I Want To Be a Barefoot Beach Bar Girl!

If you have been reading along with my blog from the beginning, you know that I am writing this blog as part of a personal “quest” to figure out what I want to do with the next chapter of my life. And last weekend, while at a birthday party for a bar--yes, the party was for the BAR'S birthday--I had an epiphany. I want to be a Barefoot Beach Bar Girl! Wait, let me clarify. What I mean is, I want to be LIKE the girls who OWN and WORK at this magically entertaining place where every day feels like a party! If you’ve been to Placencia, you’ve probably been to the Barefoot and may understand what I’m saying. But for those of you who haven’t, I’ll try to explain.

Watermelon Bliss!

There are lots of really great places to eat and drink in the village, but the Barefoot is my personal favorite for good-natured fun in Placencia. Originally started as a small bar and grill on the beach, it’s been through a couple of reincarnations, including a short move off the beach to Main Street, and most recently, its joyful return to the beach last summer. Created by two sisters, Cassie and Brice, the Barefoot is popular with visitors and regulars alike, and serves great food and very imaginative, tasty STIFF drinks.

But the "Foot," as it's often called, has morphed into something so much more than just another beach bar and grill.  With the help of another sister, Ellie, who does most of her work behind the scenes, the girls and their awesome staff have made the Barefoot into an establishment where you have an enjoyable visit every time you go. It’s a neighborhood-watering-hole “Cheers” kind of spot where both regulars and visitors are heartily welcomed. And soon, given courage by the deliciously deceptive stiff beverages, everyone finds themselves joining in on the fun.  

It seems the Barefoot girls and their crew are always having a party of sorts, whether planned or spontaneous. Somehow, the girls find a way to make their imaginative and creative theme parties happen almost every weekend. There are horseshoes and backgammon, a variety of live music most evenings, sports on the tv, and of course, that beautiful beach.  Unless you’re a zombie, you just can’t go and NOT have fun at the “Foot.” And just last weekend, at their Birthday Party to celebrate nine years in business (which lasted all weekend long!) the Barefoot Beach Bar girls and their team were STILL having a blast.  Nine years later, they’re still loving what they do, and celebrating it.  And I realized -- I want to do THAT.

I want to do something in the next chapter of my life that I’m still having fun with and celebrating nine years later, just like the Barefoot girls. Something that makes me happy enough to want to supply a four-foot tall piñata filled with goodies for all the guests!  And though I’m still searching to find “that thing," I hope when I do, it continues to make me feel like having a party every single day. In the meantime, you can find me at the Barefoot, having fun and looking for it in the bottom of my glass!!!

If you haven't been to the 'Foot, check them out here, and start making your plans to go!  https://www.facebook.com/BarefootBarPlacenciaBelize

That Ain't What It Takes To Love Me

In 1974, Jim Stafford released a song called “Spiders and Snakes” which quickly topped the pop charts in several countries. I was just seven years old but I loved that song! And now, the chorus of that little ditty has become my battle cry in my "adopted" village, where we are cozily nestled between the beach and the far, far edge of the jungle, and directly in the path of all kinds of critters. The song goes something like this: “I don’t like spiders and snakes, and that ain’t what it takes to love me, like I wanna be loved by you.” 

Okay, yes, it’s true, I’m a city girl. And yet, I willingly chose to move to a tropical country harboring a slightly irrational fear of creepy-crawlers. I’m scared of them all--spiders, snakes, bees, cockroaches, lizards, beach crabs, scorpions, moths, toads and caterpillars. Yes, toads and caterpillars. Laugh if you want, but there are some scary-ass poisonous toads and caterpillars! Look it up! No matter how many legs, two, four, or six or eight--with wings or without—if they crawl or fly, or bite and sting, or slither on the ground, I’m scared of them. Especially the skittery, scampery prehistoric-looking ones. And prior to our move to Placencia, I used to gleefully maim and murder any kind of “pest” that dared to show its exoskeleton in my presence. My mantra was “kill ALL creepy-crawlers!” 

But unbelievably, at least for this city girl, I am learning how to coexist in their world, here between the sea and the "back-a-bush." I’ve learned to welcome the darling little geckos inside the house, because honestly, they’re cute! They bark like tiny little dogs! And they eat bugs, roaches, and spiders. Who wouldn’t want a friend like that in the house? Our first resident gecko we named Philbert, and he was adorable. Until Kitti ate him. And then puked him up on the bed in the middle of the night. Sadly, we’ve had to stop naming our geckos. It was just too sad.

