a raindrop in the ocean

Tomorrow is save the puppies day.

So many dogs here are wild, and the ones that have a family generally aren't spayed and neutered.

This means, many puppies.

Here, people think the only solution is to drop them off in the wilderness, allowing them to die.

Sometimes, they're nicer and kill the puppies quickly so they don't suffer by starvation.

Well, one of the people we have painting Casa Paraíso has 5 puppies.

We can't take one of them, as we have already agreed to take one that is currently in another dog's womb.

Taking one more would put us over the edge with insanity.

6 Bathroom Buddies are enough.

Seriously.

Anyway, when our great painter/Spanish tutor came to work at the house today, he said he and his cousin were going to bring the dogs into the wilderness to let them die, because they can't keep them.

I begged them, "Please, don't do this today.  Tomorrow I will bring them to the AAAS and surrender them."  I explained he'd have to surrender the mother as well for the babies' sakes.

He agreed to the terms.

I know full well that even though I can't do this with every single cat and dog in the country, at least I can do it for one litter.

Sometimes, I just can't handle all this.

The other day, I was frantic when I saw a girl throw a dog into the water with all her force.

I'm not talking play.  I mean it looked like Serena Williams serving in a tennis match.

The rip tide here on our side of the island can drown a human, never mind a small size dog.

Didn't matter to her.

Every time the dog would run back out of the waves, she would pick her up (usually by the collar, choking it) and with every bit of her strength, she would throw it into the ocean one more time.

The dog would eventually surface, gasping for air, ears back and whites of her eyes showing.

This is how she was 'washing' her dog.

I expected her to stop after the 2nd time, but upon the 3rd, I ran to her, screaming in my broken Spanish, "Please stop!  Look at your dog!  She's shaking because she's afraid to drown!  You will kill your dog!"

Then to add an empty threat to the monologue, hoping she wouldn't take me up on it, I added, "If you don't want that dog, I'll take her.  She needs love.  You're going to kill her."

The girl simply apologized to me as if it was only a matter of my problem being sensitive, not having any regard for the animal and what she was doing to it.

Everyone else who watched her do this thought it was normal.

They laughed at me and my panic.

This is one of the hardest things about living here in the Dominican Republic.

The lack of respect for animals.

Then there's road kill.

There are no predators here, so when there's a dead dog at the side of the road, it sits in the sun until it rots.

You see road kill at least once every 2 days.

Then?

You see the remains for a good week after, and being that there is only one road you can travel, you are forced to see it time and again.

The last remains we saw were there for so long that after a while it was completely unrecognizable as a dog.

How does an animal lover get past this?

You don't, I guess.

I suppose all I can do is bring those 5 adorable puppies in and surrender them and the mother, in hopes that they will all keep their lives and find a family.

Tomorrow, we save 5 puppies and a mother.

It's like a rain drop in the ocean compared to all the other that are dying.

i accept what i can not change

here we go!

There's a new round of kids coming in to Dream Project.

Tiny, pumped for the challenge, sweet kids.

They're going to audition for the music program this week.  It's so exciting for them, as much as it is for me.

I love teaching little ones from day one.  It's makes me tingle with happiness when I see their eyes light up after they realize they've played their first song.

It's akin to how I'm feeling about playing my first gig in Spanish this week.

It was kinda sprung on me, but Tuesday I get to showcase some of the songs I've been working so hard on.

It's a gastropub called, 'Voodoo Lounge'.  My kinda place.

It's got comfy couches where you can really sink into the cushions to listen to live music.  You just have to try to ignore the mosquitos who have built condos under the cushions just waiting for a ripe ass to bite.

MusicMan and I are going to play a few songs along with another teacher from the Bachata program at Dream Project.

However, the timing is a bit off.  I was going to put music on the back burner for a month, because we're quite busy prepping the house for sale.

Yes, we're selling Casa Paraíso, for so many reasons.

We love this house, but since the day we've moved in, it has been all about the house.

Repairs, workers, commotion.

We were looking to come here to rest from working so hard for 4 years after the motorcycle accident.  Instead, we've spent the entire year focusing on this house.

It's beautiful down here on the ocean, but to every good there is a balance of bad.

Rust.

It's killing everything, including this house, and we just can't afford the upkeep.

Plus, I'll tell you, I will be so relaxed when I'm not dodging the chorus of children screaming my name at the gate all day, every day.

I can't even enjoy my yard, because the children think that once I'm out there, I'm their property.

"Gringa!  Open the gate!"

"No, my friends, the gate is open on Saturdays."

Except today, when I found I woke in the middle of the night to feeling quite under the weather.  I haven't slept properly in days and it's not allowing for a healthy immune system.

So, I put a sign up saying, "No class today, I'm sick.  Sorry."

Which prompted every child to come to the gate screaming my name to try to get me to come out.

I tried to ignore them and went to find some more sleep, when I was awoken by The Carpenter who didn't tell me he wanted to work on Saturday as well.

I need peace.  I need sleep.

I also look forward to not having Housemaid.

I'm not into people in my house every day, and stopping by unannounced.  I'd rather clean on my own.

You see, it's kinda hot here and in order to exercise, I have to do it in the nude as clothes really get in the way when you're sweating so much.

So, I have to always be on the lookout for Housemaid letting herself in our house for whatever reason, whenever she chooses.

Unfortunately, it's not like back home, where people usually call before dropping by.  Most people here can't afford the phone call, so they just show up.

That whole Seinfeld thing where people just drop by and expect you to be decent and available?  I'm not into it.

I remember when I was younger, I wished people would just drop by, because then it meant I was loved.

Now?  If you love me, you'll understand that I require a lot of alone time.

Furthermore, I don't like being caught in the nude.

The constant wave of people in my house is not my kinda thing.

These are just two of the reasons for selling Casa Paraíso.

It's been lovely.

Alas, it's time to move away from the cows and closer to the city.

And now, let the house insanity begin!

i live in peace

Peeping Juan is back.

While The Guard was here, he noticed Peeping Juan staring in on our yard.

Normally, I would consider Dominican Daddy to be a sweet man, incapable of intimidating anyone.

With the exception of kids in the village that is.  Oh, but how they listen to him.

So, while he was looking at Peeping Juan staring into our yard, he gave the man the best stink eye I've seen in a while.

I was shocked.

Not just stink eye.

'Staring him down' stink eye.

'Barely blinking' stink eye.

That Peeping Juan never looked in our yard again.

That is of course, until he figured out we don't have The Guard anymore, and while Papi and I were in the pool, he realized I was topless.

We sorta thought we were free of the bastard, so we tried to enjoy our freedom.

I had wrapped my leg in plastic bags, put it up on the ledge and allowed the rest of myself to finally melt into the cool water, reclined on our seating area with my head resting poolside.

It was absolutely lovely.

I thought maybe I could do this more often.  Just have many plastic bags ready.

When Papi told me we had an issue, I damn near flipped out.

Papi said, "Don't freak out.  He has a gun."

I decided, "Fine.  Then I'll chop my mother fucking coconuts with my mother fucking machete and show him I'm capable of chopping his mother fucking dick off if he tried to come near me."

Off I crutched to my coconut chopping area, angrier than a stick poked hornets nest.

Every chop I did I said something that sounded good with exertion.

Didn't matter if it was in English.

"Can you!  Get me!  The!  Ant!  Killer!!!!"

There were ants everywhere.

It didn't matter.  He doesn't speak English.

For all he knows, my anger was saying, "I will!  Chop your!  Dick!  Right!  Off!"

It was my intention anyway.

Even though I was on crutches with a cast, I thought, if this is how I can yield this right now, give me a week, bitch.

You will not be messing with me.

He caught me on a Hurricane Andréa day.

