Stuff to remember: If I’d known then what I know now

If I had known then what I know now: if I’d known how difficult and expensive it would be to buy baking supplies, I would have tried to bring more with me. Today I spent fifty dollars on cake pans. I thought I’d be able to get a cheap but decent cake pan like the many cake pans I had in Calgary, but nothing here is cheap.  I went to three stores to eventually find an angel cake pan.

When you take years to accumulate things and only occasionally add to your inventory, you forget the cost of these things. Some things weren’t priorities when we moved. I didn’t really believe I’d be doing much baking here. Then my husband’s birthday loomed on the horizon.

I would like to make a cake for my husband’s birthday, but the lack of a cake pan was a problem. Sure, I have layer cake pans, but I thought I might like to make an angel cake, or a 9 x 13 cake. I used to have pans for that.

I also thought cupcakes would be nice, but I gave away all my muffin tins. Who knew replacing them would cost about $20 for a tray to make a dozen muffins?  I’m happy that our friends and family have great muffin tins, but what am I supposed to use?

There are so many things we take for granted, like a good spatula, a decent icing spreader, a good non-stick cake pan, a pie plate or a pastry blender. I remembered many items to save from our old household, but my husband isn’t a baker and he doesn’t have the same appreciation for the specialized tools. Sure, you can buy these things here, but I didn’t go out and buy all those things at once the first time around. Some of them I had long before we were married.

This makes me appreciate even more the items I did move here, some with a little difficulty, such as my marble rolling pin, a mortar and pestle, a waffle maker, and my super powerful electric mixer.

I know these are first world problems, and sometimes a quest for an item can be fun. I am still able to find joy and satisfaction in making a tender and flaky pie crust, or a delicious cake or batch of cookies. Besides, a person could successfully move all their utensils or replace them all with top of the line stuff from A.L. Thompson or Bon Vivant, and your favourite recipes still need to be adjusted for the different oven, the differences in the flour and the altitude change. I don’t expect perfection the first time I bake something here, but I look forward to the day when I can make whatever I want without a three store shopping trip!


Canada Day!

Today we celebrate the country of my birth and citizenship! Today is Canada Day. I was asked what Canada Day represented. As I am in the middle of reading a book about the US revolutionary war, I had to think for a moment. We don’t have “Independence Day”  as our American friends have. We didn’t go to war to become a country, but we do celebrate the Confederation of our provinces.

In 1867, the first provinces united to form Canada and signed a constitution. Some provinces joined confederation later, but we still celebrate Canada’s birthday as a country on July 1. The day was first known as Dominion Day, until 1982 when it  became known as Canada Day.

To me Canada Day marks the start of summer and is celebrated with barbecues, picnics in the park surrounded by other Canadians, red and white desserts and waving of our flag, the Maple Leaf. To me, it is a reminder of who I am and where I come from, and that regardless of where I have chosen to live, I am still a proud Canadian. In fact, living in another country has reinforced those feelings in me every day and shown me that at my very core I will always be Canadian.

To my fellow Canadians, Happy Canada Day!

A Moving experience, part 1: stuff to forget

When I say moving I’m actually talking about household effects.

We moved here using suitcases over the course of three years from a home where we’d lived for 21 years. Our old house had lots of storage. Lots and lots of storage. We had so much storage that we lost track of what we were storing.

When we married many years ago, we merged the contents of my apartment and my husband’s condo into his two bedroom condo. It was a small space, but big enough for two of us. We didn’t have much stuff.  When I became pregnant with our first child we started looking more seriously at houses. We moved into our four bedroom house just a few months before our daughter was born.

Life was very busy from the moment we became parents until we moved out of our house six months ago. We both come from large families and we have many nieces and nephews. We didn’t have to buy anything for our daughter. Well, we bought diapers, and eventually food. We were given so many gifts and hand-me-downs that she was outfitted until the day she said “I’m not really a fan of that colour” or “that style”.  It was the same for our son, although there weren’t as many boy cousins and their clothes were more likely to be worn out before they made it to our house.