Truthfully, I don’t really mind the iguanas, lizards, wish willys, and land crabs, although they do still startle me sometimes. But the biggest surprise is that I’ve even learned to simply take a wide berth around the tarantulas, and not run screaming bloody murder for the hills. And even though I am still quite terrified of them,  I let the hairy monsters hang around (outside of course), because I’ve been told tarantulas eat scorpions. And I despise scorpions most of all.  When it comes to scorpions, sorry, but my old rule kicks back in and all bets are off.  ALL scorpions must die.  

I moved to Placencia knowing that it is the creepy-crawler’s domain. This land belonged to them first, and I am just a guest. I knew I had to learn to coexist, just as people here have done for generations. I’m trying hard to adapt, and believe it or not, I've learned a lot about bugs and other critters since our move.  We even try to "relocate" the ones we are able to with the help of our friend, Elvin, who's not afraid at all. And as long as they stay outside, I will let them live in peace--unless it’s a scorpion. But I make no apologies, any creepy crawler that steps across my threshold and into my home should be forewarned--it is likely taking its last step on this earth. Especially the scorpions!

(Don’t know the song “Spiders and Snakes?”  You can see it here:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TRJUAaQ2WU 

UFO's in Placencia, Belize?

So, a funny thing happened to me the other night….. WAIT! Please don’t stop reading! I know all lame, boring comedy routines start with that phrase. But this is no comedy routine, and it really happened to me.

I should start by clearly stating that I don’t believe in creatures from another planet, aliens from outer space, or any of that “sci-fi” crap you see in movies. But just the other night, I saw a UFO! It was hovering over our neighbor’s house in all its enormous and terrifying grandeur, basking in the sinister blackness of night, its horrifying red and green lights blinking like glittering eyes of evilness.

Let me start at the beginning. In case you weren’t aware, I love my little dogs and would do anything for my tiny doxies, Kitti and Bunni.  And every evening they have to go outside, in the dark, to go potty before we go to bed. And they won’t go downstairs by themselves, at least not in the dark. So I decided to take them down for one last potty break, in the dark, while the hubby snoozed on the couch.  

Did I point out it was dark?  And, have I forgotten to mention that I am scared—really more like petrified--of the dark? I don’t just mean just that childlike, ”I’m scared of the dark, get me my teddy-bear” kind of scared. I mean the “I am PETRIFIED something’s gonna kill & eat me--in a Stephen King-horror-story-way” kind of scared of the dark. And it gets really dark in Belize in the evening. VERY dark.

So, as I’m walking down the stairs, flashlight in hand, my terror of the darkness simmering just below the surface, I see a large, square-shaped object hovering just across the canal, its red and green lights illuminating the skyline, thin vapors of smoke trailing out of its backside. I know it’s not an airplane because it’s way too low. And it’s square.  Besides, airplanes aren’t allowed to fly after dark in Belize! I must have stared, unblinking, for a good minute, trying to make sense of this unrecognizable “thing” in my mind. Then I suddenly I realized—Oh My God--It’s a flying saucer! It’s a goddamn SQUARE UFO!!

I was frozen on the bottom step. I couldn’t move.  Sheer panic rose in my throat. Visions of aliens hauling me away for unimaginable acts or harvesting of my organs flitted quickly through my stunned brain. But wait, we are in Belize--not the middle of the Nevada desert! This is not Area 51! There is NO such thing as UFO’s!  But I know in my heart and my soul that THAT is an EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL SPACECRAFT! It's a UFO! I have never been so certain of anything in my life. I was seeing it with my very own eyes. My paralysis finally broke. Screaming in terror, I ran back up the stairs, hollering at the hubby “OH Jesus God, Get up, you bastard! Get the (bleep) UP!!! RIGHT NOW! Come and LOOK!!” I drag him off the couch and down the stairs. “What in the HELL IS THAT? Is that a UFO?!”

Some call it a "Crow's Nest"

I call it a Widow's Walk

As the hubby shambles down the stairs and takes a good look through his sleepy eyes, not hearing the urgency or sheer terror in my voice, he quietly says, “Yeah, I heard some rumors about UFO sightings in Belize lately. But honey, that’s just the neighbors, putting up their Christmas lights around the railing on their widow’s walk…. And they seem to be grilling out.”    

