Day 153

This is day 153 of the year 2022. There are 215 days left. And I am here in the moment. En Route 66…………….

“Think of the life you have lived until now as over and, as a dead man, see what’s left as a bonus and live it according to Nature. Love the hand that fate deals you and play it as your own, for what could be more fitting?” – Marcus Aurelius

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, following 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 I am an old lady, in theirs. 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.

En Route 66 ***

Rooster, if we go down this path, what do you think will happen?

JBug depended on her husband. She looked at his grey hair and eyes that matched.

I don’t know. But if we don’t go, we’ll never know.

With locked wills and hubs, their minds were made. This wasn’t their first adventure.

Bocas Del Toro

Surfing excursions use to be different. For me anyway. There was a time when I could put my board on my car drive west on I-10, turn left on I-5 in California and start surfing the coast. It was cheap as hell. It was a bit complicated at times, but it was “true” adventure.

Others were terrified to travel. They could surf great but they were skeered of “what was out there.” Something might “get em”.

I drove through the Chiapas during civil unrest. I followed the Federales to a bank robbery for a quick pass back to the border. I had to turn in a document, ensuring my re-entry into Mexico.

Continue reading Bocas Del Toro