For awhile I was able to stay on top of the inventory, or so I thought. Then more stuff started to enter our house. Toys, books, school supplies, crafts, clothing, movies and music all made their way in, with very little purging of the old. Sure, I very often had a bag or four or five to give the numerous charities that called regularly looking for “gently used clothing and household goods” but I also had lots of storage space.  You can see where this is going. If you’ve ever moved from a place you’ve been that long, or cleaned out a house after a parent or grandparent passed, you know where this is going.

For over a year, I carefully went through every box and bag and closet. I gave away several bags and boxes each week filled with clothing, linens, books and movies. It hardly made a dent. I persisted. We had a garage sale. We gave stuff to our children. We gave away more stuff. We sold stuff online. Still, we had a storage room full of boxes and closets full of clothing. Every time we came to our place on the island, we filled suitcases with carefully packed pictures and plates and mugs that had special meaning.

When we finally moved we only brought things that either had special meaning or that were incredibly useful and hard to replace. For example, our garlic press didn’t take much space and we hadn’t found one we liked here, so we brought it.

The move from the old house was not a pretty sight. At first it was fun to read old letters and cards, and to look at old photos and our kids’ homework. I had sorted through them, making piles to shred, scan or save.  The scan pile was never completely scanned. Those things were thrown away. Our photo albums, filled with travel and family photos from pre-digital camera days, are still in a parent’s basement. Lovely items given to us as gifts were deemed too large to pack. I don’t remember where they went.

When we finally moved here permanently, we had already moved a lot of our favourite things. It wasn’t the huge and overwhelming task that we would have faced if we’d put everything into a shipping container and had it delivered all at once. We still hadn’t found places for everything, though. We are determined to avoid mistakes of the past and store things that “might be useful” someday. We don’t have much storage space, so what we do have is being used for Christmas and seasonal storage, and to store “winter” clothes for travel.

Once in awhile I’ll think of something that I gave away, or may have given away, and I wonder why I didn’t keep it. Or I’ll wonder where it went. For the first month or so, I’d feel a stab of pain and I’d be close to tears for something as random as being in a kitchen store and not seeing a single thing I liked as much as what I’ve given away. Regrets, I’ve had a few…. Those feelings are thankfully hitting me less often. I don’t like to compare it with Post Traumatic Stress or grieving, but the triggers have become less potent over time in the same way. Just this morning I wondered what we did with our ice cream and yogurt makers. The last few days of packing really are a blur, so I really don’t remember.

Sometimes I’ll have a stab of guilt over selling the only home our kids have ever known. They are students and as such they don’t have a permanent address. Our son visited recently and referred to our place here as a “home away from home”, which was some consolation, but our daughter hasn’t been to this place since 2012. She is less emotional about the loss of her childhood home, however, having left years ago and spending very little time there even on summer holidays.

There is a silver lining to all this. We gave away a lot of our things to friends and family, offering first dibs to our children. On a recent visit to my daughter, it felt like my “home away from home” with the artwork and pictures and even cooking utensils and bed sheets we’d passed along. My sister has my fine china. She uses it every day. That makes me happy, especially when we have dinner at her place. Once our son has his own place, he’ll be using dishes and linens that we donated from our house. There is no need to store things anymore. They are being used. That also makes me happy.

What I’m trying to say, is that you shouldn’t get too attached to stuff, but if something gives you good memories or has a sentimental attachment, keep it, use it, and cherish it,  or share it with someone who will. Don’t store too much stuff. Get it out and give it away, or use it. There isn’t much that actually becomes more valuable with time, no matter what the collectors tell you. I sold hundreds of dollars worth of collector plates for the equivalent of lunch money, or I gave them away. I enjoyed them while I had them, but I couldn’t bring them all with me.

I probably enjoy my the photos and pictures we’ve hung on our walls more than I ever did. In this smaller space, I see them more often. Every item we kept was carefully selected, wrapped and delivered here personally. What I didn’t bring, I hope others are enjoying as much, if not more, than we did. Sometimes I even get to see it.


Happy Father’s Day!

Yesterday was Father’s Day in my world. Father’s Day has been a hit or miss holiday for the past few years. I always call my dad, and my husband calls his, but my husband is often away. Our children probably got out of the habit of celebrating the day, but they both called with love and best wishes…eventually.

