuGNv-Qswk8iQTop2LEy64JrFgFZZPaZU4zySKkM-qxI6OyGOD7SwmC1iEYSX8D__tXrcrPC31PUZU011qRmSRAdYwZWD65Y0jdJDsjTmqsMCtO-RYMI1MkJ0O3nvQ9LT07eCm8P5jcTXv_Uz3SltDAMVhLPtTGGdN1xO-2jgVHsboR3rEJADzr-/w400-h385/the%20man%20and%20the%20dragon%20-%203.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Do they
stay together and have other adventures? Do they eat the same things? The
<strike>dragon</strike> <span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">lion</span></span> likes pizza. The man likes chicken. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></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/AVvXsEhAUYyAIu5nfp_1QPBIhUOMYOA5TmgkfbucKuGm8DIuV8pK0bf2Aq6sbykILA6fhzuA6z49Y0xweCsM2hR5yc8FA3Yv4FwlEBIvgYtLW4XU_beqJQ2DwseGXQ0xizR1XAGHDXGvrDtXHW1zF00KrLaR2ZMZeGVcPAzOaMZZ2LvCnBJ13PsQbAuyXEj3/s640/the%20man%20and%20the%20dragon%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="542" data-original-width="640" height="339" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAUYyAIu5nfp_1QPBIhUOMYOA5TmgkfbucKuGm8DIuV8pK0bf2Aq6sbykILA6fhzuA6z49Y0xweCsM2hR5yc8FA3Yv4FwlEBIvgYtLW4XU_beqJQ2DwseGXQ0xizR1XAGHDXGvrDtXHW1zF00KrLaR2ZMZeGVcPAzOaMZZ2LvCnBJ13PsQbAuyXEj3/w400-h339/the%20man%20and%20the%20dragon%20-%201.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;">EVERYONE RUNS AWAY!</span></span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The boy
thinks that this is a story to be continued. He puts the pencil point on the
page and writes THE END.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimPAZxNklxqlrjn9zEHxL-a7w0_uGj7WUuQZVf8EChJh7Mtx7IXqvnsQr6TJ4dSbJzpSwbR0JO6HICFbI-TNDrUDsKMi1nuNd_tuA639lYo9cnSEQnLYlRQHWISb8fmtLSLwLWSqEKk1dJK0I4B7yN8UUHIUBimRZULmDzKdUzdwMNVRzbnRYy6gt4/s640/the%20man%20and%20the%20dragon%20-%205.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="255" data-original-width="640" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimPAZxNklxqlrjn9zEHxL-a7w0_uGj7WUuQZVf8EChJh7Mtx7IXqvnsQr6TJ4dSbJzpSwbR0JO6HICFbI-TNDrUDsKMi1nuNd_tuA639lYo9cnSEQnLYlRQHWISb8fmtLSLwLWSqEKk1dJK0I4B7yN8UUHIUBimRZULmDzKdUzdwMNVRzbnRYy6gt4/w400-h160/the%20man%20and%20the%20dragon%20-%205.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGxbzBTS94BVqQ0G7JplcLHveVQUwTH0ckKEDV0Z9qCU5-njcwQAHEV1skxvH-Y6yJqjpwgZQ4cTRkMYbDq6DzCgosNEbsdluniv8JykeFwzdLCX8noFYxiBEIgb2_EbD0C8AbQP55rM8nrT7wYieVGdTJw7f_YL5E6yRb7U_-jXYDrO7k6YDpaEU/s640/max%20gatekeeper%20-%201.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="396" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGxbzBTS94BVqQ0G7JplcLHveVQUwTH0ckKEDV0Z9qCU5-njcwQAHEV1skxvH-Y6yJqjpwgZQ4cTRkMYbDq6DzCgosNEbsdluniv8JykeFwzdLCX8noFYxiBEIgb2_EbD0C8AbQP55rM8nrT7wYieVGdTJw7f_YL5E6yRb7U_-jXYDrO7k6YDpaEU/w248-h400/max%20gatekeeper%20-%201.jpeg" width="248" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185380487791238749.post-53978747491656952912023-01-01T13:27:00.002-04:002023-01-01T16:11:26.607-04:00Welcome all Gifts<p>From time to time, we've given each other weird gifts, this family. The useful is always there, close to hand, but the weird are always surprising, astonishing even, and memorable not because of the gift but the giver.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaz-xEYklxFFxrrrZa5fRPZ9wxv-Udnu9zfR9EU2GXAQukLW0ThaeUfBk29KyRCVmcpNPUsn9502UwTK5hOhdyX9-IGrBHyU2SZmnU8joQ5YX1e3b94EHAWtbwDA7zjj-6ubCAEnVbfSO-0Fs7pme9HoatXxMp2GPKwkgiIeKBr3Sdo4Q0VbU1EH4F/s640/bird%20skull%20with%20jewellery.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="401" data-original-width="640" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaz-xEYklxFFxrrrZa5fRPZ9wxv-Udnu9zfR9EU2GXAQukLW0ThaeUfBk29KyRCVmcpNPUsn9502UwTK5hOhdyX9-IGrBHyU2SZmnU8joQ5YX1e3b94EHAWtbwDA7zjj-6ubCAEnVbfSO-0Fs7pme9HoatXxMp2GPKwkgiIeKBr3Sdo4Q0VbU1EH4F/w400-h251/bird%20skull%20with%20jewellery.