Jungles & Kittens & Lionfish...Oh My!

My friend Rena and her two daughters, Electra and Hailey, recently moved to Pumpkin Hill, a lush green jungle filled with banana trees, tarantulas and small boas.  It's a couple of miles outside of town, and not the easiest place to access.  You can only drive as far as the Jungle Cafe, and then you must walk the rest of the way, all uphill. 

They live in a tree house...an actual house built around a very large, very old tree...and it's really kind of cool, although extremely unconventional.  The bathroom is a structure separate from the house, very rustic, with an open shower area on one side and a raised floor containing the commode and sink.  Picture it as the opposite of a sunken bathroom.

The stairs leading to the main floor are poorly spaced and difficult to climb.  A roomy kitchen/dining area and small bedroom are on that level.  A ladder and tree branch take you to the third-floor sleeping quarters.  I found it very difficult to maneuver, but Rena and the girls are young and agile and apparently have no difficulty.  Although rustic, there are all the amenities, including air conditioning.  Rena is a throwback to another time.  She enjoys living off the land, shuns doctors and traditional medicines, and uses only raw milk, whole wheat products and no sugar.  While not for me, this lifestyle suits her perfectly.

If you walk to the top of Pumpkin Hill, you can look down on the entire island and surrounding ocean.  Friends Kate and Daniel took a hike up there and reported an "awesome view".  I didn't make the hike this time, but will return another time and take pictures to share here.

Last week I opened my apartment door one morning to find a tiny orange tabby kitten curled up in a ball on my Welcome mat.  Being a cat lover, and missing the cat I had to leave behind in the states, I couldn't resist picking him up and petting him.  I asked Victor, the caretaker, if he knew where the cat came from and he motioned (not being able to speak English...and I not able to understand Spanish) for me to bring him inside my apartment.

The poor little guy was so tiny and scrawny looking...although cute as a button!  I had no appropriate food for a kitten, so I took a piece of whole wheat bread and broke it up into small pieces and soaked it in a little milk.  He devoured it instantly.  Because he is the color of a Halloween pumpkin, I named him Pumpkin, deciding then and there that he should be my new companion.

Once Pumpkin's belly was full, he took up residence in the spare bed in my bedroom for a nice, long nap.  I used that time to walk to town for cat supplies...food, litter, litter box...and the bonding of pet and pet owner began.

I believe divine intervention brought Pumpkin to me.  He was a starving kitten without a home, and I was alone and in need of a friend.  It was serendipity that he arrived at my door that morning.  Now we are both joyful in our friendship.  He snuggles with me at night, plays with me during the day, and...being a frisky kitten...sometimes gets into mischief.

It's all good.  We were meant for each other. 

Last weekend there was a Lionfish Cookoff in town.  I had never heard of lionfish before, but apparently they have migrated here from Florida.  An invasive species, they are a poisonous spiky fish with few predators.  For this reason, Lionfish Derbies are often held to help keep the lionfish population under control.  This is especially important to help preserve the habitat of the reef.

Following the early morning Derby, chefs from several restaurants in town prepared some exotic lionfish samplers for the people of Utila.  We all gathered at Tranquila, a local restaurant/bar for the free, tasty treats: seviche, fish spread & crackers, baked fillets with aromatic herbs, croquettes and curry.  The lionfish is a mild-tasting white fish, so added herbs and spices is what gives it flavor.

There were shoulder-to-shoulder people, and it was difficult to even get close to the food, but well worth standing in the long lines for a taste.  This is a photo of my friend, Linda, with her daughter, Sarah, who was visiting from Santa Fe, New Mexico.  Utila is a small island and...with the exception of short-term tourists...you get to know most everyone, so it was an enjoyable afternoon visiting with island friends as well.

I've been invited to join Dustin and Kate, Managers of Rio Coco, for Thanksgiving dinner.  We will all gather at Sondy's, since she has the largest table seating.  We're still working out the details...who brings what...but it will be nice to be with some of my Utila family for the holiday.  Skyping with my biological family will definitely be on the agenda!  It's a little difficult for me to wrap my head around the holidays this year because of my location.  It's far too warm and tropical to be thinking about holidays I equate with snow and cold!

Despite this being the rainy season, we have seen numerous sunny days.  The rains come sporadically and...thankfully...mostly during the night.  Sometimes there are showers during the day, but then the skies clear and the sun comes out.  One morning's shower ended with a beautiful double rainbow...only the second one I've seen in my lifetime.  The island continues to enthrall me!

Island Butterfly

I should apologize for being remiss in publishing my blogs.  I've been so busy flitting about the island, meeting new people, making new friends, having coffee/lunch/drinks with old(er) friends.  All part of the process of finding my niche and becoming an island local.

The Sandstone Apts. are filled and bustling with new energy.  Rita, the owner, left for Texas yesterday to spend time with her two daughters who both just had babies...one of them, twins!  Another of her daughters, Sondy, is here from the mainland to take care of things while Rita is gone.  Sondy is my son's age, and we've been "buddying up" for coffee at Rio Coco in the mornings.  Some evenings she will join me for a glass of wine and some conversation.  She's also been very helpful in introducing me to local remedies for keeping mosquitos and sand flies at bay...a huge frustration here in Utila.

Rena and her two pre-teen daughters, Electra and Hailey, live above me.  They are very in tune with the earth and rigid in their religious beliefs.  They eat only natural foods and use no pharmaceuticals of any kind.  Rena treated Electra's skin infection with garlic, and she showed me how to use the membrane fom the inside of an eggshell in place of a band-aid on a wound.  Both remedies were extremely effective...amazing!

A young couple from Majorca moved in next door to me.  They are training to become Certified Dive Instructors.  Next to them is Jason, here from Canada to combine his two vocations...Dive Instructor and Life Coach...into a new online enterprise.  Mac and Nicole, two Seventh-Day Adventist Missionaries, fill out the small community at the Sandstone.  All are friendly, generous and interesting people.

Tom & Jo, recently retired, are building a beautiful home at the opposite end of the island from me, across from the Cays (pronounced Keys).  He picked Jan and I up in his inflatable motor boat one day last week and brought us for a tour of the new digs.  The "banana boat", as he calls it, rests on tubes, which help to keep it afloat.  The floor of the boat opens up so that he and Jo can dive without having to go over the side of the boat.  It's an amazingly smooth ride, even on rough water.

As we approached his dock, workmen were busy putting the finishing touches on the second (main) level and the swimming pool in front of the house.  Tom believes work on the house should be completed in another week or two, but there is still landscaping to be done.  The house is lovely, with all the bells and whistles, and the view from their home is quite enviable. 

Yesterday I made my way to the Driftwood Cafe for lunch and a couple of friendly rounds of Scrabble with Linda, who lives at neighboring Margaritaville.  Later this afternoon she and Sharon, co-owner of the Drift, are going to pick me up for a Ladies' Night at Loretta's.  They were going to snorkel first...then eat, drink and visit...but a little tropical storm blew in overnight and has continued throughout the day, so the snorkeling is probably on hold.  More time to eat and drink...and, of course, visit!

When I didn't show up at Rio Coco for coffee this morning, Sheldon came out to check on me.  He rode his bike all the way out in the rain.  He tells me how much he enjoys conversation with me, and I can't be sure if it's honesty or flattery.  I'm a little wary of men and the possibility of their deceit, given my previous history.  I'll continue to be cautious, and time will tell. 

We had a break in the rain later in the morning, so Sondy quickly came to round me up for a trip to Rio Coco.  Because of the rain and ensuing cooler temperature, we decided to have a hot cup of Mocha instead of the usual iced Mochas.  Kate was actually wearing a sweatshirt!  Kate and Dustin, newly married for just one month yesterday, are doing an exceptional job of running Rio Coco, and it's refreshing to witness their enthusiasm.  The Honduran and Nicaraguan coffees are excellent, and at only $2.25 for a latte, it's a real deal!