Father’s Day here seems to be all about brunch, or lunch, or maybe an extended brunch. We decided that just in case Eden Rock is going to be ruined forever by the addition of a massive cruise ship dock, we should snorkel there while we can. It was beautiful! Fantastic! It was all we’ve come to expect of a snorkel at Eden Rock, except for one thing. We were only in for 30 minutes. We entered from the stairs near the Paradise Grill, which, to me, makes it remarkably easy. We swam out to the main part of the reef, enjoying the Parrot Fish, Blue Tangs, Needlefish, Tarpon and finally the incredible maze of coral from which we often see divers emerging. There was a loud roar from the sky and I thought, “There goes the WestJet flight!”. I looked up and the sky was growing darker to the east. We heard another roar, which this time was definitely thunder. We decided to head back in.

It wasn’t all disappointing. We saw more in five minutes than we often see in a half hour. On our way back we saw a huge school of reef

I think they are beautiful, but they are often quite shy and I’ve never seen more that about a dozen at a time. This time there were dozens, probably sixty, and they were not at all skittish. We admired them for a moment, until we heard another thunder clap, and we hurried back in to shore.

After we dried off we enjoyed a leisurely lunch at the Paradise Grill, one of my favourite places to get conch fritters. It was leisurely out of necessity rather than choice. We often stop there before or after a snorkel or museum visit, but usually the crowd is mainly fellow sight seers and swimmers. We are usually the locals among the tourists. It’s a great spot because you can look out over the harbour and watch the huge tarpon that hang out near the steps, while enjoying the breeze off the water.

Yesterday, we were definitely candidates for the “worst dressed” of the clientele, as well dressed families, probably straight from church, gathered to celebrate with their fathers. This time, we looked like the tourists among the locals. The place was the busiest I’ve ever seen, so the food took a little longer than usual. It didn’t matter because we were enjoying a leisurely Father’s Day lunch.

When we came home I was very happy that both our children found a way to wish their dad a happy Father’s Day. I hope they continue the tradition for many years.

How to truly retire and not become a full time volunteer

The island’s first ever International Film Festival is going to be on in a week! I was so excited when I first heard of this event! We have our passes and we are studying the schedule to maximize our time and enjoyment!

When I first heard about this I wanted to help. It seemed like a natural; I have time, I love film, I’m not allowed to have a paying job here, and everyone needs volunteers.

I emailed the organizers and voila! they asked me if I’d be interested in coordinating the volunteers. Now that seems like it would be a pretty daunting task for someone who had just moved to the island and hadn’t even volunteered here before. Not to me it wasn’t! Well, maybe a tiny bit. At risk of giving away my secret identity, I’d have to say that event planning and volunteer coordinating were my super powers. I’ve been involved in the planning and coordinating of several national level competitions, hosting athletes from all over Canada at some of them, and from all over Western Canada at others. This involved arranging the venue, organizing the necessary officials and all support volunteers, booking hotel accommodation for visiting officials and for the higher level competitions, planning receptions and awards ceremonies. We sent out notices to participating clubs with all the necessary information and processed the entries and seeding. We planned the food for volunteers and officials and ensured there was emergency medical staff in attendance.  The list goes on. It took a team to organize this level of an event, but I do know a few things about volunteers.

I went to meet the organizers, having just returned from a vacation and finding our car in urgent need of a service, in a bit of a flustered state. Our internet wasn’t working when I arrived at home and I was making daily trips to the coffee shop to check my email in a car that I was more than a little concerned about. I must have made a really bad impression. In retrospect, I wondered if I was expected to bring a resume or references, or go over my past experience. That hadn’t occurred to me because it was for a VOLUNTEER position. I have never felt the need to sell myself on a volunteer job before. On the contrary, it took me and my co-planning/organizing superwoman partner a couple of years  to train people to replace us.

When I say partner I mean that strictly in the sense that we worked together on several events! She was amazing with the small details of planning and contacting the outside support people, and with coordinating our committee. I coordinated, contacted and confirmed all the volunteers, and knew where and for how long they’d be needed, who had the skills for certain positions, and how many “back up” people we should have, and how we would keep them hydrated and fed.