I took all my anger out on that coconut, and the best part was, when I was finished, I had some lovely coconut water to enjoy from my labours.

I imagined myself as a cannibal serial killer, drinking his fucking blood.

I watched his perch as I drank the beautiful healing water.

I'm so angry now about this prick.

When the new people move in, I will tell them what their guard does and request they find someone who isn't a creep.

The new neighbour will understand.  He's an Canadian ex cop.

He won't want a person staring into someone's yard like a predator on his dime.

Anyway, I'm feeling much better now.

Mother nature gave me a nice fucking visit, so now I am not an old bag.  Yet I'm still cussing out my uterus for doing the only fucking thing it knows how.

I stopped eating the wheat so my brain is much more manageable.

I have accepted this fucking cast and crutches and am trying to tough out the pain like I did with my bitch of a back for 4+ years until we finally got here to Casa Paraíso.

I managed to play my piano yesterday and just sucked up the pain in order to give my heart some well needed practise, learning the new song MusicMan and I are working on: Jesse & Joy - ¡Corre!

And I showed myself I can still cut a fucking coconut despite my current situation.

Guess what tomorrow's task is?

Coconuts galore!

i am badass

what to do?

All I want to do is sleep.

Pain meds will do that to you.

However, Housemaid has other plans for me.

After it took ALL DAY just to get downstairs, make breakfast, pay a bill and buy more pain meds, I told her, "I think I'm staying bed for a few days."

My intention was that I would just stay in bed until Papi came home.

She was shocked and said, "No!  Andréa!  My friend invited us to a party!  You HAVE to go!"

I'm not too good at these crutches.

My balance is bad enough with 2 legs.

I've tried to shower, but having that one leg out of the shower doesn't make for a completely clean body.

I feel like a sticky mess, and now I'm supposed to look pretty for a party?

Plus, I'm sweating so much from working these aluminum gizmos.

At least I got a lot of Spanish studying accomplished over the last few days.

I really was meant to slow down.

When I'm better though, I need to work hard.

We just figured out how much we owe for all the bills we incurred from Casa Paraíso, and damn, it's NOT good.

We're going to be living QUITE frugally for quite a while.

No problem.

Prince Papi will have a crash course in how it was for me for all those years when I lived EastSide.

I had MANY years of practise, and here, it's just part of life.

Most people live dangerously on the edge, yet still have enough money for beer.

I can get a sugary treat for 10 pesos when I'm jonesin' for it.

Or make a chocolate bar last 6 days by only having one chunk a day.

Then Papi told me that the wife of the creep has begged me to come back to teaching.

Part of me wants to go under the conditions that he's not there.

However, no money in the world can make up for the possibility that something could happen with this guy.

Yeah, I need the money, but is there a chance that I could get raped for teaching?

Or suffer more disgusting comments that he somehow thinks are appropriate?

Wife says he would never hurt anyone.  Of course she says that.

All I know is, I responded to the wife and explained that I would not be in a safe environment, but she asked if I could teach her child in a different house.  Like maybe a neighbour's house.

What if the creep sees me?

Do I continue, because I need the money, and trust that he will leave me alone if he sees me?

Or do I continue on, looking for other students, eating less chocolate?

Would I be doing the wrong thing by going against my word of keeping myself safe?

Or would I be empowering myself by attaining an income under my terms?

All I know is, the creep never told her what it was he did.

She said he mentioned 'something about my skirt flitting up with the wind'.

Right.

Dude.

You left out the part about your pecker standing at attention, pointing to it and telling me that was 'my fault'.

What to do?

I could really use the money.

i know my inner self will guide me to the right decision

Garage Band

... your sunday sillies ...

Well, it wasn't the throngs of children I thought it would be.

No, it was quite a bit different than how I had it pictured in my mind.

I waited patiently, sitting on my little foot stool, outside Casa Paraíso.

In hand, I had my Sharpie Pen drawings of the first two notes I'd teach them, along with the list of names I had compiled of all those interested.

Nobody came.

Eventually, I saw one child nearing my direction.

Ah!  Dominican Time!  I see!

But alas, he was only going to watch them build the house next door.

So, I decided to take a stroll through the village.

Once more, I felt like the pied piper.

Not to mention, a little like the town cryer, "It's music day!  Do you want to sing with me?"

All I need is a solid brass hand bell to ring it on Saturdays when it's time to start!

One by one they'd follow, and when I was done, that list of 40 children was reduced to about 12.

No problem!  I'm good with that!

We all scampered to the beach in front of our house, and the children automatically planted themselves firmly on a log.

One problem: I had to yell above the waves!

By the time we were done, my voice was so weak, it sounded like it used to after an ear damaging concert when I was a teen.

No, this is not going to work.

I can't have them in my yard, because of the danger of the pool and puppies.

My foresight was right in that they'd be like Mexican jumping beans.  It's hard to teach, PLUS keep an eye on these little critters.

I don't need someone drowning in the pool or harassing a dog so much that they get bit.

So, next week, we're in the garage!  Our new digs!  The Garage Band.

No yelling, shelter from rain and safety from The Donkey who is sure to bowl over anyone who is close to the height of my hips.

Not to mention, we'll have the acoustics of an A-Frame room!

Furthermore, I won't have to watch them pee on our property.

I'm not kidding.

Middle of the lesson, they had to pee, and one by one they walked to the corner of our lot and peed on our wall right in front of me.

I think they had a bit too much fun doing this.

Papi was a bit appalled when I laughed about it, but I assured him, "Honey, they pee on our wall anyway, so it's nothing new.  The ocean is their washroom."

I can't tell you how many human feces we've seen along the shoreline.

Anyway, there are always a few trouble makers, but I'll tell you, if I'm not getting paid to teach, then I won't have them in my class.

I gave one a strict warning with the first set of 'rules', "You're here to sing.  If you don't want to sing, you go to your house.  I've told you twice, third time you go."

My Spanish was sufficient enough to get the point across, so he adhered to my wishes, however, I'm pretty sure I'll be learning his name first.

All in all, it was a fun 30 minutes and they learned 3 notes, 2 beats and a chorus of the song.

Afterward, one of the mothers, seeing that I was teaching children for free, took it upon herself to announce that she is Christian.

I suppose because it's something some people with religion do; help the children with no pay.

I told her, "I'm Jewish."

She touched my arm as if I needed consoling, and said, "Oh, that's OK.  You're still doing it for the kids."

Well!

I'm really glad that's 'OK' and that I have your approval!

She told me her son plays the piano at his school, so it looks like I have the beginning of the band I need!

Slowly but surely, we'll make it.

And I'm positive that more will join us next week.

I need that bell.

i believe in my ability to change the world on a small scale with the work i do

home

... your sunday sillies ...

I had felt it the day before.

Papi had written about it on a Facebook status last night, and I had to smile that we both felt it only a day apart.

We feel like we're home.

It only took 5 months.

I'm pretty sure the dogs have something to do with it.  Dogs make any place home.

However, I know that it is mostly the fact that there are no workers here in our yard.

It's OUR yard now.

I can go into the new casita and use it as an exercise room without the worry of men looking at me.

We can run to the gate in our scivvies in hopes of catching the kite surfers on film, as they perform for all the people along the shore, flipping over those waves like an insignificant speed bump in the road.

They play with their air time, landing their boards back down to the high seas, as if to say, "C'mon!  Try this!  You can do it!  It's really easy!"

I can hear the waves all day, instead of the sound of saws, hammers and silly songs by the men that kept me laughing, even though they probably didn't know I giggled.

The first day without the workers, I heard birds.

Papi and I had never heard birds.  We thought that perhaps there weren't any around this area, because we were so close to the ocean.

