66 Routes

Do you see anything wrong with this bridge?

This (my writing and viewpoint) reminds me of my life. My history as an artist. My years of living. “Girl, you don’t know where your bread is buttered.”

“Yes I do, I smear wonderful tasting butter on Ezekiel bread. I do what is good for my health. Mental, spiritual and physical. It has made me vastly unpopular. Well, as unpopular as I can get, being a nobody amongst nobodies.

When one sets out to do something, write a story, buy a house, catch a wave, track fish, deal with social climbing South Afrikaners, wrestle with new age realty contracts, log a WOD, pull a weed, read a book, share about a book, there are always decisions to be made.

Life can be complicated.

So, they built the bridge too short. Just don’t tell anybody.

Buried at Sea

This is just a journal. Nothing more or less. Just words typed on a digital page. Important only to me.

After the funeral fiascos over the past five years, and the refusal of my two oldest sisters to relinquish funeral plots, after their bold embezzlements from my mother’s inheritance, I decided to be buried at sea. The ocean has been my refuge, my entire life.

The other day I had one of the worst days. It involved lifeguards, called Nippers.

I lost it. I couldn’t believe these little boys, which they are in my eyes, the same as they see me as an old lady. And they even name themselves small boys. They removed me from the water. I was removed from the water, by little creatures that nipped and bit. I just cussed.

I wish the best for them. I hope they “save” many people. I hope they “sell” many surf instructions. That was their mantra as they were asking me to leave the water. “I am surf instructor.” Hearing that, over and over, just did something to me.

I feel buried at sea, before my death.

I apologized to them for my behavior, but the beligerent boss, (short, red head) turned his back on me.

He had a assumed I was a rich tourist. He erred in his eagerness to possibly rake in 65 an hour, which is what they charge as “instructors.”

You know what they say about assumptions.

I love the ocean. I will just go somewhere they’re not.

That was the mistake in the first place.

A synonym for nipper is nuisance.

God Bless us All

They actually named themselves after a Mongrel dog. A little nipping terrier dog. I call that fitting.

Follow Your Bliss

I have been following Auntie Bubba for years. From back in the days when there weren’t as many blogs. You wrote and posted. The title and image would come up on a page and you could browse and read. They hadn’t yet come up with the algorithms where they steer you like cattle through a gap. She was in Paris, when I first started reading. Then she went to San Francisco. Got a scooter. Went swimming down by the SF bridge. Moved out of an apartment. Got money. Went to school. She’s is or was a burning man participant. She figures out how to make things happen for her. She documents it.

I have sponsored people much younger than myself and I advise them to check out her blog. You can do. You can achieve. There are hiccups. Right now she is having surgeries and she gets in the pool. Something I advise people to do to heal. But will they do it. Hell no.

I too follow my bliss. And yes, it’s a lot of hard work. And a lot of letting go.

We only have one life – that I know of. I’ve been on one adventure after another. I am getting older and you would think it’s easier. But it’s not. It’s the same. You have a plan, obstacles, hurdles and dismounts. The idea is to enjoy the journey.

Writing helps.

I can look back and know where I’ve been. WOW….it’s a lot.

I am planning a trip to Bocas Del Torro and it feels daunting. Every thing use to be so dirt cheap. I don’t like spending money. Now there’s the COVID issue. Planes don’t have flights they use to have. You have to meet mandatory dead lines on tests.

WTF – you use to just use to have to consider marauders and murderers. Now that isn’t even an issue. I guess they are staying home to be COVID safe.

Now it’s high priced rooms and boat trips…..I can do this. – More will be revealed.

Thank you Auntie Bubba. You are an inspiration. Life is out there. Do it!

I am taking an ounce of my own advice.

Family History

Ancestors Ancestors and more Ancestors

Mary Frances Lowe Peterson was my great – grandmother. She lived on Blair Road, on the family farm. She was born and raised on the families land tract. She was there, when my mother woke up, as a five year old, smelling smoke and hearing a crackling noise.She alerted the family, saving their lives. A night they never forgot! They lost everything, but themselves. The little, curly haired cherub, became an instant hero. Mary also lived with my Grandmother, Elizabeth Peterson McInarnay, on Phyllis St. The family had built a house there, following the farm house burning to the ground.

They rebuilt the farm house.

Continue reading Family History

Cow Town

I am, in the count down, to exit. Yet, another exodus. Sure, it’s a vacation, and I am a tourist in Costa Rica, but it’s more than that. It’s a continuance of a dream. Yes, I know my abode will be there waiting, behind the fence of hibiscus, surrounded by bougainvillea, birds of paradise, a large mango, cacti, lemon trees, avocados and oranges. It always feels magical when I enter through that gate. It is my Oz.

The house is on a dirt road, adjacent to a large farm. No crops just land. It was originally a Spanish land grant, to the family that still owns a portion, of the tract.

A hotel, with all of the amenities is in front of me, and on the ocean. Their neighbor is the Costa Rica Sailing Center.

The town of Flamingo/Potrero is currently constructing a large marina. Playa Potrero, Pasture Beach, the one time home to a herd of cattle, that stormed the beach, in a slow saunter, to get their dose of salt from the ocean, is now going to usher in boats and more boats. You can’t have both. Cows and boats don’t mix.

Such is progress.

Here, I leave behind the billowing smoke of two paper mills, on the island, Amelia, which is also an international tourist destination.

Paper mills and high end condos don’t seem the perfect match either. Gone are the days of sand dunes and shrimp boats. Ah, who cares.

I have goals for myself. I always do.

I have to thank my sister Deena, her grandchildren, and my Crossfit group for the outcome of my most recent days; friends and family. And I don’t want to forget God, who never forsakes me.

This year is ending, and I have to say I had the one and only Christmas that I have ever enjoyed. I have surfed on Christmas days and they were great, but I was hardly aware it was Christmas.* I have remembered yet another great December 25th. It was the first one that Rooster and I were together, in 1983.

My goals for the future are my health and my attitude.

I look forward to it all.

Day by Day.

Como Las Vacas ~ Live Like the Cows

Dare to Challenge the Illusion

What is your reality?

Do you live in love and kindness? Are you surrounded by people that care for you and support your endeavors?

If you are unhappy in your existence, can you change it?

Can you walk into the unknown?

Or are your feet, blocks of cement, and your mind a hamster wheel?

Be different – Dream Big

I have not been writing. I have been listening to talks by Dr. Joe Dispenza. What a gift. I have turned many corners, following my daughters passing. And I am now more committed than ever to live en-joy.

I See People Beautiful

Keep on keeping on ~

These are photos from my instagram @everydaypaparazza. I accumulated 800 good photos. Photos of random people and those I know. It gave me energy and happiness. That mojo is gone. It got up and ran down the road. It died.

I am moving on.