I have been here for two months now, and it really feels like home.  I've become accustomed to the cultural differences, as well as the island "quirks"...such as no satellite when it rains and no flushing of toilet paper down the toilet...and the people I've met and quickly become friends with are unassuming, helpful and gracious.  Life as an island butterfly is, thus far, satisfying and joyous.

Adjusting

I've been on this lovely island for one month now. Some major adjustments have taken place, and I've experienced some emotional highs and lows as well. No one said a move such as this would be easy!

Medical issues have been front and center for a few weeks. I was taking a low-dose antidepressant for nerve pain in my feet and was trying...unsuccessfully...to get the medication here. You can walk into any pharmacy here and just ask for Valium, but antipsychotics, antidepressants and anticonvulsants require a prescription. Due to the lengthy process, I had run out of the medication I brought with me. I was on edge...waiting for the unbearable pain to start...and frustrated that it was seemingly impossible to get what I needed.

Just when I had a doctor's prescription and thought I was finally going to get my meds, fate stepped in again. The pharmacy didn't 'like' the doctor's stamp on the prescription.  I was on the verge of despair when I thought to myself, "wait...your feet have been all right...a little numbness off and on, mainly due to uncomfortable shoes or sitting for too long."  What if fate were telling me to get off the medication?  And so the decision was made to let fate decide.  So far, so good!

I was also experiencing considerable fatigue during the day.  'Something' was waking me up in the middle of the night...usually around 2-3 AM...scratching, clawing...in the walls?...under the floor?  What was it?  Where was it?  Once awakened by it, I couldn't stay in the bedroom.  What if it was able to get in there? 

The next night I pushed the two chairs together and slept in the living room.  Not very comfortable, and not a good night's sleep.  I spoke to the owner about the noises.  She thought it was caused by palm branches rubbing against the building, so she had the handyman...Victor...cut the brush back.  I slept, once again, in the bedroom and was awakened at 4 by the scratching.  Back to the living room! 

The next night we had an angry storm...a deluge of rain and crashes of thunder that shook the apartment building.  There was much more than scratching that night...loud and desperate clawing, up, up, up the wall...thumping...crashing.  I couldn't take much more of this.  Victor speaks no English, and I speak no Spanish...and so, I mimed to him the events of the previous night!  Later in the day, the owner stopped by to tell me that Victor had found a very large iguana trapped in a pipe leading to the cistern.  He freed it...problem solved!

At the same time as the ensuing quandry about my feet/medication, we experienced quite a bit of rain on Utila.  I was staying put in my apartment...not wanting to get drenched and not wanting to overdo the walking because of my feet.  I began to miss my family...miss my friends...everyone I knew and loved was so far away.  I wasn't sleeping well because of my unseen visitor.  I was worried that I could soon be in unbearable pain.  I was having an extra glass of wine at night to help me sleep.

I realized I was experiencing some mild depression, so I had a long talk with myself.  "You know this isn't uncommon, Carolyn.  Anyone who makes a lifestyle change will, at some point, ask themselves 'what was I thinking?'.  You were expecting this.  Now deal with it.  You're a sociable person, and you need people in your life.  It's not good to sit in this apartment and dwell on things you can't change.  Make sure you get out with people every day.  Walk to Rio Coco for an iced latte.  Sit and talk with the nice young men who work there.  Strike up conversations with the other customers.  Go to the book/video store or one of the realty companies and get to know the owners and employees better.  Get out and DO...every single day, rain or shine!"

I'm nothing if not a good listener, and I paid close attention to what I told myself!  The very next day I journeyed to Rio Coco.  I had an interesting conversation with a young couple from Portland, Oregon, who are traveling all over Central America.  They were leaving for El Salvador that afternoon.  I met an absolutely gorgeous young man with the most beautiful tattoos I have ever seen.  After complimenting him, he explained the elaborate tats to me in detail.  It was satisfying just to gaze on his beauty.  A couple of days later, I made a new friend there...Sheldon...who surprised me with freshly caught tuna the following afternoon.

The health benefits of living here have been amazing.  Not only am I off the medication I was taking for nerve pain, but I have stopped taking Prilosec for acid reflux.  I'm eating smaller meals, walking every day, losing weight.  I've had no sinus problems since I've been here.  No allergies?  No pollution?  Salt air?  I don't know why, but I'm happy to not have a constantly drippy nose.  No more back issues...that's huge!  Before I left the states I was barely able to straighten up after bending over.  My fingernails have grown long and hardened.  I can't remember the last time I was able to grow my nails long!

An added bonus, I'm now very comfortable in my apartment.  No more scary noises; I fall asleep to the sound of ocean waves breaking on the shore; all my mementos of family and friends are strategically placed; although I can't have a pet here, I do have a gecko family that comes and goes.  Having the proper perspective helps, and it's important to not allow anything to keep you down.  I am only as weak as I allow myself to be...and as strong as I will myself to be.       

Becoming a Utilian

It's not as easy to set up residency in Utila as it may be in other countries.  Setting up a bank account was a huge hurdle, although friend, Jan, was surprised that I was able to get one in a week's time.  It took four trips to the bank. 

On the first visit we found out what was needed: two notarized letters of recommendation...one from my bank in the states and one from a person or business owner in Utila.  I had the letter from the bank, but either Jan had neglected to tell me to get it notarized or I zoned it out when she told me.  Jan said she would supply the letter of recommendation for me.  She has a seal because she set up a corporation here on Utila for legal purposes. 

Jan also thought she could get the municipal judge here on Utila to stamp the letter from my bank and that would take care of both items.  Just in case, she had me make a copy of the bank letter to send back home with my daughter.  Then, if the bank didn't accept that seal, I could get my daughter to go to my bank, have it notarized, scanned and emailed to me, thus eliminating the two-three week's delay in mailing it.

A few days after the first visit, we returned to the bank with my bank letter, stamped by the judge...which cost me ten dollars...and Jan's letter with her stamp.  Well, that didn't go over at all!  The bank didn't like Jan's seal because there was too much ink on it.  They also didn't like the judge's seal because it needed to be notarized by the person at my bank who signed the letter, not a Honduran stamp.  Try again!

Jan printed out her letter once again and stamped it with a lighter touch.  I phoned my daughter and asked her to take the copy of the bank letter to my bank and have the person who signed it notarize it and email it back to me.  That actually only took two days.

Jan dropped me off at the bank on the third try, while she ran errands.  I guess she figured I was an old hand at it by now and didn't need her supervision!  Both letters were accepted.  But wait!  A form also needed to be filled out with my check of deposit and the letters of recommendation, and...wouldn't you know...they needed my cell phone number.  All good and well, except I didn't have one!  Oh, I'd had one in the states...a Tracfone...but they don't work out of the country.  And, on the island of Utila, U.S. Cellular and the like don't work either.  I have Skype and also a Magic Jack...both of which work from my computer...but they needed a Honduran phone number.  They also needed the phone number of the person I'm renting from.  I assured the (very nice, very helpful) young woman that I would be back as soon as possible.

Luckily Jan had Rita's phone number programmed in her phone.  Finding a cell phone for me might not be so easy.  The first place we went said they were having a problem activating their phones, so they couldn't sell them until that was straightened out.  We went to another place where we had better luck, and he set it up in English instead of Spanish.  I only bought 50 lemps worth (about $3 U.S dollars) of minutes, because I knew I would only use the phone in case of emergency.

Back to the bank...and...success!  I now had a Utilian bank account.  Before you get too excited, though, I can't use the account for twenty-two business days.  Which means I will probably run out of cash before I can go to the bank and get more!  Jan has assured me she will not allow me to go hungry, however, and if I need money before I can get some out, she will help me out.

On a lighter note...while I was at the bank for the third time...Jan introduced me to a friend of her's, Sue, who happens to be a neighbor of mine.  She lives just two houses down from me in a home that she designed herself, with a magical view of the ocean.  She's a retired school principal from Indiana (originally Pennsylvania) and lives in her house with two extremely funny Springer Spaniels, George and Kramer.  She has a boyfriend who is sometimes here and sometimes in the states. She asked for my email address before leaving the bank, and by the time I returned home, I had an email from her inviting me over that afternoon.