My friends tell me that even though we call it a “widow’s walk," the proper term for it is a “crow’s nest” or an “observation deck.” It’s a simple structure commonly built at the rooftop level on many houses in Placencia, meant to allow for catching a cool breeze or watching the sunrise or sunset over the water. But in my “Stephen King-horror-story-terrified” frame of mind, I looked across the canal in the black of night and saw a UFO. And probably always will. At least until Christmas is over and the neighbors take their lights down.

If You See Me Smiling......

Thought I was smiling.....

I have a confession to make.  Some of you won’t be surprised by this confession, some of you may be shocked.  But, the cold, hard truth is:  I don’t always smile.  At least not effortlessly, or randomly, or even on cue, the way some people are able to.  It’s not that I’m an UNhappy person, although dear hubby would sometimes disagree.  And it’s not that I don’t WANT to smile.  I AM happy, and I DO smile often, and when I do choose to smile, it’s REAL.  It’s just that I’m not naturally one of those blissfully, joyful, grinning weirdos who bounce around smiling ALL the time.  You know who I’m talking about, those people whose brains are full of rainbows, lollipops, unicorns, and puppy dogs, all bursting to get out.

Fake Smile

But there’s more.  I have to come clean on something else.  When someone finds me sitting somewhere, seemingly emotionless, bland-faced and yet, contentedly minding my own business, and flippantly instructs me to “Smile!”, I want to smack them in the face.  With a board.  (Now, that might make me smile!)  Listen up folks: For those of us who are not “natural smilers” – telling us to smile is only going to accomplish the opposite.  Unless we happen to like you, and then we may or may not choose to humor you with a fake, emotionless smile.    

My "resting" face.  Natural.

I don’t know why, but my “resting” or “natural” face has always been rather serious, stoic, and devoid of emotion.  The funny thing is, I am rarely aware of it until someone points it out. I know part of my problem is that many times I honestly THINK I’m smiling when I’m not. I feel the joy in my heart, the delight in my brain, and the humor in my soul, and so I take for granted that it’s also showing in my face.  But it seems the signals from those neurons and synapses upstairs don’t always make it down the chute to my mouth, ready to go to work pulling up the corners of my lips.

I thought I was smiling BIG here!

I hereby admit and acknowledge my smiling dysfunction, and even submit that I have tried to reprogram myself.  About four years ago, I got a new laptop with a built-in camera, so I used it to take some pictures of myself.  It was shortly after my brain surgery, and I wanted to know what I REALLY looked like, and if I still looked "normal."  So, I took a whole bunch of  “selfies," doing a nice smile in each picture I took.  Ironically, I not only smiled, I literally laughed out loud, but not until I went through them later.  My “smile face” looked like someone had put dog poop in my Cheerios and I had a mouthful!  So, I took a bunch more pics, and really studied when I “thought” I was smiling, and figuring out how much harder I had to work to actually “be” smiling.  It was an eye-opening experiment.

And so I've spent the last 4 years teaching myself how to not only feel the smile, but to “smile” the smile.  I still have to practice sometimes, and I still don't always remember to do it.  But, I just thought I should tell you.  Just so you’ll know.  In case you see me walking around the village, just smiling and bouncing along with lollipops, puppy dogs, unicorns, and rainbows falling out of my head…….

The Real Deal!

I Have Become My Mother......

My parents on their wedding day

Today would have been my dad's 69th birthday, and it got me thinking quite a bit about about my parents, who have both passed away now.  Whenever I think of them, I often wonder, how do we end up becoming just like our parents, no matter how hard we try to avoid it?  As a kid, I swore I was going to be so different-- I was going to be the one to "break the chain."  I was going to be normal! Even though I didn't think my parents, or the things they did were remotely normal, I vowed I was not going to do the "abnormal" things that they did.  I believed I would do things.....well.... different.  And, of course in my childish righteousness, I was certain I would never make the mistakes they made.

Dad, Me, Brent, and Mom (circa late 60's!)