I thought that maybe it was because they were all at the resorts, zooming in when people aren't looking at their plate, nabbing some potato and zipping off again before the unsuspecting diner even knew.

No, it was the fact that we couldn't hear them over the din of construction.

The flit about, singing to one another in hopes that one of them will find the fruit that is ripe enough to share.

Hopefully, that fruit is hidden, or the people in the village will throw rocks at them to stop them from eating their food.

We know how it works here.

People are desperate, and you can't hold that against them.  They just need to feed their families.

But we can hear the birds now.

My veggie garden is growing.

In a few months, I'll have my first crop of home grown food.

My own food, to eat in this house that is finally ours.

As much as it has cost us all of our savings, it's ours.

As much as it still needs work, and the work seems that it will be never ending, that work is ours.

As much as the puppies rip up and destroy everything in the yard, it's our yard to repair.

As much as the pool needs drudging tending to 7 days a week, that water that is slowly getting clean enough for me to swim in again, is ours.

Ours to share with our new friends, like The Carpenter, Our Fave's Mom and family, and countless others that we know enough to trust to let into our home.

We walk the dogs along the beach now that they are trained enough for recall and most of the shots are up to date.

The coastline is not ours, we just borrow it when the ocean isn't busy with it.

That vast blue is our neighbour, and we must respect her.

We visit her when she looks like she is rested enough to have uninvited guests, which isn't very often.

She has a lot of work to do.

Don't get in her way or she'll pull you into an area that will swallow you whole.

She has a temper, but she is a good, clean neighbour.

Unlike my kitchen.

It occurred to me upon editing the latest YouTube show, that all you ever see is my dirty kitchen.  I guess that's because all I'm ever doing is cooking food.

In OUR kitchen.

In OUR house.

It's ours.

We're finally in Casa Paraíso.

We're home.

i love myself totally in the now

well, we tried ...

We had a full day off.

Both of us were wiped and wasted, but we had a day to be alone.  We couldn't really go anywhere to do errands, because we have a spare tire on that should be used sparingly until we get a new one today.

At first, I thought our day off would be spent sleeping.  I know that's really what I wanted.  You know when I'm eating chocolate at noon, that all I plan on doing is lying around.

But the puppies were being MORE than rambunctious, so we decided to try them out at the beach.

We haven't up until now, because there needed to be some training in place first, and there hasn't been any 'time' to get them out to the water.

The Donkey and Pathetic Puppy don't have all their shots, but we had to do it anyway.  They were using us as launching pads to attack one another in what seemed like their version of rock star body surfing in a mosh pit.

The waves looked pretty tame compared to most days.  We decided to give them a whirl.  I guess it's true that in May the water calms a bit.

What we realized, is only one of us can go in at a time, because the puppies were all over the map.

I thought they were going to run next door to Haiti, so Papi watched out for them to begin with, walking them further down the beach to tire them out.

I went in the water.  The sand in front of our home is amazing!  No rocks at all!  A couple of little dips in the earth that had me losing my already fragile balance, but nothing major.

Out I went allowing every crash of waves to body slam me, occasionally removing my bikini bra.

Arms raised in a vee, I welcomed the power of the water, and giggled with glee every time one would make an attempt to throw me over.

One did.  The undertow pulled me down before the wave smashed me into the sand, turning me over a few times.

... just roll with it ...

That was a little scary, as I concurred with the vast ocean, "OK, point taken.  That is as far as I go."

I kept it to thigh level from that point on, especially because The Donkey didn't like it that I was in the water.

She didn't want to stick with the pack.  She was too afraid that I was going to die.

She whimpered and cried, swimming out to 'save' me, but it was her I had to be careful of with those undertows.

Papi came back and it was my turn to watch the dogs and allow him his water time.

Kids came to watch us play, so I put the dogs back in the yard because of their limited training.  They still jump and some of those kids are tiny.

Papi and I enjoyed the ocean 'alone', even though people watched us from the shore.

We were together.

Nobody else but waves, because if you talk to anyone in our village, they'll tell you it's MUCH too dangerous and nobody ever goes in the water.

We were playing like children, body surfing the crests, and when there was a calm spurt between the pinnacles of surging water, "Quick!  Float on your back!!"

We decided we wanted some solitude at the house, so I made a sign out of wood that said in Spanish, "Please, do not bother us, thank you."

It didn't work.  Nobody cares.  It's not like that in our village, as boundaries are constantly crossed and people just come on in as they please.  When the door is locked, children run to our beach gate and yell my name, or just stare until I notice them, manipulating me into talking to them.

I was grateful for the gift of fruit The Carpenter brought by, and he felt bad that he didn't see the sign first.  He had called my phone to say he was at our house, then came to the door afterward and apologized upon seeing my wooden appeal.

Then, as Our Favourite came to the gate yelling, I tried to tell him that we wanted alone time.  That we would see our friends tomorrow.

It didn't work.  He came back 4 times and the 4th time it was the whole family including the Little Angel.

I went to our front door, and lovingly as possible, explained that we have people here every day and we just need a day to ourselves.

We were only asking for one day, but the look on their faces was horrifying and I'll have guilt over it for all my days, as I've never set a boundary like that with anyone here.

In 4 months, we haven't had that time alone at our home, but it still felt horrible to ask for one day to ourselves, and really, we didn't get what we asked for anyway.

I suppose if we want true alone time, it will have to be done away from Casa Paraíso, or we'll just have to go play in the waves.

It was easier back home to be in solitude, but still, we're looking for paradise more and more within ourselves and not in our abode of beauty.

Still, we had our day at the beach.

i give up the right to criticize myself

new world

2 beds.

That's all they have in the emergency room in the city of Gaspar Hernández that our village borders.

All the new mothers with their babies are lined up for their immunization, and when they're done with immunization, everyone waits in the hallway with about 40 other new mothers.

Everyone thought the baby was mine, but I was only there to be part of the Little Angel's very first immunization.

They all laugh when I tell them I'm the godmother.

I suppose it's just a novelty to most to have a gringa for a godmother.

But the Little Angel is quite comfortable with me, and Our Favourite keeps offering for us to take him home for good.  Make him OUR baby.

I tell him, "I want to!  But your dad needs him."  Papa is VERY proud of his boy.

2 pediatric doctors tag team with all the mothers who need them.

There are signs everywhere that say to wash your hands with soap and water to ward off disease, but obviously that only applies to your own home, because there is no soap with which to do so in the hospital.

Newborns are everywhere, and dirty hands are touching them.

Not that we have it much better here at Casa Paraíso.  We have soap, yes, but no water.  However, we have electricity.  It seems we get a choice of one or the other.

Today, I'll be the smelly gringa who tries to cover up my BO with more pit shit.

I've given up on trying to feel fresh and pretty.  I'll leave that up to all the other lovely ladies here.

I might as well become a hippy.  My hair is definitely long enough now.

I just tie it back all the time, or up in some kinda do with my hair rags.  What's the point if I can't shower?

Anyway, Our Fave's Mom is in Gaspar Hernández with her sister who cares for them with all the love of the mother herself.

She's a great help.

They're grateful when I come, because they get a break and pass the Little Angel off to me.

I fawn over him as they clean and giggle at me speaking to him in English.  Baby doesn't care.  He can't understand Spanish either, so I'm good.

The people in the tiny little dwellings where Our Fave's Mom is staying are starting to get to know me and vice versa.

A few of them make sure I'm safe.  They watch over me as I walk, talk between people for me and surround me with their presence.

When they're not there, I have to say, it's like putting a young, pretty, naive girl in the pit with a gaggle of construction workers back home.

The leers, ogling, cat calling, attention sucking sounds and words I don't have to understand to know what they mean, really make me MUCH more than uncomfortable.

I know how to handle those creeps back home now, as I'm not the spring chicken I used to be, not to mention, not being the spring chicken, they leave me alone now.