We had such a nice visit, many things in common, and I knew by the time we returned from having dinner together that I had made a new friend.  A new bank account and a new friend...all in all, not a bad day.  I'm really beginning to feel like a Utilian!

My First Week In Utila

Although I was exhausted from traveling the entire previous day, I was up before the sun rose on my first full day in Utila.  After unpacking my luggage, I showered, dressed, and Monice and I started out on our first walk to town.  It was early yet, and not too hot. 

Jan had told us the night before which stores were the best for price, fresh produce, delicious meals, the best coffee.  We stopped at a bakery(above)...with a very unusual name...that she had recommended for excellent coffee and bacon-broccoli quiche.  She was spot-on with her assessment.  The meal cost $3.50.

At 10:00 AM, Jan picked us up in her golf cart and drove us, first, to the bank, where two armed guards checked our bags prior to knocking on the window, signaling the guard inside to unlock the door and let us in.  Crime is minimal in Utila...occasionally someone has a laptop stolen...but Honduras is a poor country and having armed guards in front of the bank acts as a deterrent.  Monice and I both exchanged our U.S. dollars for lempiras (or lemps, as the locals call them).  The U.S. dollars are accepted everywhere, but the exchange rate varies by store, so it's the better deal to do it at the bank.

We were gone all day, as Jan drove us over almost every inch of the island.  We visited many shops, with Jan introducing me to everyone.  Chris, an American from Oregon, owns a book/video store.  They can be bought, rented or swapped, and the rental fee is twenty lemps per week, or one U.S. dollar. 

Chepes Beach was a favorite spot during our tour.  It's a beautiful vista of blue/green water and white sand, without a speck of litter seen anywhere, and no seaweed washed onto the shore.  I'm not sure if the lack of seaweed has to do with the warm water, or if there's another reason.  Palms and coconuts sprinkled the beach, and a lovely bar/restaurant, The Driftwood, was where we enjoyed seafood for lunch and margaritas to cool us off.

Jan showed us both of her homes.  The first one she built is for sale, a one-room all-inclusive beach cottage with gazebo and plenty of land to build a larger home or add on to the existing one.  Her new house is across the street, much larger with two stories and a huge deck off the bedroom which overlooks the bay.  The house operates on solar power, so the lucky lady is not affected by storms and power outages.

The flora and fauna are magnificent on the island.  Hibiscus bloom everywhere, along with many varieties I've never seen.  The colors are brilliant and, thanks to tropical rains which blow in and out in record time, everything is lush and green.  The island is littered with tiny hermit crabs (see below) and larger crabs with one gigantic claw which makes them look off-balance.  Tiny geckos are scattered everywhere.  They frequently visit in my apartment and, sadly, I accidentally smooshed my first visitor in the window.  Larger iguanas, called wishie willies by the locals, also can be seen crossing the road or scaling the side of a building or wall.

The days flew quickly.  We walked into town twice a day....once in the morning for breakfast or coffee and maybe a little shopping, and again in the late afternoon for dinner and pictures of the sunset.  We found a wonderful place for coffee that just opened recently, and it's not very far from my apartment...maybe a 10-minute walk.  Rio Coco Beans is owned by Michael & Laura Bagby, missionaries who came to Honduras to help the Miskito Indian refugees who fled to Honduras from Nicaragua during the war.  The cafe is staffed by volunteers, including two of their daughters, Arielle and Moselle, and their profits go towards helping the schools.

There are many things on the island that are quite different from the life I left behind in the states.  The locals do whatever they can to make money.  They don't beg or pester the tourists for money or services, but sprinkled here and there throughout the streets of town are tables or lean-to's with everything from mangoes to baked goods to hand-crafted jewelry for sale. 

Some locals find very unique ways to earn money, such as the master craftsman who builds coffins fashioned as coffee tables.  Although slightly macabre, they are a hot commodity here on the island. Locals and tourists alike buy them for their dual purposes: a useful piece of furniture while they live, and a resting place after death.

A final day on Utila for my daughter was spent mostly at the various beaches.  She collected rocks, shells and pieces of coral for her son, even finding some larger pieces for me to decorate my apartment.  I was sad at the thought of her leaving, and I felt strangely vulnerable at being left alone to experience life on Utila.  "This is what you wanted, Carolyn", I reminded myself.  "You can do this."

  

On the morning she left, I cried and held tight to her.  I didn't wait for the ferry to leave.  That would be prolonging the agony.  Instead I returned home to my cute little apartment, intent on scrubbing, cleaning and organizing...both to keep my mind busy and to also make the place my own.  It will be a mental adjustment, but I will make Utila my home.  I will find my purpose here.

 

Finally: Home to Utila!

I can't believe I've been here one week today. August is the hottest month in Utila, and I've taken to wearing not-so-charming sweatbands on my head to keep the sweat out of my eyes. Mid-day the sun bakes into every pore, so it's good to be out and about earlier or later in the day. That said, I'm loving it here!

My daughter made the trip with me and spent five wonderful days here as I became acclimated to the island. I should have been blogging each of those days, regaling you all with the wonders and mysteries of Utila, but I hesitated being rude to my daughter, since we will not be seeing much of one another in times to come.

Travel to Utila went fairly well. We flew Delta from Milwaukee, changed in Atlanta, and arrived in San Pedro Sula, Honduras on time and with no difficulties. I was made to buy a return ticket to the states: apparently Honduras wants you to leave in three months. However, I intend to apply for residency, so an extremely helpful Delta employee helped me buy a refundable ticket back to the states. It was a very expensive ticket, hence the refundable factor.

Arrival in Honduras was a little bit of a culture shock. The airport was not as efficient or high-tech as in the states. There was a long line to get through customs, but an airport official kept scanning the lines and picked out the elderly, disabled, women with small children and, I believe, a few beautiful women to move to the fast exit line.

Our driver, Ralph, was waiting for us with his "taxi": a Kia pickup. Driving in Honduras is a real challenge. They drive on either side of the road...lines mean nothing...and while Ralph got us to the ferry in La Ceiba safely, there were times when I just closed my eyes and prayed.

The trip from San Pedro Sula to La Ceiba took over two hours. We stopped at a nice restaurant where we had an excellent buffet-style meal, although the restrooms left lots to be desired. The poverty of Honduras was evident throughout the drive. Many homes were little more than shacks. Surprisingly, the more affluent, well-maintained homes were built right next to the ramshackle residences with month's worth of trash strewn about. People mostly walked or rode bicycles. Dogs roamed the streets, their prominent rib cages giving them a skeletal look. Horses...overloaded with bundles of sticks or fruit from the African Palm, which is processed to make palm oil...looked emaciated and sickly.

We just made the ferry on time. Ralph took care of checking our luggage, while I bought tickets to the island. The water was calm and the almost-one-hour trip, uneventful. I felt a sense of euphoria as I disembarked the Utila Princess. I had really done it! Jan was waiting for us with her golf cart, and she drove us first to the grocery store, and then to the Sandstone Apts.: my new home. Victor, the caretaker, speaks only Spanish, and Jan, Monice and I speak only English, so a lot of pseudo-sign language took place.

After being up for the past 16 hours, and travelling for 12 of those, we were too tired to unpack all but what was needed for sleeping. Also too tired to prepare a meal, we had bought a bag of nachos and some cheese sauce along with two bottles of wine at the store. I unpacked the "Life's a Beach" wine glass, and we retired to the deck outside with our treats. We toasted my new life as we listened to the sound of the surf.

Final Preparations

It was a whirlwind final week in the states. If I'm totally honest, I was worried that I wouldn't get everything finished in time. But then, this move has been "charmed" since the very beginning and two things worked to my advantage.

First of all, I was scheduled to work on Tues. and Wed., which would have really added to the time crunch. However, at the last minute I was told I would be unable to drive the school bus because my federal medical card had expired the previous week...a two-day bonus!

Secondly, I was informed by the apartment manager that I was not required to shampoo the carpets...a chore for which I had set aside an entire day. Lucky, lucky me!