And though I have a few of my father's personality traits, there is absolutely no doubt that I am my mother's daughter.  Before she died, people used to say I even looked just like her.  My voice sounds just like hers.  I am built just like her.  And when I look in the mirror, I see her face staring back at me, especially the older I get!  But even more telling is the fact that I have made all the mistakes I believed she made, and many more.  I've came up with some even crazier stunts, and done so many more things completely ass-backwards than she ever dreamed of doing.  Even though I was so determined to be different, and not do the "imperfect" things I believed she did, I have somehow become EXACTLY like my mother.  

The look I was aiming for

That realization hit me smack in the face this weekend, when after coloring my hair for the third time in one week, I still hated it.  And, yet, I was already thinking about coloring it one more time.  And THAT, my friends, is classic Donna Lou--my mother, who was practically famous for her botched home haircolor experiments!  My face even looked just like hers; with a hilariously surprised, yet knowing expression, staring back in the mirror as I unwrapped my towel and saw yet another failed hair-coloring display.  

My ends were breaking off unevenly, even though I'd toned it and conditioned it as much as possible.  I'd even added a little brown to counteract the yellow, but it still wasn't the color I wanted.  The outgrowth of my naturally dark and "mousey" hair just would not go blonde enough, and I now had three colors--yellow at the scalp, a mucky brown in the middle, and peroxide-fried blond at the frizzy, lifeless ends. And yet, I was still thinking of to giving it another go!  Worst of all, this isn't the first or even the second time I've done this throughout the years.  I've done it over and over.  Just like mom!

My natural color, last seen 4 years ago

Later that day, a close friend told me it was "cute" and that it looked just like Austin Powers' hair.  I was crushed--Austin Powers wasn't exactly the look I was going for.  I have finally resigned myself to making an appointment with a professional next week.  I'll be having it all cut quite short again, and letting it go back to my natural color, so I can start over once more. Just like mom!

Have you ever found yourself doing the things you swore you'd never do "just like your parents?"  

  

When You Wish Upon a Star.......

I originally started this post Monday morning, but thanks to several interruptions in my internet service which ended in a complete "freeze" of my blogger account, I couldn't finish.  Then the hubby unexpectedly took a day off and took me to the beach yesterday to celebrate a local holiday, and I was in no condition to write when we got home (thanks Barefoot crew!).  But as they say on tv, "We now return you to our regularly scheduled programming!"

Earlier this week, I noticed one of the talk shows was broadcasting from Disneyland in celebration of Mickey Mouse’s 85th birthday.  As a child, my family didn’t have the money to take fancy vacations, so going to Disney was an impossible fantasy for me, and as an adult I never made it a priority to go, although I'd still really like to. But it got me thinking about all the other things I’d still like to do and see before it's too late, and what's on my bucket list.

I'm betting that the number one item on my list just might surprise you.   Because even though I was the only girl in the family (with five brothers!), I wasn't much of a tomboy while growing up, and was definitely not interested in sports. But I’ve become a big NFL fan over the last 20 years, specifically a fan of the New England Patriots, and I watch football religiously every Sunday, Monday and Thursday.  I know it’s a bit strange for a girl to be such a big fan of a football, but I am!

Courtesy of NFL.com

And my dream would be a trip to Gillette Stadium in Foxborough, Massachusetts, for a New England Patriots football game.  Preferably at playoff time--in the snow! And, of course I’d need to spend a few extra days, because there’s an entire village called “Patriot Place”-dedicated to all things Patriots, where I could spend so much time (and of course, money!)

Sadly, the hubby and all his family members are avid Indianapolis Colts fans--and my beloved Patriots are the much hated enemy of the Colts.  Any mention of such trip to my "other half" usually results in painful facial expressions, dramatic cringes, and much muttering of foul language.   But I would give my right arm, or leg, (or both!) to attend a game with other “Pats” fans, maybe get to tailgate, and shop in "Patriot Village."  Just once.

Courtesy of Patriots.com

In a cruel twist of fate, I got to see their fabulous new stadium a few years ago--briefly, from the parking lot for about five short but glorious minutes.  But I didn’t even get to go in. I was running late for a plane, so I took a few pictures from the parking lot and drove away.  It was demoralizing to be that close to one of my hearts desires, and have to turn away.  But I’m confident that someday, somehow, I’m going to find a way to go back and make my dream come true.