There are good things to be said about aging for this femme ridden with P.T.S.D.

Still, I have visions of the poor woman who died from a gang rape in India.

I try my best to put on the 'don't fuck with me' face, but just like my intuition doesn't work here, neither does my Pissy Face.

I keep my stun gun in my purse.  I don't carry any cash.  I dress down.

It's a new world, and it's not MY world.

It's not the same when Papi is with me.  The men don't bother me as overtly.  But today was too early for mi esposo to play The Godfather.

It's a world that I have to adapt to, learn how to survive and most definitely, seek out the better hospitals.

No matter how bad off I am, I won't be visiting the one in Gaspar Hernández.

No toilet paper or soap, and only two beds with every sick person in the city lined up against the wall.

Nope.

I come home and clean myself pronto after a visit to that building.  Today, with water we bought from the local store.

New world, new dangers.

New life.

i maintain my self-confidence at all times in all places

change.

There's a chorus of dogs out there.

Dogs on the beach.  Dogs in my yard.  Dogs in the hood.  All of them barking at the same time.

To me, it's a beautiful sound.  Perhaps to others, it's not quite how they would choose to have their sound space invaded.

The Donkey is swimming in the pool, so the iron gate is firmly affixed, keeping her from bounding in and flailing her body around the kitchen spreading water everywhere.

Problem is, Pathetic Puppy is getting too big to fit through the spaces, but when that iron gate is closed, she keeps trying.

I envision the day she will be stuck in the gate and we'll be left trying to figure out how to get her out of the mess.

However, she is the most horrible puppy on the planet and will inevitably try again.

Oh, what trouble she is, as are the workers.

I am grateful that Dominican Daddy is here to tend to the garden, as they've started on the last phase of the renos.

We need a proper carport to protect the vehicle from the ocean air, eroding the car faster than our window hinges, and we need the casita to give us a space for something, anything.  Right now it's useless, as it only holds animal cages, drying used ziplock bags and suitcases.

Anyway, both of these spaces are where all my fruit trees are.

I'm so terrified that the workers will destroy everything.

The construction workers here are very much like those at home, and, I'm assuming, like those around the world.

Why are construction workers so damn destructive?  They come in like a tsunami, and anything in their path is wiped out.

They don't care about the plants, as they toss their tools, unnecessary wood, concrete and nails into them, not to mention, just trod upon then when they need.

Why?  What is this phenomenon of construction workers?

They're so good at building, but do they need the balance of destruction to keep them feeling symmetry?

If you're reading this and you're a construction worker, maybe you could enlighten me.

Maybe I'll ask my baby sister's husband as well.

Anyway, Dominican Daddy is trying to move 6 trees fast enough for these folks not to destroy them.

My most prized possession?  My mango tree.

I see new buds!!!!!  I just got her happy and healthy and she's going to have to move again.  Poor soul.

I hope this doesn't destroy my option for mangos in the fall.  After a 2nd move like this, I may have to wait until next season.

But you know what?  Trees are not the only ones who don't like change; neither do we humans.

After crying on my Plumber Friend's shoulder yesterday, I had enough Spanish to adequately talk out my issues, even if it was part speaking, part thinking.

Later, talking it out with my Eternal Friend on our quick computer texts, she was able to allow me to talk it out to pinpoint how I need to conquer these drastic ups and downs of emotions of this grand move and gargantuan changes.

When I was in Vancouver, I knew how to make myself happy; go for coffee with a friend, hop on over to the gym, grab some really healthy comfort food, find someone spiritual to lead me, or make some music.

The list goes on, but I don't have all those options here.  I'm very limited.  So I need to change what makes me happy.  I have to find new ways to enjoy my life.

There is good out there, we just have to have enough time to find it, then enjoy it.

We found the first thing; a once a week trip to Sosúa Beach.

We're depressed until we leave the house.

Once we're out of the house, we stop fighting, we start smiling and our negativity seems lighter.

I truly hope that one day it will be the other way around.

Maybe, one day, coming home will bring us happiness and we won't want to run.

Speaking of running, workers are calling.

And off I go.

hardship helps me grow into a stronger person

Gratitude List, Day 9/10
1. I am grateful for electricity so I can have internet to talk to friends.
2. I am grateful for water, so I can be clean and healthy.
3. I am grateful for the puppies to make me laugh.
4. I am grateful for patience for the puppies.
5. I am grateful for the good people here who listen to my problems, when they already have their own.
6. I am grateful for the support of friends who have done what I'm doing.
7. I am grateful for my beautiful home.
8. I am grateful for fruit trees to distract me with their beauty.
9. I am grateful for this gratitude list to help me through the bumps.
10. I am grateful for my stubborn persistence to make myself happy.

looking at the good

Sunday Sillies:

The good news is, I found the Sosua Synagogue!!!

The bad news is, they don't have a rabbi, so no services.  I've written back home to Rabbi Laura to ask if she ever found the person who could teach me from afar.

Any rabbis out there wanna live in paradise?

There are places you can move into that are ready made, no problems, and you don't need a gazillion dollars like we need to fix Casa Paraíso.

This house is a money pit.

When you live on the ocean, rust never sleeps.

Just as you think you've finished, there's always something more.

This morning, I happily opened a window to let in the cool breeze from the ocean, only to watch the bracket fall from it's wood to the floor.

Well, at least we got the clean water now.

I had the world's most beautiful shower last night.

It's not crystal clear and super clean like in Canada, but it no longer smells like I'm showering in farts.

Tomorrow, our roof gets started and within a week I won't be dodging monsoon showers in our bedroom.

Tuesday, our bed mattress gets here, which means Papi and I will sleep in the same bed, sprawled out and definitely starfished amongst various animals who are allowed to be there.

100%, The Donkey is not invited, even though she thinks she's one of the little dogs, and the littlest ones think they're as big as her.

Everyone is equal when they're a dog.

I wish they would treat cats in the same light.

I'm a little worried about Old Ghost Face, as she clamped her mouth down upon The Mrs. the other day.

The Mrs. hasn't come out of the closet since, unless the bedroom door is closed and she feels safe.

Old Ghost Face seems to be stalking The Bastard Prince as well, and I have to give her a stern talking to every time.

It's hard to do with an abused animal, because one simple, strong, "No!" and she cowers like we're going to beat her.

At least now she understands her name, so I can simply say it with that slow, man-like, authoritative voice and she walks slowly away from the cats.

I believe she's starting to understand that we're not going to lay a hand on her, unless it's to give her love.

I'm relieved that nobody seems to be bothering Psycho Kitty.

I suppose it's because they all know he's not a threat, because he's dying.

I was worried that because he was weak, the others would try to put him down the way they would in the wild.

So far, everyone just leaves him alone.

The drugs are working SO GOOD!!!

He is cuddling like crazy, as I try my best to hold my breath from the stench of a smell of a dying animal.

I am getting used to it, because I'm so grateful to have him act like he did before.

Up on the counters!!!

He's even ass up in the sink, looking for remainders of human food he can hunt and kill!!!

Something else I'm very excited about is next week's baby shower for our secret godson.

We're just going to keep our tryst a secret, so we don't have to deal with the Housemaid and the wrath of her clique vengeance.

I watch the Housemaid in our cameras, as she stalks our property, looking for us to talk to about the fact that we were speaking with Our Fave's Mom the other day.

It's horrible to feel like we have to hide from her, but I just don't want the work of defending my decision of having Our Fave's Mom as a friend.

I want to live without the village clique trying to tell me what to do to fit in.

Hmmm.

Sounds an awful lot like certain people back home.

People are people.

Everywhere.

Only this time, I get a new slate where I can only receive the good.

I've learned from the cliques back home.