Still, it was a week packed with so many last-minute details. My driver's license was about to expire, so I had to get to the DMV to renew. Sure that it would be a long wait, I was surprised that it took just over a half hour to accomplish.

The mattress, which my son had loaned me after the sale of my bed, needed to be returned, and although I had been able to slide it down the stairs on it's side, I knew it needed to be carried out to the car...something I would be unable to do alone. Good friend, Orton, came home with me after meeting me for a final cup of coffee at Victor Allen's. Between the two of us, we managed to get it in the Prius. I returned Orton to his pickup and the mattress to my son.

Packing: we've all had to do it, and it isn't much fun! Two suitcases to check, one to carry on, and a tote bag complete with laptop. With today's restrictions, I had to carefully choose what to put in which bag. When finished, I worried that the two bags to be checked were overweight! Well, that would have to wait until I got to my daughter's house, where there would be a scale available. Turns out I was worried for nothing!

Cleaning: oven, stovetop, fan, cupboards, pantry shelves, bathroom, vacuuming, scrubbing floors (my knees complained long and loud...yes, I got down on all fours to give it a thorough scrubbing!). I made so many trips down two flights to the dumpsters that I lost count. You could have eaten off any surface in that apartment by the time I was done!

Returned my Prius to the car dealership. One signature, hand over the keys, done! I am a key-less person now...no car, no home, no more putting up with bad drivers on the road. I'm not sure if people have to lock their homes on Utila or not, but I do know there will be no cars and no bad drivers. There's bound to be a downside, but for one more day I can pretend Utila will be a paradise...the perfect Eden.

The goodbyes have been numerous, emotional, and even painful. Many friends and coworkers hugged and cried with me. Even my boss teared up, and we've only known one another for this past school year. My daughter, Monice, gave me a killer farewell party, complete with hanging lanterns, palm trees and reggae music. Even though it rained off and on, most of the time the sun shone and friends and family ate, drank, and shared stories and a few good laughs.

Today...which is also my 65th birthday...I said my goodbyes to son, Jamie, his wife, Aimee, and my three-month-old granddaughter, Ruby. They took me out for breakfast for my birthday, we visited and took pictures, then parted tearfully. My heart was breaking as I watched them drive away. They are thinking of visiting in March of 2012...before Ruby is walking and can sit on their laps on the plane, and while winter snowstorms are still wreaking havoc in frigid Wisconsin...which isn't too far off.

Now it's off for an early bedtime, since we must leave for the airport at the unholy hour of 2 AM. Look for the first photos of Utila on Tues., Aug. 23, along with a story or two about our travel. So long Wisconsin, and goodbye to the US of A!

Almost There!

It's hard to wrap my mind around literally "being" in Utila just two weeks from tomorrow. My entire life for the past six months has been "planning" this move. It will seem strange, I believe, to enter a different phase of this monumental change.

The last couple of weeks have been extremely busy. I saw my primary care physician for a physical, ECG and blood work. She was very thorough, and gave me a folder with copies of pertinent health care records to bring with me. I also had my annual mammogram. My doctor laughed when I told her that the American doctor on Utila is rather unconventional...apparently never wears shoes, even when seeing patients!

I've had some tearful goodbyes already with people I don't see that often. Today was my last day driving the senior citizens to church on the bus. They gave me a lovely card, and as an added bonus I shared some of Al's birthday cake at St. Luke's...yesterday he turned 100! Everyone wished me good luck and safe travels. They are such lovely people, and I will miss them.

I met my friend, Audrey, when she was a resident and I was the office manager at The Carolina Apartments. She has lupus and deals with a lot of pain and fatigue. She's had numerous falls, which have necessitated hospital and nursing home stays. Early on I offered to drive her places, and we occasionally went out for lunch. Each Christmas I would pick her up and drive her around to see the lights and decorations. She was so thankful for each and every kindness, and I loved being able to help her out.

I spent an entire day exploring the many thrift stores in the area for shorts. I've never been one to show off my unglamourous gams, but I think I need to get used to it since I'll be living on an island. I also found a few sleeveless tops...something else I don't normally wear, due to the "bat wings" we older women develop! I'm counting on having a brand new body after several months of walking around that 25-square-mile island!

I also bought a few new bras...the kind with extra "lift". It's that older-woman thing again...everything heads south. These bras were absolutely extraordinary! One is black with tiny white polka dots...one is very fine blue, green and white stripes...the other is leopard print. Even though no one will see them but me, I'm going to feel like a very hot, sexy, old broad!

I stopped at Smart Motors, where I leased my Prius last year, to tell them I would be returning the car on Aug. 19. I was prepared to hear, "You'll have to pay through the nose since you're returning the car early.", and was flabbergasted when they said I wouldn't owe them anything!

I then had the presence of mind to call my insurance agent and tell her to cancel my car insurance on the 20th and cancel my homeowner's insurance immediately, since I no longer have any furniture left.

Yesterday I began to clean out my pantry, cupboards and refrigerator. I threw out a bottle of salad dressing with an expiration date of May, 2009, and flushed partially-filled bottles of rice wine vinegar and sesame oil...which had only been used a few times in the past 5 years...down the drain. There were also numerous items, such as the white balsamic vinegar, which had never been opened, so hopefully someone will buy those for a song or two at my final moving sale on Friday.

Still lots of last-minute details to take care of. The last week will be the busiest. On Sat., the day after the moving sale, my daughter is hosting an "Aloha Party" for me at her home. On Sun. Lou, a friend and co-worker, is coming to pick up the second...and last...dresser from me. I guess I'll be forced to pack then, since I will have no place to keep my clothes. On Mon. St. Vincent de Paul will come with a truck to pick up whatever remnants are left over from the sale. Tues. and Wed. will be my last work days, and Wed. evening is the "Welcome Back" meeting at the Transportation Center. Even though I'm not returning, my boss has said I can attend the meeting in order to say 'goodbye' to my friends and co-workers. On Thurs. I will renew my driver's license at the DOT, but only for cars...no more bus driving. I probably wouldn't even need to renew, since I won't be driving anything anymore, but I figure it can't hurt to have extra ID. While I (probably) will be spending the day at the DOT, the carpet people will come to shampoo the carpets.

I've already done a lot of the cleaning...filled nail holes, used the Magic Eraser on any marks/smudges on the painted walls...but I will have to scrub the bathroom and kitchen. On Fri. morning I have scheduled my apartment checkout. My daughter will help me load her car with my luggage, then follow me to Smart Mothers, where I will leave my car. Then she will bring me to her place for the weekend, and together we will leave for the airport in the middle of the night Sun., for our 6:30 a.m. flight to Honduras. I hope to find the time to blog one more time before I leave...we'll see how things go.

Memories and Memorabilia

On Saturday, July 16, there was a delightful family get-together at daughter Monice's. My sister's daughter, Kim, along with her husband, Kevin, and granddaughter, Kierra, drove down from north-central Wisconsin. Son James and his wife, Aimee, and seven-week old Ruby joined us as well. The plan was for me to hand down some of the Vorland/Richardson memorabilia to the next generation. In addition, we would cook some of my mother's (Ingrid Vorland Richardson) Norwegian recipes, which I had copied for everyone.

The day began and ended with hugs and laughter. Everyone shared memories past of family gatherings at holidays, weddings, funerals, births and graduations. I asked everyone to pitch in and unload my car of the many boxes of family history I had brought with me. I had painstakingly made a box each for Kim, Monice and James...items I knew would strike a chord with them. In Monice's box I included a pink poodle figurine for grandson Zach...a lover of both the color pink and animals of all kinds. Kim's eyes lit up when she garnered Grandma Richardson's antique jewelry box. James and Aimee, connisseurs of good wine, delighted in the wine-bottle Christmas ornament.

Our first meal of the day was Norwegian pancakes...paper-thin and delicate vanilla-infused crepes which were rolled up after being slathered with butter and a generous scoop of sugar. I made three batches, and we probably could have eaten more, but the day was passing quickly.