I believe it will happen, even if I don't know how yet.  Maybe I just need to find a star to wish upon. As Jiminy Crickett sings, "When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are, anything your heart desires will come to you....if your heart is in your dream, no request is too extreme, when you wish upon a star, as dreamers do......"  Thank you Walt Disney, and Jiminy Crickett for helping keep my dreams alive.  And Happy Birthday Mickey! Maybe someday I'll get to meet you, too!

 What's on your bucket list? And what would be the “Number One” item on your wish list?

Voices In My Head?

Do you ever find yourself continuously carrying on conversations, but only in your head? I can’t be the only one who walks around with a running dialogue in my head all day long, can I?  I don’t remember doing it before I had my brain surgery, but it doesn’t seem to me like I did.  Maybe I was always so busy that I just didn’t take the time to listen to myself.  Or, maybe it was that I never got “still” enough – if any of you meditate, you know how hard it is to be "still."  Or maybe I just don’t remember, I will certainly admit my memory is not the best anymore.  Perhaps I just notice it more now because I tend to spend the majority of my days alone (I’m not complaining-I don’t mind being by myself!)

I admit maybe this seems an odd thing to do--having nonverbal interactions in your head all day long with people who aren’t actually there.  But I promise you I have not gone off my meds.  Stick with me here and confess, I know some of you do must do this too, don't you?  I am pretty sure that at least one or two of the other “wannabe writers” are raising their hands……. aren’t you?

I wonder who am I conversing with here?

What I do know, for sure as Oprah would say, is that it’s become more apparent to me since recovering from my brain aneurysm, and even more noticeable since our move to Belize.  It seems half of my day is spent having conversations--but only IN MY HEAD--with myself, with the hubby, with friends and family, and sometimes even with random people.  The talks with myself are often about what I should do, what I could do, and sometimes what I didn’t do.  Other times, these chats are with people who I just know would enjoy a hearing about a particular event or activity I’m involved with.  Sometimes they are with a friend that I believe would appreciate hearing about something new I’ve discovered or seen.

Trouble comes in small packages

But even more regularly, I have conversations in my head with my “besties.”  We talk about the crazy episodes that can only happen here in Belize, my successes and failures learning to cook, and how
much I wish they were here to share those experiences with us.  Most recently, I told those “besties” all about how our little doxie-dog, Bunni (who’s always getting into something), got stuck under the dock trying to fight with a pissed-off Momma Possum.  And how we had to dig Bunni out by hand, while trying not to get bit ourselves.  How we finally freed her by digging out sand and prying up a slimy, rotting board.  In the pouring rain!  In THE DARK for god’s sake!  My besties were very amused (in my head, of course).

I often wonder if people can somehow sense these “mind conversations” or the energy I’m creating while I’m having them.  I believe maybe they can.  It’s odd, but many times when I’ve been carrying on a conversation in my head with someone, I end up receiving a call, a text, a Facebook message, an email, or a “FaceTime” from them the same day!!!  It’s kind of weird I know.  But I have to admit I love having these chats with everyone.  I just wish sometimes they were in person instead of in my head!

I can’t be the only one who does this.  Or am I?

A Tough Day In Paradise

Monkeys are NOT good pets!

People often say to me that living where we do, in a beautiful, tropical country on the Caribbean Sea, must be “like heaven!” Like a DREAM!  And most days it is. Today was not one of those days.   And it reminded me that no matter where you are, no matter how “heavenly” your surroundings, you will have some good days and some not-so-good days, just as you would living anywhere else.  Often, those not-so-good days are the result of me (in my “ugly-American” way) struggling to adapt to a new and different culture.

It’s not that today was necessarily such a “bad” day.  It was just, well……. it was just tough.  Today was my day to volunteer for our monthly PHS vet clinic.  As I’ve mentioned before, I volunteer (and sit on the board of directors) for the Placencia Humane Society (PHS).  Our village doesn’t have a resident veterinarian, and there's none close by, so once a month PHS brings one in from Belize City, and with the help of many generous volunteers, provides low-cost vaccinations, checkups, treatments, and free spays and neuters.

One of many puppies we have fostered

Of course, I love getting to cuddle all the adorable puppies and kitties that come in.  I love getting to meet unusual animals and interesting families.  The clients who come in are such a great mix of people, from those who were born and raised in Belize, to people like us who migrated here, and people who come to visit from far-flung places all over the world.  It’s been a great way to get to know people in the community.  But my difficulty lies in the no-so-cuddly moments.
 