Beware of those who travel in packs.

Unless they have 4 legs.

i choose to see the light i am to this world

well ...

We talked about it.

We're really not in a financial position to pay for a child.

Now I have to break the news to Our Fave's Mom.  This is going to feel bad.

Yet, not as bad as being tapped financially and having regrets and resentment later.

I didn't get a veggie garden and fruit trees SOLELY because I like them.

Lord knows I'm lazy and would rather just buy my food from the store.

I did this to prepare for our near future.

We need to live off our own land as much as possible to keep our costs down.

If we need to keep our costs down for us to be financially well in the future, then we certainly can't afford to support a little person.

Again, I'll give the children in the village my time.

I wanted to start the children's choir in April, but here we are at April and we're not settled yet.  There's still too much stress to start thinking about lesson planning et al.

We also found out there's another repair that really stung.

I haven't wanted to talk about it, because I wasn't ready to accept it, but our well started out clean for our healthy water, but has quickly turned dirty again.

Our 1st plumber we had was here to help us with the pool, because it had problems and when I told him about the new well and the water, he just looked at me and told me as sweetly as possible that we wasted our money.

The well doesn't work and was built for no reason.

We need a different system with a filter to have our clean water.

So, when I thought we were only in the hole a little bit for what we originally set out to spend, I realized the tear in our pocket just got a little deeper.

The well is going to be taken apart and beautiful plants will be put there, or maybe another fruit tree.

We just got the yard repaired from all the damage the pool workers did and now it's going to be dug up once more for more work.

Ugh.  It truly never ends.

I had such a nice skype chat with my Eternal Friend yesterday, and she told me that the 3 months it took her to adjust had nothing to do with all the repairs etc. we had to do with Casa Paraíso.

Hence, our 3 months is looking like maybe it will take us 5 or 6 months to settle in.

Jeeeeezus.

I sure hope there's an end in sight and we can just start living.

Then, maybe I'll have time to find true friends I desperately need here.

I have accepted the fact that my true friends are not going to be people that are here in the village.

There's nothing wrong with being loving and friendly toward everyone.  I genuinely have so much appreciation for everyone here.

However, we could never understand each others lives, never having lived in one another's shoes.

My shoes look awfully fancy to everyone here.

Yet, I look next door at Mr. Richy Rich and think his shoes are just a little shinier, so my judgement is no different than anyone else.

I guess I could never understand HIS life, either.

All I want is love.  It's really all I ask for.

I say the wrong things a lot.

I do the wrong things a lot.

People dislike me for it and I'm a proud member of The Pariah Club, because I know we're all on this world learning together, and I understand other people's mistakes, as long as they're a good person in their core.

None of my mistakes take away from the fact that my heart is always in the right place.  As long as I have guidance from people who still have love for me, I'm happy.

All I want is to be loved.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go dodge the raindrops that are teeming in our bedroom.

Oh, Mr. Carpenter, could we get this roof done pronto!?!?!

i see myself realistically and objectively

no turtle please.

So, I tried a new morning routine.

Papi was upset that I start my day with my coffee and blog, because it seems that I don't get enough done around the house.

He doesn't like that my blog takes precedence in the morning.  Today, instead, here's how my 'good morning' went.

~I begin with poop picking up,
~Yard watering,
~Taking care of the plumber who's checking out our water that still seems dirty,
~Trying yet AGAIN to get that fucking washing machine working,
~Feeding the animals at the same time as trying to deal with my local salad vendor who came to the door to bring luscious organic veggies,
~Trying to explain to the guy who wants to buy our machine and comes to the house EVERY DAY that I don't want to sell,
~Dealing with the Housemaid who also tried to tell the guy who wants to buy our machine that we don't want to sell,
~Taking a 20 minute snack break with Our Unadopted Child who cooked me crab for lunch to go along with the papaya I plucked from the tree,
~Dealing with the car mechanic who is desperately trying to get more work done on the car, even though we keep saying less, because we've run out of money,
~Then I tried to get Papi up. 

It didn't work, and I just finished showering.

I've been so busy, and there has been so much trouble with water issues in the house that I haven't showered in days.

Along with dirty clothes because the washer doesn't work, I felt like I was going to morph into the newly laid sod.

So.  I got in the shower and then checked online to see when the bank is open.

Earlier on, Papi had grumbled in his half sleep as I was running around, "Can you check online to see when the bank is open, because if it closes early we'll have to ride the motorcycle in."

I informed him that I haven't even gotten out of my pajamas or eaten breakfast yet, because I haven't stopped running since 8 a.m. and that would be a 'no'.

When I finally got out of the shower and online to check if it was open, I was too late.  Of course it's too late.  We're very close to it being g*d's day, so people have to start drinking.  It's only 1:00, and everything is closing.

People back home just don't seem to get why it's so hard to get anything done here.  Nobody really understands that other than cleaning non-stop because it's so damn dirty here, you get to choose ONE thing a day to do and that's it.

I chose to wash my hair and very dirty body, and now we don't get to go to the bank.

However, if Papi just had've gotten his ass out of bed, then he could have gone, but my love likes to stay up until 4 a.m. and can't get up in the afternoon any earlier than around 2 or 3 p.m.  Then he tries to catch up on everything I couldn't do by myself.

I have clean hair though.  And everyone who's conscious has been fed.

I just know that my usual morning routine would have been much nicer.  A nice positive way to start the day with a coffee and blog.

Today my coffee was being drank while I watered the plants.  Not a bad way to wake up, but now, instead of trying to write about yesterday, I can't remember what happened, because too much time has passed today and the day already feels like it's 10 p.m. because I've done so much.

All I can do is review my day today, because the stress level shot up with my first breath.

Sorry, Papi.  My morning routine will stay as is, because people would probably have liked to have known what happened yesterday instead of the mania I had to deal with today.

Anyway, now I'll just wait patiently for the carpenter to come to make our bed, as his decrepit car broke down somewhere en route and now he's stuck.

Then I'll wait a little more for the street power to come back on so I can do some laundry.  Then I'll clean my dishes with water that is dirty again.

Maybe, just maybe I'll find a moment to relax and have those eggs I didn't get to have this morning.

And maybe Papi will get out of bed and I'll have an adult who speaks English to talk to, rather than Our Favourite who came to my door asking if I'd like to buy a pet turtle today.

Our Favourite was doing everything in his power to convince us that we need a pet turtle he was holding out toward me proudly.

I did everything I could to convince him that the dogs would eat it, considering they already ate a baby crab that was minding it's own business today.

He proceeded to tell me that all I needed was a home for the turtle and it would be fine.

I tried my best to explain that we have no more money and are living off credit cards.

He's a child.  He doesn't get what 'no money' means!!!!  He couldn't understand that this goddam Casa Paraíso needs so many repairs that we're financially finished.

No turtle please.

i accept myself completely as i am

Water, water, everywhere

Water was coming dripping through various parts of Casa Paraíso.

Oh so pleasant.

We knew we needed a new roof, because we saw leaking when we first moved in, but it seems that the damage up there has accelerated.

I scrambled throughout the house to find any empty dog dish, bowl, and bucket I could find.

If I didn't have the drops under control with the 7 tubs I found, I would move on to the pots from the kitchen.

Last night, the trick was to find a place where I could write my gratitude list to My Gratitude Buddy, my MC Guru and the Sweet Ex on my laptop, without it being bombarded with rain.

Don't get me wrong.

I actually like the rain here.

It's warm and feels more like a fresh shower than in Vancouver, where it feels like an all out attack of personal space.

Not to mention, when it rains, I get happy for a few reasons.  First, the rain water pulls all the dirt to the bottom of the pool, making it much more clear and easier to get the dirt out.

