This too shall pass

Hello again from the Big…Grey?

We are in the middle of a nasty bit of weather. The latest satellite photo shows one of those swirly things that no one likes to discuss on small, low-lying, tropical islands. Last night we did the usual "C" word preparation – shoes and clothes ready to go, head lamps, flashlights, bottles of water. This morning things had settled down, only to pick back up again. Nothing like some big, bad wind and rain to keep a girl on her toes.

But enough about weather. For anyone still wondering, we did not make it to the top fifty in the Best Job competition. Apparently, we were number fifty-one but you know what they say about horseshoes and hand grenades. With 34,000 entries, I can’t say I’m overly shocked at our exclusion. Besides, who wants to go live in some stupid million dollar villa and be showered with free spa treatments anyway? Puh-lease.

Thanks, however, are most definitely in order. I’m still in awe at the number of people who rallied around us on such short notice. In just a few short days we had almost 600 votes, I think that’s pretty amazing considering how cut off we are from access to any kind of means of mainstream publicity. More than one Nutter emailed to tell us that they had not only voted but had sent along our links to everyone in their email address. As someone who is leery about forwarding anything, to anyone, especially in a mass mailing format, I appreciate this kind effort immensely. Wow. We were overwhelmed to say the least. To whomever wins the contest, good for you, have fun and best wishes! As for us, well, with friends like we have, winning something like that probably would have put us into karmic overload. Best not to unbalance the universe by having all the good stuff happen to us.

If I was late getting this news to you, blame my dad. He went in for knee replacement on the 6th and was supposed to be home by now. You know how parents are, though, never do what their told, always have to make you worry.

Big Sis emailed last week to tell me that Dad was having complications and not doing well. She was short on details but big on concern – not the best combination, let me tell you. Nothing like being six thousand miles away from you’re father who’d "not doing very well", with little to no idea of what’s happening. Mind you, Big Sis was not six thousand miles away and she still had a hard time finding out what the heck was going on, so there you go.

It turns out, he has pneumonia and some blood clots in his lungs. For awhile, his condition was a real nail biter but now Big Sis says he’s doing much better. The big concern now is his escalating crankiness and his unshaven face, which is garnering him the nickname "Santa Claus". Emily is probably suffering worst of all without her slave…er…I mean, her Grandpa to look after her. She hisses and swipes at her surrogate caretakers. The sooner these two cranky, old codgers are reunited, the better for all concerned.

Seriously, I’m so relieved to know Dad is doing better. I love you Dad!! 

We now have six and a half months left here. The days seem to be dragging by, as of late, partly because of the stifling heat and partly because…well, it’s almost all because of the stifling heat, to be honest. I dream of July, of those cool winter nights when we have to put a little blanket on the bed and mornings with socks and long pants. Mmmm, winter.

So here we are, waiting for summer to end, waiting for Dad’s pneumonia and clots to clear, waiting for our next adventure. This is all on the shoulders of time. Time will pass and we will ride in its current. And what a ride it is.

QUESTION: Are you waiting for something?

Until next week, I hope this finds you healthy, happy & lovin’ life!
The Princess

This entry was posted in Life. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.