It was not a surprise to me when we moved here that animal care here would be different than Iowa.  We did a lot of research, and also visited different areas of Belize for three years before moving to Placencia.  And, okay, I’m willing to admit, maybe I have an over-developed definition of “minimum standard of care for pets."  At any rate, I was well aware prior to our move that some people in Belize do not treat their pets as valuable members of the family, as we have come to do in US culture.  However, I routinely see situations at the clinic that are still difficult for me to accept.

The vet checks out Runty, who was
born with a deformed leg

For every pet who comes into clinic and is obviously well-cared for, there are just as many that arrive (often for the first time at an advanced age), having never received even the most basic of routine services.  Many pets in Belize never see a vet until they are seriously ill, critically injured, or dying from disease. Tick fever, sarcoptic mange, cancers, and sexually transmitted venereal diseases run rampant, and are often not treated until too late.  Unfortunately, there are still some children, and a few adults too, who torture and maim animals, and think little of it.  It is difficult to see these ugly things up close, and even harder to believe that what little you can do will make a difference.  And, if you love animals as I do, that’s a really tough pill to swallow.

Coatimundis are illegal to have
as pets, but many people do

I can’t say that I’ve truly “accepted” the difference in attitudes towards animals here, but I can say I am trying very hard to learn and to understand it.  I know that Belize is not the only country whose ideas about animals are different than mine.  And I’m definitely not saying that my view is the only correct view.  But I do know it’s very hard to see an animal suffer, knowing as I do from my many years of experience working with dogs, that with just a little preventative care, that misery could have been avoided.  And it breaks my heart into pieces every time.

Cuddle time with Mommy!

So each month, just like today, I pick up the pieces of my broken heart and try to put them back together to heal before the next clinic day arrives.  Carrying those pieces home in your handbag can make for a heavy end to a very tough day, which is why I’m going to hop on the couch for a bit.  It’s time for me to snuggle with Kitti and Bunni.  Their mommy needs them – much more than they need me - at least tonight……

A "Typical" Day

Yesterday, I mentioned that I was going to switch things up.  I’m going to write about the things I want to write about - 30-day challenge be damned!  And first thing I thought of today when I sat down to write was a question I get asked over and over again:  "What do you DO all day?"  Everyone wants to know how I fill my time now that I’m living in paradise and not "working."  So, I thought I'd give you an idea of my day today, which is fairly typical.

Kitti loves hunting!

I wake up early, because it gets too warm to sleep once the sun comes up.  First I hit the deck to smoke a couple cigs and drink some iced coffee.  Let the dogs out.  I check Facebook first, then emails and news sites.  By then, the dogs are telling me they are DYING of starvation.  I mix up three bowls of kibble and veggies, and feed the “pack.”  I don’t like to leave Kitti & Bunni (our tiny mini-doxies) outside unattended, but today is nice.  And the fence is secure, so I let them stay out to hunt geckos a while longer with Foxxi, our rescued potlicker.

It’s already past 8 a.m., and the hubby has left for work.  I go inside to get busy.  I volunteer for Placencia’s Humane Society, and sit on the board, and I have work to do.  I send out the schedule for the upcoming PHS vet clinic.  I set up some lunch options for the volunteers.  Then I spend a half hour doing my online Spanish lessons.  Time's flying, so I start to pick up the dirty dishes & empty beer bottles the hubby left last night, before he fell asleep on the couch watching his Colts play football.  I make the bed and put away clean laundry.  Get another cup of coffee.  Typical boring "housewife" stuff, right?  Yep........

Shoot! I remember that I need to put toner on my hair.  After coloring it myself the other day, it looks pretty brassy.  While mixing the toner, I notice the crockpot of beans that I forgot yesterday.  So I start some hamburger cooking to add to the beans for cabbage stew, and hurriedly go to massage the toner onto my yellow hair, intending to let it "process" while I finish cooking.  As I wind saran wrap around my head to help it “work,” I notice my scraggly eyebrows.  I start to pluck.  I only realize I’ve been away too long when I smell the hamburger scorching in the pan.  Rescuing what’s not burnt, I throw it in the pot.  I hurriedly cut up some cabbage and veggies and toss them in too, along with a bunch of spices and herbs.