Now, if only we could work that damn machine to clean out the dirt, we'd be in business.  Until then, I hover on top on floaty devices like a princess.

Anyway, back to the rain.

Second, I get happy because my trees are being fed.  They're new and need a lot of water.

So when I hear the rain teeming down in a full force monsoon, I am pleased.

It also means I don't have to do the watering.  I like watering, because I talk to my trees and tell them how much I love them.

Yet, I hate the sand fleas biting me and leaving me looking like I have smallpox or some other disease, confined to the knees down.

So, there we were dodging raindrops in our bedroom, when we decided to do a bit of budgeting.

Mostly because we now have to have a new roof.  That shit isn't cheap.

Do we go with the plastic tiles?  Or ceramic?  Ceramic would have a better resale value for the house that's for sure.

However, looking at our budgeting, we realized we've gone broke.

Good news is, we really have everything we need now.

All the necessities.

Papi set out with a certain amount of money put aside for getting started with and we've only gone over by a few grand.

... ahem ... the roof ...

After paying for the roof, the landscaping to fix what the pool people destroyed and the rocks out front to save use from the wrath of the waves, we need to live simple.

No problem!  Everything is fine!

Until I realized that my iMovie program stopped being my friend, and I still have to buy an editing program, plus I need a monitor and keyboard so that I can make music again.

Seriously.

We are a little stressed out for money.

No matter.

Once I get my garden up and going, between the veggies and the fruit trees, we won't starve.

The dogs are Dominican.

They're used to rice.

And hey, we haven't been able to wash our clothes for 2 weeks, because our washing machine we just bought doesn't work.  We're starting to look like street people and we're getting used to that too.

'Dirty' in Vancouver has NOTHING on the DR.  We get one wear out of clothes before they look like we've rolled around in the mud.

Especially with The Donkey jumping on us all the time.

However, being broke is not a problem when you have a beautiful view, doggy TV and a pool to de-stress in.

'Broke' is going to be ok.

For the first time ever in my life, 'broke' looks pretty swanky.

And the hammock swings.

my wealth is increasing more and more now

The Vacation - Part 5, The Big Ending

It was time to drive home, after spending 3 days in the capitol, and finally feeling like I'd forgiven Papi for drinking, albeit, not trusting that it wouldn't happen again.

You can never trust an active alcoholic to tell you the truth.  That trust is built with time.

Upon leaving the hotel, we were told of a new route.

It was a new road that was straight, safe and not many people traveled, so not many chances of an accident.

It was barren alright.  It had us worried about the possibility of breaking down, as there wasn't a store, a person, nor any help anywhere.

We had a little anxiety about cars breaking down since we traded in the jalopy, even though this newer car worked well.  We were still gun shy.

At the first of 3 toll booths, we found the ONLY gas station on the highway.  We filled our tank full, and at that same time, I also filled up on the best tasting ribs I'd ever experienced.

When I'm nervous, I gorge.

Oh, I ate those scrumptious delicacies and even shared a little with Sir Bark-A-Lot, forcing us to suffer the wrath of his bowels assaulting us with his stench 30 minutes later.

After a few hours, we got to the end of the stretch of highway with not a soul in sight, but then had the daunting task of finding our way home.

We were hours away.

We didn't take the turn off we needed, because true to any developing country, most people driving know the roads and know which donkey to turn left at, hence there are no signs.

We were now driving for another hour, realizing we were probably lost.

Stopping at a gas station to fill up again, we had hopes that the guy could tell us how to get home.  It seemed like we had someone who knew what he was talking about.

He told us to go back the way we came and take the Las Terrenas exit.

We found it, then realized all roads led us to nowhere, in circles, winding back up where we started from, further from our house.

We decided that the guy obviously didn't know what he was talking about and headed back toward him to pass him by and carry on for a while.  It was now 2 in the morning as we passed familiar landmarks we had already seen, but we needed to find someone to help us.

Papi was way too tired, and needed me to drive.  No problem.  There doesn't seem to be anyone who will stop me to check if I have a license.

We wound up in a city called Samaná.  It was a mind fuck.  Every street was a circle and we couldn't get out.

We kept winding up in the same place we started, just like in Las Terrenas, even though we tried every avenue we could find.  The only one left was the one we came in on, and that wasn't an option.  We weren't driving 5 hours back to the capitol.

There were some people drinking at the side of the road, and I did my best, 'I'm tough don't fuck with me, but I need your help' attitude.

They were indeed good people and we followed them as they drove their motorcycle out of the city to help us leave.  Again, we were heading back to the capitol, but with a switch.

We had to turn off at a city called Nagua.  Oh, I drove.  For another hour.

By the time we reached this city, Papi had been snoring for at least 30 minutes, and the car started to overheat.  As it just reached red, I put the car into neutral, hazard lights on and coasted for a while.

It seemed to do the trick.  The arm lowered.  But I was scared shitless that we were going to be stuck, and had I started to get bleary eyed and tired, so I woke Papi.

"Can you drive?  I'm starting to fall asleep at the wheel."

It was 4 a.m. when he looked at his watch, slurring tired words, "Pull over, we're sleeping at the side of the road."

We've been told NEVER to do this, but what was our option?  To fall asleep at the wheel and kill ourselves?  At this point, we'd been driving for about 9 hours and didn't care if someone robbed and beat us.  We just needed to sleep.

We found a nice little graveyard and across the street was a gate that looked like it belonged to people with money.

They would understand two gringos passed out in their driveway, I'm sure.

6:30 a.m. came, I woke up with neck and back pain from hell, then looked behind our car, noticing that the gate was open, and the owners allowed us to keep sleeping.  We definitely chose the right house.

We actually made it home an hour later to the Dominican Daddy and the Housemaid both petrified as to what had happened to us, both wide awake waiting for us to return and release them from their job of protecting Casa Paraíso.

Return we did.

From now on, we take The Moca, even if it is the most terrifyingly treacherous road in the country.

We need a vacation from our mini-vacation, but true to our adventure here, that is not going to happen.

i follow my dreams no matter what

'The Guard'

So, yesterday, as we were working with the carpenter on the bed frame specs, we of course had a visit from the Housemaid.

I forgot to lock the front gate.

I was a little perturbed at myself, to say the least.

She likes to meddle in our financial business and I kept asking her what it was she needed, while at the same time, trying to speak to the carpenter about the bed.

She would keep telling me, "No, finish with him and we'll talk."

Right, so you can find out how much he's charging us and get him to ask for a little more for you?

No thanks.

Seriously, Papi, you need to learn your Spanish so I'm not the only one chatting!!!

Finally, I isolated her downstairs, turned on Google Translate, who happens to be my best friend since arriving here, and began to ask what she specifically needed.

She pulled out a letter from her husband, the Dominican Daddy.

I typed it into the translator and found out some information that scared the hell out of me.

You see, we had 'The Guard' outside our house while the wall was being put up.

I suppose she trusted him to be there, because we were inside and he was just staying outdoors.

I trusted him, because he was the Dominican Daddy's cousin, and thought he was trustworthy if they were telling us to have him work for us.

Anyway, I had asked him to come watch Casa Paraíso while we are at the capitol next week, working on our residency.

Bad move.

First, he came to our house asking for an advance, because he was out of baby formula.

I paid him in advance for one day, then told him I'd pay him for the 2nd day when we returned.

The letter from the Dominican Daddy asked me if what I had paid 'The Guard' was for both days in advance, then went on to explain why he was asking in much more terrifying words.

He explained that even though he is his cousin, that we can't trust him.

The Housemaid then explained he's been in jail for robbery, not to mention is currently being investigated for robbing the last place he worked at as 'security'.

He sets up people for going away, then while they're gone, he and his fellow bandidos rob the person who he is supposed to be 'protecting'.