So at this film festival meeting, it’s quite possible that my own reservations about taking on the job gave them reservations about trusting me to take on the job. I don’t exude confidence, especially after a harrowing trip across the island in a car that is trembling. Perhaps I had a moment of  “Can I do this without my superwoman partner who is so good with the details?” So after I thought about the job for a couple of days and contacted them, offering to do it, I understood their decision to hire an event planning company instead of having little old unknown me do it for free. I was probably secretly relieved, even though I’d been drawing up sample spreadsheets of the various screening locations and positions that would need to be filled.

As much as I understood the “rejection” of my services, which they had asked for in the first place, and as much as I’ve enjoyed some time to settle in without the added stress of being part of a major event involving hundreds of volunteers, I couldn’t help feeling a little bit like I’d lost my mojo.  I hope I responded graciously although I thought,”It’s your loss because I would have done a fantastic job even if it killed me!”. I was just a little disappointed that I hadn’t even been asked to be a worker-bee volunteer. Apparently this island has a phenomenal volunteer force and they didn’t even need me to be an usher or take tickets or clean up garbage after the shows. Maybe I made a really bad impression!

Wait, who am I kidding? I was once again relieved that I hadn’t been called upon to volunteer. My enthusiasm for the project had come from a sincere desire to work with the organizers. You see, they made a very good impression on me! I would have done this major project if it killed me and in truth, it probably would have killed me! In retrospect, I realize that my favourite volunteer moments have come doing the small jobs that use my technical skills; the jobs I can go in and do well and go home later and forget. I only became a volunteer coordinator extraordinaire out of necessity.

Then I got an email, presumably from someone at the event planning company, asking for volunteers. She didn’t say what the volunteers would be doing, but the shifts were during festival screenings. I had to say no. I’ve been available since April, and I’m available almost all week, but once the screenings begin, I’m no longer available. We have our festival passes and we’ve been studying the schedule. There are a lot of films to see and it’s going to take some serious planning and organization to maximize our time and enjoyment!

You could say that I’ve discovered a new super power; being able to say “No”.



Catching a little Cayman Culture

I took my own advice this rainy weekend and my Husband and I went to the National Museum. We’ve been a few times over the years, but the most recent was almost a year ago. The permanent exhibits are worth a visit, and we’re happy to take any interested visitors there. I’ve also recommended it to anyone interested in the history of the Cayman Islands. There is no charge for residents on the first Saturday of the month.

On this visit we only had time to see the current exhibit, Towards 2050, Living in a Sustainable Cayman, and to browse a little in the gift shop. I learned a little bit about the Blue Iguana, or the Blue Dragon as they call it. The Blue Iguana recovery program has a sponsorship or “adopt a blue dragon” program. I thought it would be pretty cool to adopt a blue iguana until I saw the price tag of $500 per year. I could name one for $1000, but what would I call it?

The Blue Iguana lives almost exclusively in protected areas. It is threatened by rats and feral cats, which eat the eggs, and feral dogs. They grow much larger than the common or green iguana and there are some distinguishing features to help recognize which is which. The blue iguana does not have black rings on the tail. They have no spines on the dewlap, the flap under the chin, and they never have the large circular scale on the cheek. Those features would all indicate a green iguana.

The population of the Blue Iguana was at one time estimated to be fewer than 50! It is the most endangered iguana on earth.

As for the green iguanas, I’m sure there are at least 50 living in this area right around our building and pool right now. I chased a very large green iguana away from the pool today. It was so big it could hardly squeeze itself through the fence, but it sure could move quickly. I’ve seen several smaller ones scurrying off through the shrubbery when I walk by.

The sustainability exhibit also mentioned the idea that Cayman culture is being replaced with the cultures of the many nationalities moving here. I see a very strong Jamaican influence, but North Americans are making their mark. There is a new “Thanksgiving” holiday to mark the end of hurricane season. The long standing Sunday “rest” day is currently under review to allow the opening of certain stores.

What really interested me was the promotion of and growth in the tourist industry. One flyer, describing the couple who had saved up for a vacation on their dream island, encouraged locals to give them a smile. You’ll find that friendly Caymanian attitude to this day! You don’t find people pushing you to buy things on every corner. The staff in the services operated nationally, such as the museum, Pedro St. James and the Queen Elizabeth Botanic Garden, are unfailingly polite and friendly.