Killer bee?

It’s mid-morning already, so I go out to take a break on the deck.  That’s when I see and especially HEAR what appears (to me) to be a giant killer bee frantically buzzing around! He seems confused by all the screens enclosing our deck.  And, he is determined to fly into the saran wrap on my head!  I run inside to grab the bug spray—OMG-where is the RAID???  I can’t find it.  Finally, I locate a can of flea spray and go back to drown that frightening dinosaur--IN FLEA SPRAY!  Finally he’s dead.  Thank god.  Then I remember that Bunni could have died if she had been stung by whatever that huge, furry creature was.  She is highly allergic to anything that stings or bites her.  And there are no emergency vets, or even a full time vet, in Placencia! I make a mental note: buy more children’s Benadryl & look up killer bees on the internet.

OMG!!  I now realize I haven’t seen Kitti or Bunni for a very long time, and also remember there was a six-foot croc sighted in the canal behind us yesterday!  Quickly I run downstairs, screaming at the top of my lungs,  “CHEESE? KITTI - BUNNI – want CHEESE?!!"   I silently hope they have not become a “croc snack.”  Whew-I am able to relax as they come running out of the bushes, and I hustle them upstairs and inside for treats.

No hope for my hair now :( 

Yes, we cut our own hair!

As I wearily sit down at my computer once more, intending to start writing again, I wonder, “what is that burning sensation on my scalp?”  Oh crap!! That toner was only supposed process for 30 minutes! It’s been over an HOUR!  Quickly I jump in the shower and wash it out.  I realize after I towel off that at least an inch of my hair, barely two inches long to start with, is now fried beyond repair.  I make yet another mental note to ask the hubby to get out the hair clippers tonight.  I am close to tears.  I have been growing it out for months.  I seek out the basket of scarves and hats left over from my “brain surgery recovery period” and search for cute ones to wear for the next six weeks or so.  It’s only noon and I’m already thinking of taking a nap.  When dear hubby comes homes for lunch, which is not ready yet, he asks “What have you been doing all morning?”

I sweetly reply, “Oh, nothing much….”

Check in tomorrow for more stories from my life in Placencia, Belize, and beyond!

Throwing a Wrench In It

Welcome to Day 7!  I can’t believe it’s been a week since I’ve started my career as an aspiring writer!  Thank you for the support, encouragement, and advice you’ve given so far.  I am learning a lot and am glad to have you reading along.  But, hold onto your hats because it's just a week into it, and I’m gonna throw a wrench in it.

Each day as I’ve tried to explain my writing assignments to you, I've been  getting a gut feeling that this is not quite the right direction for my blog.  It hasn’t been a process that I enjoyed.  It's gotten harder to write, taken more and more time, and I’ve liked it less.  I feel I need to modify the content and style of this blog, and tweak it to suit me.  While the lessons in the challenge are definitely worth doing, the description of them is, quite frankly, extremely boring.  And really, isn’t writing something I should enjoy, and that you should be interested in reading? Isn’t that what this process is all about?

So, while I will still continue to do the work behind the scenes, I will be telling you less about it.   I can imagine some of you are saying, “Thank god!”  Maybe a few of you are crying out, “but WHY!?”  (probably only the wannabe writers like me!)  But, here’s the deal my friends.  In all the research I’ve done about becoming a writer, the biggest piece of advice that keeps slapping me in the face is “Find Your Own Voice!”  And, in the writing I’ve been doing so far, my voice has been muted, warped by someone else’s noise.  I need to find my own voice and sing my own song!  So, YIPPEE-it’s all about me now! MY VOICE! But….. I need your help to find it.

They say “write what you know,” and I know a little bit about a LOT of things, just look at my profile history for a small sample.  And I want to keep all of you interested in what I have to say.   So, I’m asking you a very important question--What do YOU suggest I write about?  What do YOU want to hear about?  I’m going to put a list of ideas at the bottom, below my closing, to get you started. But feel free to add any suggestions!

In closing today, I feel we’ve come full circle, and are once again at the beginning.  From here, I am again unsure exactly what this blog is going to be about.  But, it’s also exciting, as new beginnings can often lead you to something fantastic! And, I do know it is going to be fun because I will be writing with my own voice, and singing my own song, even if it is a bit wacky & off key!  So, from this point forward, I’m at your mercy.  Please tell me what you want to hear about in the comments section, or message me on Facebook.  I look forward to your suggestions!  And check out my possible topics below!

