I lean my head back to view my burlap ceiling. Stapled and framed in blonde wood. Another artistic flair. Something different.
Just ask me about different. It has been the theme of my life.
I sent my, Who Am I post, to Sassy Silver Surfers. An over fifty ladies group, of women who surf.
Continue reading Where am I?
I am Cheri Eagerton Royal/JBug……..
Yes, this is a screen shot of my instagram page – @everydaypaparazza. I googled myself. This is who I am. Or I should say part of who I am. A good part. Almost a 1000 photos of beautiful people. I interacted with many that I did not know. It was so much fun. My camera has always helped me to communicate with others.
Continue reading Who am I?
What is this world coming to?
I was shocked to see this sign at the entrance of the Auto Mercado in Tamarindo, Costa Rica! I had clothes on, so I was good. Having just left the beach, playing with my dog. I enjoyed seeing the students and horses. Tourists – having fun. On another day I might have been surfing and at the start of my first grocery pit stop. I have 5 between Tamarindo and Playa Potrero. It’s necessary to try and beat the cost of today’s groceries
I am currently living in flux – I’ve dug a glorious hole here. It started one way and has ended up another.
Continue reading The Life of a Dedicated Beach Bum
Hang in there!
Last Friday, I posted to Sassy Silver Surfers. SSS is my favorite women’s surfing FB page. The post was a quip. A memory of my first stay in Costa Rica. My husband took me to Mal Pais, for my fortieth. That trip changed our lives in a drastic way. Surfing became a dominant passion.
Continue reading Costa Rica Surf Adventures: Passion and Transformation
You can always take constructive steps to improve your position. – Sometimes God does for us what we can not do for ourselves.
Hello and welcome to my world. – I believe that if life gives you lemons. Make lemonade. That is partly what this long running and sometimes read blog is all about. Writing is my lemonade.
If I am going to put focus on things that will make me feel truly fulfilled as a person because earthly things won’t – that entails – number one – my relationship with God. I meditate. I put my antenna out there seeking the vibrations of spirituality. Goodness. A detachment from the earthly.
I am reposting this blog for a reason.
I skim through blogs and read. Idiotorial caught my attention. I followed and I am glad I did. It too is a personal blog.
At first, I gasped at her thoughts. But I knew they were important to her.
She is halfway around the world from me. Living, breathing writing.
There is much to be learned from others.
Meet Rafa. He has lived with all of his life until last night.
We are in Costa Rica wondering exactly what happened. But really we know. It’s gonna take a while to process.
Rafa’s Dad came to live with us over twenty years ago. He was living in a man camp. And kept getting fired from all of his jobs. I met him when a man building my fence asked to hire him. When I saw how Nestor held a hammer I knew why he got fired all of the time. I took the hammer from his hand. ‘It’s OK.”
He came to live with us. He got married. He had two children. We lived here like a family. Many things have occurred. We have been through a lot together.
Rafa graduated high school and wanted to go to college. I believe Rafa is an exceptional person with a high I Q.
His parents refuse to let him attend the University. We offered to pay for his tuition. He is now working as a laborer. He is now a laborer who belongs in academia. He wants to be in academia. I didn’t make this up for him.
His parents have moved to a Nicaraguan “hood”.
There is much racism here in Costa Rica. The general consensus is Nicas are not smart. Drunks. The women are loose. And they will never get anywhere. I have experienced a lot of racism dumped on this kid. And now I have seen it dumped on him by his own parents.
Unbelievable. They sincerely believe he needs to stay out of school. No education for Rafa.
Continue reading Crabs in a Big Brown Bucket
Once upon a time. I took a friend to the swamp bank. It was green with algae. Ugly. Not like it use to be.
I invited a cousin. Beloved.
We shared what we could. We answered questions. We wanted him (my new friend) to get familiar with the past. The old days of Whitehouse/Westide. It’s fringe. It’s fun and it’s dark. It’s Southern Gothic.
A lot was told. The Goat ( I call him that because of the stable life he has created for himself, his wife and his four daughters. He has grandchildren. He is a well known figure in the Westside community. Respected. ) made a statement about John Hysler giving the word to kill black men that were kidnapped and forced to work whiskey stills.
The writer ran with it. He mistakenly touted stills on Old Gainseville Rd. He made up a neighborhood where the men were kidnapped from. It seems to me like these are important facts. In a story where much is left to the imagination, I cling to the known. In my opinion he made many errors. It was disappointing to me. He had no interest in us. As a matter of fact he was demeaning. As he is with most all Whitehouse/Westside people. And yet, I still call him friend.
Continue reading Black Bottom 3
All things concerning Black Bottom. This is actually the third introduction to this topic. The first is set private. I have to make adjustments. This is an important subject to me. This has been an overwhelming, emotional subject to pursue. It’s kind of underground. (no pun but so ironic) I am committed to writing. We will see. I have witnessed numerous other writers on blogs do good work. That’s all I hope for.
Making this choice is not difficult for me. Being born an artist I wouldn’t have it any other way. I am missing the boat that they’re on and they are missing the one that I am on.
Fish Eye Farm 