I can’t help comparing Caymanian culture with the Blue Iguana. Both are fascinating and unique, like something time forgot, and both are struggling to survive on an island that is striving to accommodate thousands of visitors daily.


What else is there to do here?

When I look across the water towards George Town, I see…nothing! Everything is shrouded in mist, as if I were in the middle of a Gothic novel, or living in Scotland. The fact that it’s actually warm outside should reassure me that I’m still in my Island Paradise, but instead, it’s starting to feel oppressive!

The cruise ships that offer us some entertainment with their comings and goings may or may not be in port. Sometimes the rain lightens up enough to show us the outlines of what look like ghost ships.

It must be very depressing to come into port when it’s like this, or even worse, to be here for a vacation for a week when it’s like this. The thunder storms will prevent any water activity. NO stingrays, no snorkeling, no diving.

I know, because I’ve been coming here for four years and living here off and on, that there are things to do when it rains. It’s not “the dream” but it’s better than sitting in the internet cafe waiting for the rain to stop. I would like to offer a few rainy day suggestions.

Pedro St. James is a mostly indoor tour and includes a cleverly produced”multi-sensory 3D presentation” which covers the history of the building and in some ways, the island and slavery in the Cayman Islands. You can tour the grounds and building and if it isn’t too stormy you can look out over the ironshore and enjoy the sight of the breakers on the south shore.

The National Museum is another way to spend some quality time indoors. Your visit starts with a short film about the people and history of Cayman. They have several permanent exhibits and one area devoted to changing exhibits. The gift shop is a great place to buy jewelry made of Caymanite, the local stone.

The National Gallery is home to the National Collection of Caymanian art, as well as changing exhibits of local and international pieces. The outside entrance passes through a sculpture garden and to one side there is a labyrinth.

The car museum in West Bay, the Cayman Motor Museum, is unfortunately closed for renovations over the summer months. This is the private collection of Andreas Ugland, which he has chosen to share with the Cayman Islands and visitors to the island.  I’ve been twice and it’s a must see for car lovers, if you should be lucky enough to be here when it’s open!

I know you can see a movie almost anywhere, but if you’ve been to the museums, the gallery and Pedro St. James and it’s still raining, there is a cinema in Camana Bay showing new release movies. The Cayman Drama Society does a variety of live performances throughout the year if you’re looking for evening entertainment beyond the clubs. That said, many hotels and resorts do have regular entertainment planned, so check out what is going on at the various resorts.

I really hope you don’t need any more rainy day suggestions than that! I hope that if you’re ever on this beautiful island, that you will be blessed with the weather to do whatever you’re dreaming of doing and to enjoy the sun and sea!




TGIF still happens

Friday! There is something about Fridays that stayed with me long after I had to work Monday to Friday. When our kids were young, Friday was my day to get the paper, read the entertainment section and do the crossword. I’d go to the video store and pick out two movies: one to watch with the family and one for the adults to watch when the kids were in bed. We’d all make pizza together and set up the TV tables and have Family Pizza and Movie Night. We still do that sometimes, without the kids. It’s more like Couple Pizza and Movie Night. If either one of our kids is visiting, it’s grown up Family Pizza and Movie Night.

Fridays in our new life are a clean start, literally. For the past four years I’ve known when it’s Friday, because without fail, someone shows up and cleans the pool deck and all the sidewalks and landings. Later, a crew from a pool service shows up and cleans the pool. Somehow, no matter how dirty the pool may be, no matter how many leaves have found their way in and how many iguanas have had their way, those guys can get the pool clean! I so look forward to that first swim in the freshly cleaned pool.  Maybe I look forward to it a little too much.

Last week I had a busy week running errands and getting the car serviced while my husband was in Canada visiting family. I had big plans for Friday, or rather NO plans. I was going to sit on the deck for meals and do some writing while watching for the pool guys to come, so I could jump in as soon as they were done. I’d swim my lengths, then sit by the pool, reading a good book, occasionally jumping back in to cool off.

I should never plan anything here, or at least I should have a Plan B.