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0HOZlEvqfMcxYUZvPZytq2dXHdUhrgBgpu9z_EOh473F7eeZ4fJ8yhH8lng_o4Ag9Ye-dl6V0zwnbDgHmfakT5ZMHjAUzLd-a69VT6_FUaSDuF4LVIfA3kpHsXrZoBl9qiRN8wGe2kdLeTojlKIIF_SUHefzRIfWrW8HTMgqZNn2z4RsqNhbPHXUU/s640/bird%20skull.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="406" data-original-width="640" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0HOZlEvqfMcxYUZvPZytq2dXHdUhrgBgpu9z_EOh473F7eeZ4fJ8yhH8lng_o4Ag9Ye-dl6V0zwnbDgHmfakT5ZMHjAUzLd-a69VT6_FUaSDuF4LVIfA3kpHsXrZoBl9qiRN8wGe2kdLeTojlKIIF_SUHefzRIfWrW8HTMgqZNn2z4RsqNhbPHXUU/w400-h254/bird%20skull.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p>My son must have been 12 when he gifted this Mom locket, never worn but cherished all the same. The <br />Rabbit was glimpsed in a plant shop and has been with me for many rabbit years. This year's bird skull jewellery keeper will hardly conceal my precious shiny things but I will remember the afternoon spent wandering London and poking into strange shops.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpMgBd27YKabfvwl-CyUSxqzSL1c6ZWpL4XYlUw_rk_nwBhM9HcNFAbbOyT9uIoLaZmWqbppHjoG4iFg-6831i9QfzApuL5u_LYB4iMdQqcZfnvhMdgNlgOjZ_alkJGAw3Llj5nCbV7Bmjjbez_FM__1WdMfBjVgrt35SsL5oy_gwLsF0uxHsE5WzC/s640/mom%20locket.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpMgBd27YKabfvwl-CyUSxqzSL1c6ZWpL4XYlUw_rk_nwBhM9HcNFAbbOyT9uIoLaZmWqbppHjoG4iFg-6831i9QfzApuL5u_LYB4iMdQqcZfnvhMdgNlgOjZ_alkJGAw3Llj5nCbV7Bmjjbez_FM__1WdMfBjVgrt35SsL5oy_gwLsF0uxHsE5WzC/w300-h400/mom%20locket.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>I am trying to remember gifts from Ranji: skirts and scarves, many bracelets. But through the years, he would always bring me silly things, stones gathered on our beach walks, flowers picked from someone's hedge. We knew it was not about the gifts but the gestures, larger than life, expressed wholeheartedly and often. </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/AVvXsEjRU_qAuTTYKu9gCSoV5p08g16VYyJUpASiX0g6Sih6sPVwXgFEnNUuzDpqQ8RsVo3_HI2JiDewny3SFtjFp_0KX_9LsXtFNELoJjOlYIU2ek0vW_pSXtMT26ActOgUPo-UcGTXgZ2u07eavRgba5RsKPFdnRBg6PzZBFzfNqUUncljbG1bVa2X_y5P/s640/teapot.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRU_qAuTTYKu9gCSoV5p08g16VYyJUpASiX0g6Sih6sPVwXgFEnNUuzDpqQ8RsVo3_HI2JiDewny3SFtjFp_0KX_9LsXtFNELoJjOlYIU2ek0vW_pSXtMT26ActOgUPo-UcGTXgZ2u07eavRgba5RsKPFdnRBg6PzZBFzfNqUUncljbG1bVa2X_y5P/w400-h300/teapot.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Treasured teapot, daughter's gift<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>As we begin 2023, let's cherish all that we have been gifted so far; and welcome whatever may be coming.</p><p>For me, I am easing into the new year - as I always do - holding out for the start of the Year of the Rabbit (January 22, 2023) which happens to be lucky for Rabbits, Snakes, Rats and Tigers!</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/AVvXsEicRy9rqjT6S-u7LNVkHM5iWkiBcXrFLsV7ydgifHXb51VJHRwXaOFy5oPpYg7EP-1Fc1Oe2W1Xp7a6D2B2bDL6fh57sQ7WSAyA3BFmz6y7GRJ3pPX7MHvAWdNRBSWl4z_WH8Xd8nwEULpOMOLXXUWjVqoWRzW7Iuk8OfgrFVrH9kIWfRYyYtXI0RWr/s640/rabbit.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicRy9rqjT6S-u7LNVkHM5iWkiBcXrFLsV7ydgifHXb51VJHRwXaOFy5oPpYg7EP-1Fc1Oe2W1Xp7a6D2B2bDL6fh57sQ7WSAyA3BFmz6y7GRJ3pPX7MHvAWdNRBSWl4z_WH8Xd8nwEULpOMOLXXUWjVqoWRzW7Iuk8OfgrFVrH9kIWfRYyYtXI0RWr/w480-h640/rabbit.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2023 is the year of the fat Rabbit; may you find love and contentment<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0