We've learned it happens a lot here, via the Pool Man and the DR1 Forum.

The Dominican Daddy told us he and his wife, the Housemaid, would watch the place.  I can trust them, as they don't overtly steal.  They just do it in the sneaky way, where they think we're not going to notice.

If they take a little toothpaste, tampons and soap while we're gone, it's much better than our computer, TV et al.  So be it.

Not to mention, he knows he would lose monthly income if he didn't take care of our place.  Plus, I really do believe that even though these two are opportunists, they have our protection in mind.

We told him we'd give him both our guns and asked the Housemaid if she could find a way to tell 'The Guard' we don't need his services.  I asked her to tell him in such a way that won't make us a target for his anger, making us his next victim.

We also asked her to tell him that we'd find another way to have him work off the money we paid him for baby formula.

Or not.

Maybe with a dude that terrifying, we want to just tell him it's a baby shower gift and leave it at that.

He has already begged us for money each and every time he sees us.  It's not like he's going to stop.

How does he think WE responsible for HIM not keeping IT in his pants?

He's not our dependent, yet somehow, he feels that we owe him, just because we're white and don't live in a shack.

Dude.  If you can't be responsible enough, and have 4 babies all over the place, honestly, it's nobody's fault but your own.

Keep your pecker in your pants!

Somehow, we have to keep the guy on our side though.

Maybe formula here and there will buy us some peace?

Or maybe it will set us up for more extortion?

All I know is, I'm a little scared of 'The Guard', and very grateful that the Dominican Daddy is on our side.

i trust in my ability to keep us safe in our future

leave me alone.

The puppies are free.  The doors are closed.

We have one man coming back to fix the filter on our house water, but that's really it for today.

I woke up and opened every window and door in our house and smiled at Casa Paraíso and it was a bright shiny day.

It was at that moment, that I realized just how uncomfortable I am with strangers in my space, and just how much I've learned not to trust people.

I know that when I had roommates, it was hard for me to keep Hurricane Andréa under wraps, and the demon horns from sprouting up every time I didn't like something.

Maybe it's because I grew up in small spaces with my mother and sister?

I remember the first time I was the happiest was when I lived in a dark, dank, mouldy basement suite in East Van.

I didn't care how awful it was and that there were mushrooms growing out of the walls in the bathroom.  I was happy because I had my Dearly Departed Gypsy, my piano and my very own space.

Now I see it.  I can live with Papi and animals, but that's about it.

Can you imagine what a crabby old bitch I'm going to be in the old folks home?  I'll probably be that old fart hiding in my room yelling, "Get the hell out!" when someone knocks on my door.

That's if I make it that far without doing myself in with all the stress I put myself through.

Yesterday, I obsessed all day long about the rest of the chocolate that was in the cupboard.

It called me.

I kept ignoring it until the little voice in my head said, "You know, if you eat the chocolate, it won't be here anymore and you can stop obsessing about it!"

So I ate it.  Then berated myself.

However!  I did exercise and that made me feel stronger and gave me hope that I will feel good in my skin once more.

There was also one image that I remember seeing in the past that came up on Facebook yesterday.  It seems to help me every time, and somehow, comes along at the moment I need it.

Leave it to Marilyn to save my brain from insanity.

She reminded me of a time when I was close to 150 lbs and I was completely made of mighty muscle.

I was boxing then.  I was strong.  I had such big biceps that the sleeves of my t-shirt were tight against my arms, yet I had no unnecessary fat on my body and loved myself for working so hard at being so sturdy.

My friend asked me very sweetly, "Just curious, but how much bigger do you need your arms to be?!?!"

I had a reminder from one of my great Blogger Friends yesterday, that he loves his lady no matter what size she is and that nobody really likes to look at a skinny old bag.

All the strangers are gone from our yard.  Our doors and walls are up.  Our pool is still being treated for the mud water, but soon, very soon it will be functional and my life will be filled with exercise.

Today, I stare out at the ocean as I write every word in this blog in my serene space.

Today, I felt like we were actually going to have the life we desire here.

Today, I woke up with a new beginning, and more silliness to continue editing on our YouTube show for its Sunday airing.

I keep being reminded of who I am and what I need to be comfortable.  I'm learning so much about myself in this move.

I am grateful for the lessons, and the fruit ice that I made yesterday to keep my sweet tooth curbed.

What a difference a day makes, how amazing is it to be reminded by mi esposo and my friends that being loved has nothing to do with my size.

it is easy for me to stay on my food plan to maintain a healthy weight

bossy boots in da house!

The pool is being filled with river water!

By tomorrow we should be swimming.  I was hoping for today, as I kinda put my back out yesterday and I'm in a little need of some exercise, pain free floating and fresh blood to pump into the spasm.

I forgot we have a walkway with a step now and I went down jarring my bloody back.

Of course it was because I was distracted.

This damn injured brain can't do two things at once, or there's trouble, and its balance is so horrific that I'm a permadrunk.

I was distracted because was angry about the Housemaid meddling in our business again and telling the workers what we wanted, when we have told her, and them, 20 times what we've wanted.

She wants to keep more of the money she wrangled from us.

Nope.  You steal that amount of money, you're giving us what we paid for.

But she kept on telling the workers, "No door.  Just a concrete wall."

Right.  We just moved to paradise on the ocean to look at a fucking concrete wall.

I don't think so.  We're having our wooden slats in front so that we can still look at the ocean, and that is the last word.

I had to get stern with her and tell her she is not in charge, that she works for me and that if she's going to talk about this, she talks about it with me and nobody else.

Then I had to remind her of our contract of what we agreed upon, and that we WILL be getting what we agreed on.  Period.

This exchange of hardheaded communication was while Papi was yelling at the entire neighbourhood.

You see, we came home from a quick shopping excursion to practically all our neighbours having a party in our yard.

Everyone was hanging out on our deck, sitting in our furniture, hanging out pool side, and kids and dogs were running around the yard.

I have to keep telling the kids to stay away from the pool to set up the ground 'rules', because I'm not being responsible for a drowning accident on my property.

But this was ridiculous.

So, Papi lost it after hearing that the Housemaid was trying to talk to someone in Spanish saying something contrary to what we agreed on.

He yelled at everyone, "If your'e not working get the hell out!  This is our damn home!  This is not a public park!  Go on!  Get the hell out!"

Oh, they didn't understand what he was saying literally, they just knew they should leave, NOW!

From that point forth, the kids stayed on the perimeter and just looked in.

It was then that the Pool Man's wife said, "You're a strong man now.  Now everyone will respect you. You won't have any troubles anymore."

The funniest part was, everyone just went on like nothing happened.

I know that in Canada, if Papi yelled like that, there would be much hostility, glaring of eyes, exchanges of hurtful words and perhaps even a fist fight.

Like I learned from my Spanish teacher back home, it's the way people communicate here.

You fling your arms about and puff yourself up, speaking louder than the one before you, and it's just the way it has to be if you want someone to listen to you.

I have to say, I was a little taken aback, because I'd never seen Papi that angry!

But then, I've never seen myself be so strict with someone who is trying to take advantage of us either.

When the Housemaid and I were finished communicating, I found a place in myself that was stronger than I'd ever seen.

I say that I have to teach the Housemaid how to clean, because from living in a shack her whole life, she doesn't really know what North American clean means.

But honestly, she's training us how to be firm, and the nicest part was, there was no disrespect involved.  It was just hard-nosed heart.

This morning when I let the puppies out to pee, ...

... not that they needed to, the floor was covered in puppy art for me this morning ...

... the workers just waved like they do every morning with a smile.

And you know what?  There were no kids running around our yard.

We're closer to the peace of Casa Paraíso we came for.

