Squirrels Don't Do That
Connie's Log 4, September 2002 - WEDNESDAY
We collected the last of the boxes we shipped from the mail center. Now what seemed like just a few belongings when we packed are scattered everywhere in our little studio apartment. The weather is very warm, and I feel as though I've come home. I love it. Our apartment isn't air conditioned and I couldn't be happier. Tiny as it is, there are three sliding doors (two quite large) and a cool breeze is the norm. Unfortunately, whenever the breeze slows or stops, it's too warm for Brian who doesn't sleep easily. Myself, I sleep like an iguana on a cool branch. Yes, iguana, Seth and I gape at the large iguanas that roam everywhere like squirrels back on Rancho Del Fuego. As you may know, they average over two feet in length, and yesterday we saw one, I swear this is so, spit from it's nose. I can't begin to imagine the need for this trait to evolve. There has to be some effect other than to cause homo sapiens to turn to one another in surprise and disbelieve and chorus "Ewww". Squirrels don't do that.
There are three other units in our hillside building, and we have to remember that with no a/c and all the windows open we hear one another very well. Our immediate neighbor is a telephone and answering machine. They share an apartment with an effervescently friendly woman named Diane, but Dianne isn't around much, and we mostly hear the telephone ringing followed by a loud beep every 13 seconds (I counted) from the answering machine. This place is the acoustic antithesis of Rancho, it's noisy. Besides the ever-beeping neighbor, ferry horns are always blasting, and their engines persistently droning, dogs bark, cars honk, squeal, and blare music; and we're still trying to identify the source of caustic screeching of a biological nature. My guess is iguanas eating cats, but it may be a bird of some kind.
The driveway here is something to fear. We have an incredible view of the marina, and St. John beyond, but at a cost of a steep, narrow, switchback road that ends in a narrow 80' driveway that must be backed into or out of, unless you have the courage and patience to wiggle back and forth in a small area to turn around.
Our car is just out of sight tucked into
it's corner on the right side of the driveway.
St. Thomas is...well, it's filthy. I'm told that some progress has been made toward cleaning up, but I have to take that at face value. There are overflowing dumpsters, abandoned cars (It's my guess they fell off steep hillside roads), ancient construction debris, dilapidated houses, fences of rusted corrugated metal, and trash everywhere. Well, no, not everywhere, the west side isn't as bad, and there are oases (sp?) of cleanliness dotting the island, usually resorts, occasionally a strip of shops. The Red Hook area, and the marina where we plan to dock is quite nice: populated by large, clean vessels, and surrounded by pleasant restaurants and businesses.
Brian and I are having a terrific time. We need to get busy on our business, which we are naming Green Flash Networks, and we both have sleepless hours wondering if we're fools to be here, but mostly we're enjoying each hour. We've met a number of people who, like us, simply decided to come here to live, and I think we'll be able to make friends.