Comla was next on the list. A dumpling made of finely grated potatoes and stuffed with several cubes of salt pork, they are boiled in water along with the rind and fat of the salt pork for added flavor. They can be eaten right out of the pot, or chilled well, then sliced and fried in butter. We would have them fried later, along with Norwegian meatballs and gravy, fresh green beans and hearty slabs of bakery bread with thick crusts and soft centers. James had brought hard nuts of mace, which we grated and added to the meatballs. Mace is used in many Norwegian recipes, and is what gives a unique and tasty twist to the cooking.

While we waited for the comla to chill in the refrigerator, I had everyone draw numbers. Starting with the person who drew number one, they began to choose from the items that were not designated for anyone in particular. Monice chose Grandma Richardson's wooden salad set first, as I knew she would. There were lots of laughs as Monice would grab three or four items that she wanted when it was her turn, or Kim would sit back in her chair saying, "I'm not even going to bother because Monice will get what I want anyhow." The banter was light and jovial, and everyone seemed very pleased with what they had chosen. The only item no one seemed to want was a pair of brass candlesticks, and I brought them back home with me for my final moving-sale day.

The two grandchildren, Zach and Kierra, were oblivious to the sentiment in the room and amused themselves with Wii Sports. Even they seemed to enjoy the Norwegian food, however, and I was relieved that I was able to pass the recipes along. I hate to see traditions like that die, and I'm thinking that the family will most likely not be coming to Utila for Christmas anytime soon.

I have resigned myself to making new traditions on Utila. The first Christmas away from my family may be a little sad, but I will make the best of it...as will they. We will talk on Skype during the Christmas festivities, and they will show me via the webcam what a terrific job they did making Norwegian Christmas bread. I will, undoubtedly, be sitting in my beach chair drinking mojitos and listening to the waves lap the shore.

Summer Fun

Additional moving-sale days were rather unremarkable and disappointing. However, I was able to read two new books while waiting for my expected buyers. "Game Change", the back story of the 2008 presidential campaign, was both interesting and insightful. "The Mulberry Tree" by Jude Devereaux was filled with romantic intrigue, and I stayed up later than I'd planned in order to finish it.

I had run around town placing half-off flyers everywhere I could the night before the final day of the sale, and spent an additional $10 on a sign to put in front of the apartment building in the hope of luring people in. The one bright spot in the day was when the young neighbor girl...who had already come four times on various sale days...came to buy the antique Weller pottery which had been my mother's. Each time she had been there previously, she had admired the piece, but the $12 price tag was probably too steep for her. Voila! On the last day of the sale it was only $6, and I had a feeling she would be back to get it. I'm so happy that someone who truly loves the piece now owns it.

As I look around my half-empty apartment, I can't help but chuckle. I am without a bed, a microwave, a bedside table, and I fumble around in the half-dark since most of my lamps are gone. But the Christmas decorations are plentiful, as are the varied sizes of storage containers, craft supplies and hand tools. A number of people wanted to buy my toaster, but I had to tell them to return in August. A carb addict, albeit a healthy one since I only eat whole wheat or sprouted grain breads, I simply couldn't deprive myself of toast or an English muffin for breakfast for almost two months.

An unexpected phone call from the Social Security Office relayed wonderful news: not only is my monthly payment going to be almost $200 more than I was initially told back in February, but I will get my first check on August 24...much sooner than I had anticipated. Guess I should prepare myself for being one of the nouveaux riche on Utila!

For the next couple of weeks I will "amuse" myself while sifting through a lifetime of photos and archiving them for the children. I'm sure there are many that I will throw away...all those professional shots of people's feet, chopped off heads and fuzzy faces that we can't seem to part with once they're developed. Then on to purging files, shredding, and compiling necessary information to leave with my son. Sounds like a fun-filled summer, does it not?

Steps and Missteps

I worked so hard all last week in preparation of my first moving sale at my apartment. I never make things easy on myself either. I hate going to sales where people have thrown things in boxes that you have to rummage through, or sales where they've laid out their "treasures" covered in grime, cobwebs and, oftentimes, in pieces. Therefore, I spent hours making sure everything was clean and in good condition, and also took the time to group things on various borrowed card tables.

My Christmas corner was exceptional. It took an entire day to set up my table tree & decorate it, then surround it with all the other holiday items I'd unpacked. Another table showcased all the antique and collectible items handed down from my parents. I checked on the price of one Red Wing vase at the library...was actually surprised when I found a picture of the exact vase in the Red Wing book...and found it to be worth $60!

The day prior to the sale was spent putting sale tags on everything and little SOLD signs on things already purchased by co-workers. I never finished until 11 PM that night, and fell into bed so exhausted that I set my alarm in case I slept so sound as to not get up at the break of dawn.

Before I was able to rest my weary self, I checked the local paper for my ad. Uh oh...not there! Panicked, I called my friend to ask if she would put a hasty ad on Craig's List, online. I don't have Internet access at my home anymore, and my friend had posted on Craig's List in the past so I knew she could do it efficiently. I was concerned that my moving sale was not going to bring many buyers, but fatigue trumped the concern in the end.

I awoke, refreshed, and got down to business...double-checked everything for price tags, readied the cash box, propped the outer door to the apartments open and put signs up where necessary. I didn't have to wait long for my first customer...someone who had seen the Craig's List posting. ' She bought one of the ashtrays my father had comissioned from an artillery shell at the end of WWII. Surprisingly it did not bring on a wave of nostalgia or regret. Perhaps because I had already "made peace" with my father's spirit over this issue.

Later in the day, however, when a friend and co-worker came to pick up the antique deacon's bench she had bought, my voice caught as I thanked her and said goodbye. I was happy that it was going to a friend. I had moved the bench from Massachusetts to Colorado in a small camper when my mother sold her house. It was a labor of love. Many times, as a child, I had pulled tablecloths, hand-crocheted by my maternal grandmother, from the storage seat in the deacon's bench to play dress-up. That one piece of furniture had played a huge part in shaping the child I was and the adult I became. A moment of sadness.

Only five people graced my sale yesterday, and still I made over $200. Tomorrow I will call Madison Newspapers and scold them, then run the ad...again?...for next weekend. Since I've already done all the work, I'll have the sale on Thurs. and Fri. as well as Sat. I can live in a "furniture showroom" for another week or so, I guess.

Ready to Fly!

Daughter, Monice, and I just made our plane reservations to Utila...hooray! And only $300, which made me deliriously happy. We leave at the crack of dawn on Monday, August 22. Monice will stay for five days...I will stay forever! I'm so thrilled that Monice will be traveling with me. She has been my cheerleader throughout all of my research, decision-making and planning. I'm so grateful to have her shining light in my life.

I've been so busy getting ready for the big moving sale on Saturday. Hopefully most of the stuff will sell...more money to get me started on Utila! I feel like I live in a furniture showroom at the moment! In front of my patio doors is a card table with my table-sized Christmas tree on it...fully decorated, as I thought people would be more interested in buying ornaments if they could see them hanging on a tree. They'll be knocking on my door at 7 am, and I hope they bring lots of cash!

Not much work driving bus this summer...only averaging 10-16 hours/week. Between that, occasional days helping my friend, Ann, with her daughter, Celia (a former student on my bus), and a hefty bonus check for the second semester of driving, and I hope I'll be able to see it through financially until I leave for Utila.

I'm beginning to say my goodbyes. Visited with a former student and her parents last evening. They were so excited with my news. I invited them to visit me at any time on my island, then realized they most likely would never be able to, as their daughter has severe disabilities and no one to care for her during a long vacation so far away. They are good and loving parents...how sad is it that they have to be in this situation?...and yet never a complaint, just loving care for a daughter they adore.

Well, I'll get some rest now, for I know the next two days will be extremely busy with final preparations for the moving sale. I'll let you know how it goes!

So Many Goodbyes

Wed., June 8, was the last day of school for my seniors. It was difficult to say goodbye to them. Some I had been driving the entire eight years I've been a school bus driver.