That light at the end of the tunnel is shining very brightly as I watch the last of the river water getting poured into our pool, and that damn wooden door is finally getting put up so that I can let the dogs run free.

Shine bright, light.

I can see you now.

i feel good about the way i do my job

Episode 3

No internet today, so all you get is our YouTube show.

Enjoy Episode 3 - La Casa!

i make new friends with ease

let the chaos begin

The 2nd puppy has arrived!!

I'd love to take pictures of her, but damnit if Papi hasn't hidden the camera on the bandidos.

Or perhaps, me?  Always when I bring it out, I hear, "No, not right now."

Yes, Papi!  People want to see our chaos and I have more YouTube shows to make!!!

Anyway, she's going to be an ugly little girl, but that's the way we want her.  She's short one eye, has a huge scar on her head and an unattractive underbite.

We have NO idea what she's made of, only that she has black lab in there somewhere.

Man what a cutie though!!!  So damn sweet!

But I'll be lucky if this blog gets written within 4 hours.

You can call me Cinderella, because I'm mopping the floors more than I ever have in my life, and between mopping and running to the john, I'm a little short on time.

She's a good girl, but so little at only 8 weeks that she couldn't get off the bed last night and peed on it.  Which didn't upset me so much, considering we're getting rid of it.

But how grateful am I to have a 2nd one?!?  She won't be coming on this one that's for sure.

The humping has ceased for me since I showed my alpha, but not for Papi.  He just can't bring himself to do it.

Yet, there is no humping of the new puppy, because now SHE is humping the Jake-A-Like.

There is going to be so much puppy safing in the house.  The litter box is her favourite thing right now.

Not to mention, we can't let them run in the yard, because the fence is being built, so there's nothing to keep them in, so there's not much time to get her outside in time for accidents.

Wow, these people mean business!  I've never seen anything like it!

Here's the problem though; no fence = easy access for bandidos.

Our DR Family instructed us to get a guard.  More precisely, a body-guard.  The Dominican Daddy has a cousin that is about 10 feet tall and missing a few teeth.

He came and stayed outside on our hammock last night.  He looked like a scary amazon, but upon meeting him, he was really just a gentle giant.  However, being as massive as he is, nobody was going to mess with him.

Anyway, yesterday when I got up, I thought all the people who were here were actually here to work on the wall.  I realized in the afternoon that there were more spectators than workers.

Casa Paraíso drew a crowd.

When I brought the babies out for an attempt at potty training this morning ...

... excuse me for a moment while i go pry kitty-roca from the puppies mouth and move the litter box to a higher level ...

... the crowd was already starting to form.  It was 7am people!!!

I guess their roosters woke them and the decided to get front row seats.

... excuse me while i pry the puppy pee training pad out of BOTH of their mouths ...

It was still a little dark outside, which made me a bit nervous, so I didn't stick around long enough for them to get the poop out.

No matter.  They both found a nice spot on the floor in the kitchen to take care of business.

Both puppies are having so much fun, and I'm so grateful.

So is Sir Bark-A-Lot.  He's not so cool with the new arrangement.  He's looking a bit like Cujo these days.

The good news is I'm eating, because I decided there's no point trying to stop the nastiness, and starving wasn't working.  So now I have energy to run to the can.

More good new is I found my Prozac.  No need to worry about Hurricane Andréa showing up anymore.

The best good news is our stove is fixed!!!  We now have 4 burners, as opposed to one that we had to light with a match.  They all work with the flick of a switch.

Tonight I'm going to make a meal for Papi and I.

Probably only pasta with meat sauce again, considering we haven't found much more in terms of ingredients to cook with.  We'll have to go into the big city to find more staples.

Besides, we don't really have time to investigate food, because there's always so much more to do.

Like fix a flat on a tire.  That was nice for Papi to have to deal with yesterday.

Now I know why there's a tire store on every corner instead of Starbuck's.

all the things i want and need come to me

Paradise? Well ...

Too much has happened, so I don't even know where to begin to tell you.

Let's start with the fact that I'm writing this from the shitter, because I can't leave the bathroom due to my travellers squirts.

I'm so sick.  This happens every time, no matter how much black walnut tincture I take in.

We have a new chihuahua puppy for Sir Bark-A-Lot.  He's just as sick as I am and as uncomfortable as Psycho Kitty.

Psycho Kitty had to have dental surgery yesterday because his tooth rotted out and got infected as we were travelling.

We've also decided to take on a 2nd puppy, a little girl with one eye.  We'll get her in a few days when the chi-baby is feeling better.

Pretty sure this li'l lady has the spirit of The Golden.  Same eye missing, and same sweet temperament.

We have no hot water, nor do we have water pressure.

This is the cold season, so I'm actually donning a sweatshirt and pants.

Oh, my pants!  They are destroyed because the house maid put bleach in the water to wash them.  All my pretty city clothes are now donned with polka dots, which will turn into holes when they're washed again.  I will now fit in with the Dominicans.

We had to get her to wash all our clothes that we had at the storage facility here, because they were mouldy when we got to them.  They've only been here for 4 months and everything we owned had a layer of mould soot on it.  So lovely.

We haven't eaten a meal since we left Canada.

Our gas range only has one burner that works and when we finally had time (from running around all day, never stopping to the point of my feet throbbing), we bought groceries to cook a nice meal instead of corn chips for dinner again.

Well, the last functioning burner quit, so last night, yet again, we had more corn chips for dinner.

The sweet maid's boy brings me fresh fruit.  I hope he brings more today.  I'm starving.

All our clothes are still in suitcases, because we don't have dressers to put them in.  So, we can't find anything because it's a mess.

It took so long to find my underwear, because it was used to stuff into tiny little areas of the suitcase, that I wore the same skanky pair for 5 days straight.

Today I'm at the point of 'fuck it' and I'm going commando.

That was super great today, when we had to pull over to find a washroom to clean the vomit off my pants from the chi-baby.  2nd time he's christened me with his stomach acid now.

First time, yesterday, I just sent Papi in to go buy me a new skirt.  This time I just found a washroom at a restaurant, stripped down and cleaned my pants, then left the washroom looking like I had jumped into the sink.

We haven't even been able to find time or energy to get into the ocean that is mere steps away.

Well, with the exception of the time I had to run around the neighbourhood trying to find the new puppy that decided he was going back to where he came from.

I ran up and down the beach looking for him.  The vision of running up and down a Caribbean beach may sound 'nice' to you, but this this body is so broken that 'running' around put me into back spasm.

Oh, and our bed?  It's so uncomfortable that within 20 minutes of lying in it, even the bones in my fingers hurt from all the pain radiating from every blood vessel in my body.

This is not paradise, nor is it relaxation.  This is more work than I've done since my motorcycle accident 4 years ago.

I'm in agony and exhausted, on top of having a nasty case of the shits.  It's getting so bad, that pretty soon I'll be able to shit through the eye of a needle.

I laughed at Papi when he said we need to build a wall for our place to keep us safe.

I'm not laughing anymore.  Our house maid told us I'm never allowed to be left alone in Casa Paraíso, because the bandidos will come and overpower me to take everything, so I'm basically a prisoner.

My thoughts of writing on my laptop while having a beautiful view of the ocean are squelched.  I'm hiding in the back of the house in the spare room to be sure nobody sees my computer.

Not paradise.  No, not yet.

So, if you had even a remote moment or tinge of jealousy in your body about us moving here, don't.

Instead, enjoy your freedom as you move about the city to go to a store and instantly find what you need, have a warm shower and crawl into your comfortable beds that aren't filled with ants, sand, and cockroaches the size of my fist.

Go enjoy your own paradise.  Your life of accessibility is grand.  You really are living well.

I promise you.

everything will get better.  i know this, because it always does.  i trust this to still be true.