Just a few of things I could write about:
My adventures in Belize, like ziplining or horseback riding in the jungle? Crazy incidents like getting bit by a poisonous spider or stung in the chest by a scorpion?  My unbelieveable experiences volunteering for Placencia Humane Society?  My feeble attempts at learning to cook in a new country?  Or maybe stories and advice about surviving a move to a foreign country?

Maybe my long history of working with dogs? Funny doggie daycare stories, or training guide dog puppies for the blind?  Basic Obedience training?  Or, when I created a pet therapy program at the prison where I worked?

Maybe you want to hear my stories as a Harley rider (yes, I rode my own Fatboy!) or the time Dick and I took a 22-day trip around the country on our motorcyles, or the times I’ve been to Sturgis.  Or maybe some stories from the years we spent as boaters on the Coraville Resevoir (if you think Harley riders are crazy-you don’t know boaters!)  Maybe my (very) brief stint working at a radio station?

Maybe my long list of surviving or overcoming things, such as: being devastated by divorce (twice!), starting my life over (many times in many ways!), surviving domestic and sexual abuse, or surviving and waking up perfectly fine from a ruptured brain aneurysm and invasive brain surgery (when they nearly had my husband picking out nursing homes)?

(Or something I've forgotten ? I do that a lot! Brain surgery is not the best thing for your memory!)

Getting Focused!

Wow, Day 6 of my 30-day challenge already!  I'm posting later than usual today because I had to take some time to do some thinking about today's assignment, which is about goals and priorities.  That meant I have to get serious about determining what I want to get out of my writing.  

Learning to make donuts!

I admit I also had to take some time out for myself to color my hair today!  Living in Central America, you have to learn to do many things yourself.  Coloring my own hair is just one of things I've learned to do since moving to Belize.  I’ve also been learning to cook, something I never did much before.  And now I’m learning to be a writer! I consider these learning experiences part of the “big adventure” of living abroad, although I’m not sure my hair would be so enthusiastic if it could speak!

But it’s time to do some serious work, so let's get started!  My assignment today is to choose just three goals or priorities that I need to focus on for the next 30 days. These items are intended to define what I feel are the most essential actions I need to do consistently to move me closer to my goal.  

I researched quite a bit, did some heavy reading, and narrowed it down.  Then I got started writing.  And I got carried away.  I felt like I was having a real, face-to-face conversation with you!  I started detailing just what I was going to work on, and how, and why.  I imagined your responses.  (You were very encouraging, thoughtful, and witty, by the way!)  It was a wonderful exchange!  

Then I took a break, and came back to read what I had written.  All I can say is, thank god for the delete button (the man who created it should receive cyber-sainthood!)  It was beyond boring!  

 

So, I started over.  Harshly edited & pared down, these three things are my top priorities, in no particular order: 

1. Continue educating myself and seeking advice from others.  
2. Focus on figuring out my “why.”  Answer “what do I have to offer?”  Narrow down my “niche”
3. Believe I CAN do it. Embrace the uncertainty.  Ignore the distractions and naysayers.  And STOP waiting for permission to go after what I WANT.  

The process of editing my writing reminded me of an important lesson for aspiring writers.  After you think you are done writing, then proofread, edit, & cut.  Rewrite if necessary, and then edit and cut some more.  Pour your heart out in your words, put your soul down on paper if it helps your writing process.  But then go back and slice that heart out.  Hack that bloody sucker up. Rip that soul OUT of your writing!  Wear that useless bloody heart on your shirtsleeve if you must, but cut it out of your writing.  Chop out every single unnecessary word, no matter how carefully you chose it, that is not ABSOLUTELY 100% needed.  I tried.  At least as much as my whimpering writer's heart would allow. 

What goals and priorities do you have for your work?  Have you had to do any harsh editing of your most heart-felt work, or rewrite your goals and priorities?  Please, tell me about it--I love hearing from you!  I saw a wise saying I really liked today, and I want to end with it tonight.  I hope it gives you something to think about -- it did for me.  

“When all our dreams have come true, it is because we have dreamed too little.”  

Dream big, my friends.  Dream big.