This year was Celia's last year too. She and I have really bonded over the years. Last summer I spent time with her while her mom took some classes. We went to movies, the splash park, visited a farm and went out for lunches. Her mom and step-dad are great people, and I have a pretty good feeling that they'll visit me on Utila.

Zach became very agitated, as autistic children sometimes do, when I told him I would not be his driver next year. He was a new rider on my bus this year, so I was surprised that he had become that attached to me.

At the beginning of the week my Early Childhood & Speech students finished up their school year. They were so unbelievably adorable, and I will miss each and every one. I was especially fond of Nevaeh, a tiny, sweet chatterbox who had so many funny stories to tell. Riley, a handsome little ball of energy, was another favorite, but they all had endearing qualities that were unforgettable.

At the end of the last day of school...Thurs., June 9...some of the drivers went to a local bar & grille for pizza and drinks. Even the boss joined us, and a good time really was had by all! I never realized that my boss thought so much of me but, he not only gave me an excellent review, he also told me that he was really going to miss me and that it wasn't too late to change my mind. One driver friend has been coming up with one reason after another why I should stay...even saying he has an extra bedroom I can live in and share the rent with him! Another keeps saying to me, "Oh my gosh, you're really leaving, aren't you?".

It's getting a little easier to say goodbye. Oliver (my cat) was the most difficult a couple of weeks ago. I've decided that I should not look at this as "losing" those I love. They have all brought something meaningful to my life, and I will treasure those memories for the rest of my days. What I have gained is far more than what I am losing, so I choose to embrace the delight of these relationships and not the sadness of leaving them.

Importing My Blog

Okay, so this particular blog will be boring. I'm changing my email address and must go through this long, involved process in order to import my blogs from one email address to another. I'm cancelling my Juno account, which costs me $10.95/month and have gotten a Google account, which costs me nothing. When I had my old computer, I needed the Juno to provide me with Internet access. Now that I have a laptop, I can get free wi-fi at coffee shops, at work, and...once I'm in Utila...free with my apartment rental. A much-improved scenario!

A very busy weekend in store. I must get started filling out the paperwork to receive my pension, go online to apply for social security, place more items for sale on the bulletin at work, and box up all my winter clothes for donation next week. Hooray!!! I will never again need a winter jacket, gloves or boots. I think it will be one of the happiest days of my life when I discard them.

More in a few days. Hope this silly import works!

Shedding the Layers of My Life

I sold my mother's small dresser to the parents of a lovely little girl named Hope on Saturday.  She is old enough now to have a grown-up bed and needs a dresser for her clothes.  Her mom said she always buys old furniture because the quality is so much better.  The dresser she bought from me had a serpentine front with four drawers and was very sturdy and quite heavy for such a small dresser.  I had painted it white and decoupaged an ocean scene on the drawer fronts...perfect for a little girl's room.  Knowing that a sweet little girl like Hope was getting my mother's dresser made it much easier to part with it. 

Later in the day my friend, Melva, came by for a visit.  We chatted about my move to Utila, shared a pizza, and then she took my best friend, Oliver, home to live with her and her female cat, Pixie.  The pain I felt was every bit as intense as the pain I felt when my first son died in infancy.  Oliver knew something was up when I packed up his toys and his food & water dishes.  The first attempt at getting him into the cat carrier was a bust.  He's not a good traveler and hates being enclosed in small spaces. 

He flew out of the carrier and bounded up the stairs to hide under the bed.  I followed close behind and, with soothing words, coaxed him out from under the bed and carried him downstairs.  The second attempt was a success, but at the cost of Oliver's fear, discomfort, and most likely a sense of betrayal.  I carried him to Melva's car as he howled and struggled to be free.  Placing him on the front passenger seat, I told him I was so sorry, but that I loved him and knew he would be happy at his new home.  Sobbing, I hugged Melva and thanked her for giving Oliver a loving home.  "I'm sorry, I have to go", I said, then turned and ran to the empty, quiet apartment which has been home for me and Oliver for the past two years.

The tears came swiftly and seemed in no particular hurry to end.  My mind flip-flopped between heartbreak, guilt and sheer loneliness.  I had two glasses of wine to ensure being able to fall asleep quickly, but I awakened often, reaching to feel where Oliver was laying before I rolled over to change position.  Then I would remember that Oliver was no longer with me...no warmth at my side, no soft purring when I would scratch behind his ears, no mewling when he thought it was time for me to get up.  The apartment was too quiet.

The next day was unbearable.  Just thinking about Oliver brought tears to my eyes and a sick, empty feeling would spread across my mid-section.  If I heard birds chirping outside, I immediately looked to see if Oliver was laying in wait by the patio door...his favorite pastime.  Something stirring in the soft breeze coming through the patio door would cause me to turn and look, expecting to see him coming toward me...must be time to sit with Mummy in the chair.

I realized just how much I was going to miss feeling his silky fur, his greeting me at the door when I come home from work, his little hugs and kisses, his understanding of my moods and the way he can see into my soul.  He was the perfect cat for me, and I think I was the perfect human for him.

I know Melva will love him and take wonderful care of him, and I hope he and Pixie become friends and enjoy playing and keeping one another company.  I'm sure once he settles into his new surroundings he will be happy and forget that I betrayed him.  You see, I promised him when I brought him home with me that I would always be there for him.  Of course I had no idea at that time that my life would change so drastically.  I hope he can forgive me.  I hope I can learn to forgive myself.

I know the pain will ease, the tears will one day cease and the sadness will diminish.  I will always be grateful for the two wonderful years Oliver and I shared.  I guess I have to expect that shedding these layers of my life will be challenging.  And when I'm done and arrive at my new life in Utila, I'll be that much lighter and newer and, hopefully, stronger.

It's Never Too Late...

I happened upon a T. S. Eliot quote the other night that I feel is not only meaningful, but quite apropos of my current status: It's never too late to be what you might have been.  That says so much, doesn't it?  I think I will make it my new mantra.  I've always been an island girl at heart, and very soon I will be one in reality.

I sold a lot of small items at the local community garage sale last weekend, and made over $200 to add to my "Utila Fund".  I'm going to need lots of cash when I get there, since a lot of places (maybe most places!) don't take credit/debit cards.  I won't get my pension check or social security until a month after I've arrived, so I'll have to plan on having enough cash with me to get by for two months.  Then, hopefully, there will be no delays in receiving my money(s)...not that I don't have the utmost faith in my government (!?).

A dear friend has kindly offered to give Oliver a loving home.  She has a young female cat and thinks that she (Pixie) and Oliver would become good friends.  She will be picking him up a week from Saturday, May 21.  I will then have the summer to make sure that everything is working out for all involved and, if not, can make other arrangements before moving.  I know she will be a good mom to my sweet Oliver, and I hope that Oliver will adjust quickly and come to love his new owner and new "sister".  I expect to cry myself to sleep that night, without my Oliver to snuggle against the small of my back as I lay in the quiet darkness alone.  I will grieve for a time, but I will be strong in the face of adversity.  I am grateful to have had the love and companionship of this amazing friend for the past two years.

Tomorrow I will post on the bulletin at work my hand-crafted step-back cupboard, the antique desk that I saved from the landfill and transformed into a work of art, and the Singer sewing machine that hasn't been kept very busy of late.  I've had good luck selling things on the bulletin, so I'm hoping my luck will hold.

My new friend on the island, Jan, put the $100 deposit on my apartment for me and, when I asked if I should send her a check, replied, "I'll see you in August and get it from you then."  I'm hoping everyone on the island is as gracious and trusting!

Mother's Day was bittersweet this year, as it was the last Mother's Day I will get to spend with my children.  Next year we will have a "get-together" on the web-cam instead.  Hearing their voices and seeing their sweet faces will have to take the place of feeling their warmth as they wrap their arms around me.  Things will be different, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing.  We'll all adjust to the differences, and life will go on, and it will be good.

Riding the Seesaw of Emotions

Most days I'm so excited and filled with anticipation about my move to Utila.  But then there are days...moments really...when my heart is doing somersaults and tears come all too easily. 