Last Friday, the pool guys didn’t show up. “It’s Friday!” I kept telling myself. I got a lot done, watching for them all day. When I finally gave up, put my goggles on and started my swim in the unclean pool, I had about 10 minutes before the rain started. I know, I was already wet, but I’m always cautious about being in water when there is a chance of lightning. By the time I got out of the pool, within seconds, my towel was soaked. I waited in the rain to make sure there was nothing electrical happening. When the sky cleared a little, I finished my swim. I didn’t sit outside with my book, which I’d fortunately left inside, or it, too would be soaked.  I came inside and showered, didn’t feel like driving to the video store for a movie and didn’t feel like making pizza for myself. My Friday was not exactly how I’d planned. It was okay, but why didn’t they clean the pool? It was FRIDAY!

All week I kept hoping they would come and clean the pool, maybe on a different day. By Tuesday, I gave up hope and watched the sheets of rain fill the pool to the brim.The rain has hardly stopped since then.  At least the rain water is diluting the filth.

Today the sky was clear in the morning, long enough for me to swim lengths. The pool hasn’t been cleaned yet, almost another week later, but no more iguanas have come to visit. The thing about rain water is that it’s pretty cool. The pool is heated by the sun and we haven’t had much sun for three days. I had to remind myself that I’m Canadian! I can take a little cold! The swim felt great, and oh, so refreshing!

The rain is coming down again. Every now and then it starts raining harder, just to remind me that it’s still raining. I’m pretty sure there are flood warnings, and the mosquitoes are going to be horrific when this rain stops. I’m trying to be productive while I’m “trapped” indoors. Still, I watch for my opportunity to be out in that pool. I can accept it when nature messes up my routine, but this is where spontaneity comes in.

Tomorrow is another Friday. Maybe the pool will get cleaned. If it does I’ll go out and bask in the cleanliness,  but I won’t plan my day around it. I will plan to pick up a movie and make a pizza, just for old times’ sake.



What do we do here?

What do you do there?

Sometimes it’s asked in a curious tone by those who genuinely want to know whether we are working here or how we entertain ourselves. Do we dive? Do we golf? Do we sit around drinking with pirates? (I do, he does and not yet.)

Sometimes it’s “What do you DO there?” as in how can you possibly fill your day on a small island of 50,000 people when you aren’t working?

I could say that we’re retired, so we do whatever we want. I could reply that I do the same thing I did in Canada, but without being cold or battling snow and ice. Neither is strictly true.

Let me first of all say that I never have problems filling my day, no matter where I am. True, I’ve never had to live in a small jail cell with no access to books or internet, but if I did I could do yoga and meditate. I would write stories in my head.  I can be as sociable as anyone, judging from my latest off-island trips, but alone time is what keeps me sane. I read, write, swim, work out, and I do yoga. I don’t have enough time in a day to do everything I want.

My perfect day would start with a swim or yoga, followed by breakfast and coffee on the deck. I could easily stop there.I could sit on the deck for hours, watching the boats coming and going. We can see the cruise ships heading to George Town and check the port authority schedule to find out their names, where they’ve been and where they are going next. We see dive boats scattered across our horizon. Sometimes I’ll stay outside and write. There is something inspiring about the water, whether it’s calm and still or crashing onto the ironshore. The colours change with the light during the course of the day, making for fabulous photo opportunities. I wish I could paint it.

I could spend most of a day sitting on the deck on iguana watch, chasing them away when they get to the pool area.

If the internet is working well, I might take advantage and catch up on news, especially to do with football(soccer), tennis and speed skating, and any TV shows I’ve missed. If we have errands to run or if it’s a market day, I find it best to head out in the morning. If there is a game or sporting event that we want to see on TV, it’s usually in the afternoon.

During the course of running errands we’ll often go out somewhere for lunch, stop and check the mail at the post office on the way home, and pick up anything we need at the grocery store. We still have video stores here, so we’ll sometimes rent a movie.

We can even go to a movie at the theatre  in Camana Bay if we want to catch a new release. We have to be quick, though. Movies don’t stay at the theatre for long here, unless they are animated or action movies. That’s just a reflection of the island demographics.

If I’m really lucky, I’ll have time to do yoga or a workout in the afternoon, followed by a swim if I didn’t go in the morning. There is always something to do around our home, as in any home. We have laundry, bathrooms to clean, floors to vacuum and meals to prepare. We don’t eat out as often as we did as visitors. We love to find local produce and prepare our own meals.