When Oliver...my cat and best friend...turns his head to look at me and places his paw upon my chest as a gesture of love and devotion, I wonder how I can leave him behind.  Intellectually I know why I can't bring him with me, but emotionally it will be one of the hardest things I've ever done to leave him with a new owner. 

You see, I found Oliver quite by accident, following the implosion of my 44-year marriage.  As soon as I spotted him I thought, 'that's my cat', and once we met and sized one another up, I was certain that Oliver and I had known each other "before".  Past lives?  Reincarnation?  I'm not sure.  I just knew that we were spiritually connected.  He saw me through a difficult time and gave me nothing less than his complete love, loyalty and an occasional hairball.  I think I need to find a home for him sooner, rather than later.  If he goes to a new home now, I will have the time to grieve before I move to Utila, and I won't be saying goodbye to all my loved ones at once.

On the "up" note, I'm slowly getting rid of my material possessions.  My bistro set and bar stools are sold, as is my computer/printer, and this weekend is the first (of many, I'm sure!) garage sale, where I hope to unload lots of smaller items that I can certainly do without during the next few months.  I sold the bistro set to a good friend, and we sat on it on my balcony, toasting each other with our glasses of wine, before she took it home with her.

I'm also giving little trinkets to friends as keepsakes.  Good friend, Sue, who collects Boyd's Bears, got the stuffed Boyd's Bear given to me by my friend, Ellen, who has since passed away.  How do you sell something like that at a garage sale, anyhow?  It just wouldn't be right.  So you pass it on to someone who is also near and dear to you, knowing that they will give it the same care that you did.

I'll let you know how I'm feeling after the garage sale, when most of my "stuff" has gone to new homes.

The Selling of a Past Life

Yesterday I began the process of selling my past.  After having a lengthy spiritual conversation with my father (he passed away when I was 19), I posted a few of his WWII collectibles on eBay in hopes of getting a decent price.  I need to fund my move to the island, after all, and I have many vintage items that belonged to my parents which should bring some substantial cash.

Daddy was in the army in WWI and the navy in WWII.  He was a patriotic man, who cried during every televised Boston Red Sox game when the national anthem was played.  Upon returning home from England, where he served as a Storekeeper during WWII, he brought with him two solid brass ashtrays made from artillery shells.  Engraved on the bottom with dates, descriptions and the US Navy seal, Daddy was especially proud of those two treasures.  I have no clear idea what they might be worth, but I know what they're worth to me, and I hope someone will treasure them as both my father and I did. 

When I decided to make this move, I knew it might be difficult to part with a lot of these memories.  For days I tried to steel myself against the impending onslaught of tears I knew would come with each separation.  When friends tell me how courageous I am, that they could never do this, I tell them, "oh, yes you could!".  It's simply preparing yourself mentally...accepting that there will be painful moments...and knowing that the end will justify the means. 

I've been fortunate to have many meaningful pieces of my past with me, but although I must now part with them, the memories themselves will always be a part of me.  I choose to look at the transition as a liberating experience.  I sometimes feel that Americans are a little too fond of shopping and collecting things that fill some void in our lives.  "Things" truly aren't what make us happy.  Giving and receiving love, helping others, the many beauties of nature, family and good friends...these are the things that bring true happiness. 

So I will leave the United States with a suitcase, a carry-on bag and my laptop...stripped of all other material possessions.  My load will be light, and so will my spirit.  I will be filled with excitement and anticipation, eager to experience a new culture and a new environment, ready to make new friends, try new foods.  But I will bring my memories with me, and the love of family and good friends.  I will make a new life, and it will be wonderful.

Remembrances

I've become a sentimentalist over the years.  I have some of my mother's furniture and personal possessions, a plant stand made of Italian mosaic that belonged to my favorite Aunt Alma, a framed photo taken by my deceased brother in Rockport, Massachusetts, the flag which draped my father's coffin...he being a veteran of both WWI and II.  I will pack only my clothes and personal effects when I move to Utila, and I will mail a small box of "remembrances" to myself a couple of weeks before I leave.  I understand, from my friend Jan, that mail from the states takes about two weeks to arrive on Utila!

In that box I will have the needed paperwork for filing income tax, insurance and retirement papers, etc.  I will also pack the wide-bowled silver spoon with which my mother ate her Cream of Wheat every morning for the last forty or so years of her life.  Tarnished and fragile from years of service, it will enable me to have my mother with me in my new home.  Also included will be the wine glass from my daughter, Monice...hand painted with various beach paraphernalia and the words "Life's A Beach".  Since, for me, it will be, how could I possibly leave that behind?

I'm having a friend and co-worker make a carrying case for my laptop and accessories from a U.S. Navy-issue wool blanket that my father brought back from overseas after WWII.  The friend makes wonderful and useful items from felted wool...things such as slippers, mittens, and now a laptop bag.  So I will have a piece of my father with me as well. 

Because of its size, I can't take my Aunt Alma's mosaic plant stand with me, but I can take the sweet little pair of ceramic shoes that belonged to her.  And I'll take the decorative school bus made from a flattened soda (or beer) can and decorated with the little wooden heads of the students in the hand-painted windows...a gift from Ted, a good friend and the talented man who does the body work on the school buses for the Middleton-Cross Plains School District.  It will be a reminder, not only of Ted and his friendship, but also of the eight wonderful years spent at a job I loved...transporting some of the most amazing special needs children I've ever had the good fortune to meet, care for and love.

My very talented son, James, made me so many wonderful gifts over the years.  I will return most of them so that he may share them with his daughter, Ruby Sophia, who will be born in early June.  I will, however, take with me a quirky, primitive looking ceramic mask that should fit in well with "island decor"...very unique, very cool, and made while he was only in elementary school!

My BFF (best friend forever), Marilyn, who I've known since third grade, gave me a small suncatcher when I visited her in Massachusetts last fall.  It's a sunburst in blue and purple...two of my favorite colors...and I will hang it in the window of my apartment in Utila and reminisce on a lifetime of memories with my soul sister.

There are numerous small crafts made for me by my grandchildren...magnets, hanging ornaments...that I will pack in the box.  And I mustn't forget the heart necklace given to me by my grandson, Zach...that adorable child of the heart who came to us from Russia seven years ago.

I will have small but meaningful remembrances of all my loved ones, past and present, with me.  The rest I will sell or give to my children, and I will move...unencumbered...to my new life.  At first I wondered if I would be able to do it, sentimentalist that I am, but the more I pondered the closer I came to the realization that this would be a liberating experience for me!

I'm prepared for missing my family and friends like crazy and, easily prone to tears anyhow, I'm sure more than a few will be shed, both during and after the move.  But this is the age of technology, and they are only as far away as my computer.  I have many friends on Facebook, and we can keep up with one another's activities in that way, as well as with emails.  I'm equipped with webcam and Skype on my laptop, so I can talk to...and see...my family and friends from time to time.  And I know there are many who will visit me on my island paradise...what could possibly be a better vacation place?!  Yes, life can be very, very good...if you're willing to take a chance. 

Making Progress

I guess I worried for nothing.  I will have a passport before my move.  Honduras requires that you have six months REMAINING on your passport before you can enter the country...you don't need to RECEIVE your (new) passport six months prior to entering the country.

I discovered a very cool feature on the Website for the Honduran Embassy in the U.S.  If you click on "Contact Us", you can then have a live chat online with an embassy representative.  I typed out my question and, in a matter of moments, had my answer!  Yulia was very patient with a first-time overseas traveler and quickly put my mind at rest.  The Internet is truly a valuable resource, and I encourage anyone who is contemplating a move (or even a trip) outside the U.S. to take advantage of what the Internet can offer.  Just do a Google search of ANYTHING and you can have your answer in mere moments.

Passport in hand...theoretically...I firmed up plans with The Sandstone Apts. on Utila.  My new email friend, Jan, who moved to Utila from the states seven years ago, had confirmed that The Sandstone would be a good (temporary, at least) option upon my arrival.  A fully furnished one-bedroom apartment, including wifi, cable tv and a/c, right by the ocean and away from the "hustle and bustle of the downtown area", I'm certain that I'll be quite happy there.  Owner, Rita, told me she would hold it for me with a $100 deposit to be returned whenever I leave.