We try to keep up with what’s happening on the island. We go to the parades during Pirate Week and Batabano, we take part in A Taste of Cayman, we try to see the new exhibits at the National Museum and the National Gallery, and we attend the plays performed by the Cayman Drama Society. The island is full of talented people. We already have our tickets for the first international film festival to be held in June.

The island is also full of fun things to do, especially in the water. I love to dive, and we’ve tried kayaking, paddle boarding, and my husband’s favourite, snorkeling. If it’s calm behind our place, we’ll go for a snorkel. If we have our hearts set on going out, and it’s too rough at our place, we’ll find another spot nearby or make a day trip to the north side. Sometimes we’ll go for a walk on the beach.

What we do also depends on the seasons. Yes, we have seasons! Flexibility is key! There are days, like today, where the sun doesn’t come out for hours. We watch the sheets of rain until gradually we begin to see some definition in the horizon.  Instead of the vivid tones of green, turquoise and navy, we see variations of grey and white giving way to dull green and charcoal seas and pale grey sky. Those days are almost as fascinating to a prairie girl as they are depressing. Today, we woke up in semi-darkness, surprised to find it was already after 9 AM! The rain was pouring, not in drops but in a steady wash. My first thought was “I guess I won’t be swimming this morning.” I then spared a moment to sympathize with the cruise ship passengers. If this rain continues, I have some sewing projects I could get started on. Flexibility!

Every day at sunset(well, except maybe for days like today!) we go outside and enjoy the glorious pink and red sky. Sometimes it just gets dark and the clouds cover the sunset completely. The sunset moves throughout the year, from over the water to behind the trees, but it’s always  around supper time. After a lifetime in Canada, where the length of a day varies by several hours between seasons, this is still a novelty to me.  In the evening we can look at the stars or enjoy an unexpected display of fireworks.

A lot of our time is spent just getting things to work, or finding things we need, like the right light bulb or the right replacement part for an appliance. Sometimes we have to be patient with the pace of life here, whether it’s getting a credit card or getting the internet to connect. At those times, it’s best to turn off the computer, get something to drink and go out on the deck to watch the birds and the boats. Oh, and once we get to know them better, maybe we will spend more time with the pirates!

And what do you do where you are?




Birds, Boats and Ironshore

IMG_5642Escape the Canadian winter forever and live a simpler life! That’s what we’ve  talked about for our entire married life.  I heard it from my husband before we were even married, and over the years his need to leave the cold behind has become more and more pressing. Like many northerners and Canada Geese, we tried to take annual winter vacations. After our birds left the nest, almost thirty years after we first started to dream about it, we decided to move permanently.

Birds, boats and ironshore are what I see when I wake up. If you’ve ever been on a Caribbean cruise and stopped at a beautiful island, surrounded by clear, turquoise water, you can picture my home. In fact I’m probably watching your cruise ship as it arrives in the morning and leaves at sunset. I also watch the birds. Some of those birds are like the cruise ships, just passing through. Some stay a little longer, like our winter residents. Some live here, like us.

This wasn’t my idea, but I supported it. Why not? Who doesn’t want to live in paradise?  Over the years, we vacationed on many beautiful islands, always in summer when school was out. They were family holidays and we snorkeled as a family, explored as a family, and had “pool days” where we’d stay at our temporary home and play or read by the pool as a family.

For our children, these were summer holidays. For my husband they were reconnaissance missions. Could we live here?  Would we want to live here? What is the cost of living? What are the residency requirements? How safe is it? Are the locals hostile?

So here we are in the Cayman Islands, empty nesters,  living the dream as my daughter puts it. Happily Ever After is for fairy tales, though, and we are not living in a movie. What happens after the protagonists sail off into the sunset? After all, the ironshore landscape may very well have inspired the name of the district known as Hell, and it does get very hot!

Don’t worry, this is not a horror story. I often feel like the luckiest person in the world, but luck had nothing to do with moving here. You could pack up your car and move to any number of warm places without any planning or preparation and if it all works out, that’s luck! Our move to Grand Cayman took years of planning, research and paper work. I am lucky in my family, friends and choices in life, and in the fact that I think I could be happy living almost anywhere.  Will that be true of my new home? Stay with me through this adventure and we’ll find out!