So, my passport is on its way and I have a place to live.  Looks like Utila is quickly becoming a reality!

Today I am off to my lovely daughter, Monice's, where I will have my first class in "Laptop 101".  We baby boomers have enough challenges with your everyday PC, and I'm thinking that learning the ins and outs of laptop use will be similar to learning a foreign language!  Keep in mind, this laptop will be my connection to family and friends.  Not only will I have email and Facebook, but the use of the webcam will allow me to see and talk to those friends who also have it on their computers.  I'm going to look into Skype, and friend, Jan, uses a magic jack on her computer, so we'll see which one I decide on.

As you can probably see by now, there's more to moving out of the country than just getting a passport and making plane reservations!   

Glitches?

Came dangerously close to "panic mode" the other day when...in my naivete...I realized the whole passport experience wasn't going as I thought it should.  Recently the post offices (in Madison/Middleton/Waunakee, Wisconsin anyhow...and, I assume, nationwide) determined that appointments were needed for receiving passport applications.  Since I had read, on official government Websites, that tourists traveling to Honduras are required to have their passport six months prior to travel, I metaphorically grabbed the paper bag needed to keep from hyperventilating.

You see, the whole basis of this move was predicated on my apartment lease being up for renewal at the end of August; my 65th birthday being at the end of August, my license for driving a school bus being up for renewal at the end of August (since I drive a school bus for a living, very important!)...and...six months prior to travel at the end of August...is...the end of February!

My heart sank when the Postmaster told me my application would take four-to-six weeks to process.  I explained my predicament.  "Oh, don't worry", he replied.  "That six-month time frame just means that they want you to have at least six months before your passport expires."  Really?!!  I joyously paid the State Dept. the required $110 and the Post Office their $25 and returned to work.

Before long, however, the nagging doubts crept in once again.  Which "official" rhetoric was correct?  Should I just take the Postmaster's word that I needn't worry?  And if I did that, then found out upon arrival at the airport that I can't enter for at least another month, what then?  I realize I can't rent my apartment in Honduras until I'm sure of an arrival date.  And if I can't leave for Honduras at the end of August, where am I going to live until I can leave?  And what am I going to do for income if everything is delayed for a month or more?

I decide, now that my hands are clammy and my breathing laboured, that I should contact the Honduran Embassy.  I Google it on the computer at work, then click on Contact Us.  Great...everything is in Spanish!  (While Honduras is a Spanish-speaking country, the island of Utila is mainly English-speaking.)  I manage to semi-translate a few things which need to be filled in, such as email address, name and comment, and proceed to transmit my concerns.  I'm hoping to hear back in a timely fashion...preferably by Monday...so I can take any further necessary steps to insure I leave the states at the end of August!

I will only accept this as a minor setback.  I tell myself, 'Things WILL work out...I AM going to Utila at the end of August.'  A positive attitude...right?  Stay tuned!

Moving Forward

What a busy week!  Received my birth certificate in the mail, filled out my application for a passport, and will get the picture taken at Walgreen's today, then bring it all to the Post Office sometime during the work week. 

A word of advice to those of you planning a trip or move out of the country:  check with the embassy of the country to which you are traveling for passport requirements.  Everything I had read maintained that I would need a return ticket to the states.  However, upon checking with the Honduran embassy, I was assured that I could renew my stamp each month for 3 months (visas are not required in Honduras), then either leave the country for a few days and return or pay an extra $100 to stay.  This is if you are entering the country as a tourist.  If you enter as a resident, or apply for residency after arriving, the requirements are different.  But don't believe everything you read...check with the country's embassy to get the facts 

I emailed my new friend, Mark (Webmaster of official Utila Website), with more questions.  He put me in touch with an ex-patriot from New York who has lived on Utila for 7 years...Jan.  She called me last night and answered many of my questions, and will call again today for more conversation.  She sounds like a delightful person, and I'm looking forward to already having some friends when I move to Utila.

I think I have an apartment lined up.  Emailed Rita, owner of the Sandstone Apts. regarding availability.  She has a lovely one-bedroom with hardwood floors, cable tv, A/C, wifi, completely furnished and right by the ocean for only $450/month!  I can fall asleep to the sound of the waves every night.  If this is a dream, please don't wake me up!

Wisconsin is having more than its share of political woes right now.  As an employee of the Middleton-Cross Plains School District, I have not been to work since last Wed.  Teachers are protesting our new governor's bill which would strip them of their collective bargaining rights.  As a school bus driver, I am non-union, but I defend the stand taken by the teacher's because this is (supposed to be) a country founded on people's rights.  None of us should stand by while our rights are threatened, even if we don't agree with them.  This is one of the reasons I am anxious to move to Utila.  America is not the country it was when I was growing up in the 50's & 60's...the political climate is almost intolerable, and the sense of entitlement embraced by the American people is deplorable.  Whatever happened to common courtesy, living within one's means, and raising one's own children?

I'm hoping the island will allow for a more stress-free life...at least one in which I won't have to be embroiled in political unrest.  I will finally have the time to sit at my laptop and write.  It might even be nice if I could sell a few articles to travel magazines, or get a novel or two published perhaps.  But even if the writing is only for me (and posterity!) it will be a welcome change. 

There is also some volunteer work I can be involved in...one having to do with iguanas (or wishy willies as they call them) and the other with whale sharks.  Utila is surrounded by the world's second largest barrier reef, and we all know the damage being done to the coral reefs.  Maybe I can learn to dive (the world's cheapest diving is available on Utila) and somehow do my part in helping to preserve this wonderous reef.

So many challenges await!

Realizing the Dream

I would not have thought, at any point during my adult life, that I would be planning my retirement to a tropical island.  And yet, here I am!

As a young girl I breathed the salt air, felt the warm sand tickling my toes as I ran into the foamy swells which lapped the eastern seaboard of Massachusetts.  I believed then that the dream of island living was possible.  And then life happened.

Fast forward to marriage at a very young age, children, creating a nest for the family, the usual...and unusual...ups and downs we all face in our lives.  And now, here I sit, divorced, alone (but never lonely...I only felt loneliness during my marriage), working at a job both rewarding and nonsustaining, and anticipating an end-chapter of struggle, uncertainty and weariness of both body and spirit.

Serendipity arrived on the Welcome mat outside the door of my apartment in the form of the Sunday Wisconsin State Journal.  There in the travel section of the paper was an article on Utila, a 25-square-mile island off the coast of Honduras in South America.  As I read about this jewel of the Caribbean, I became that young girl once again, who dreamed of someday living on an island.  And so began my awakening.

In the days that followed, I found myself re-reading that newspaper article many times over.  I visited the official Utila Website, http://www.aboututila.com/, and literally engulfed myself in Utila lore.  I read Utila blogs, checked out books on Utila from the library, emailed the Webmaster of the Utila Website with questions about life on Utila.

I discovered that there are many retirees who live in South American countries because you can live very well there on very little.  And suddenly the realization came to me...that I could live on Utila...I could have my island dream!  I could actually afford to retire, if I did so on Utila, whereas I would have to work until the day my lifeless body is taken away if I stay in the United States.

I made no reckless decisions.  Instead, I conducted a very thorough investigation of my finances, made countless lists of pros and cons, talked at great length with my children, friends and coworkers.  Once I knew the amount I could collect from Social Security, the sum of my retirement, when my Roth IRA would come due, I knew the move was doable.  I looked into passport requirements, plane fares, chose a time frame and voila!  On Aug. 21 I will be 65 years old and I will retire.  I will unburden myself of all material possessions, pack a suitcase filled with shorts, tank tops and sunscreen, and fly off to my island in the sun.  Suddenly that end-chapter looks much more promising.

I'll continue to post the steps I take which will get me to Utila.  Perhaps it will benefit some of you who may have unfulfilled dreams of your own.  And while I'm living my dream, I'll also keep you posted on my new life and the adventures I encounter on Utila.