And now...back to island fun (the real reason we're all here)!

1:27 am: Yes I'm awake and you want to know why?? Because I just awoke from a dead sleep as I thought I felt something brush against arm over my sheet (ironically enough, before retiring for the night, I thought "the bugs have been pretty good in the house with the exception of the ones in my crazy imagination when I dreamt ants were coming out of the showerhead!!"). You can only imagine my surprise, when I reached for my glasses, turned on the light on the bed stand (which I now have thanks to my recent visit home and stealing it from my oldest child) and found a flipping millipede on my bed! He must have touched my arm and when I turned to get the glasses, fell into the bed covers.

 

For those that don't know what a millipede is - I will explain it as I just learned a lot from a sign in the Cinnamon Bay ruins trail!

Gongolos, as they are known by some locals, are these big old millipedes with  glossy black (think patent leather) exterior that look like they should be part of an aliens movie. If that isn't bad enough, they’re also filled with acid! Of course, if you step on a gongolo, the resulting ooze is unlikely to eat through floorboards, but  if it touches your skin, it will sting quite a bit and leave a stain for as long as a month! The West Indies folks will say "you are going to get ink in your eye" when they see one closing in towards a person.

So back to my situation, I have never jumped so fast or so high out of a bed before in my life!! And what to do now??? If I kill it on the bed... well, I don't want that grossness where I sleep! So I nonchalantly (think screaming "f" bombs and shaking in my flip flops) decide to shuffle his gross body to the floor with a magazine that was getting ready to go to the trash.

Okay - alien legs is now on the floor. I kind of made up a rule that insects on the floor would be graciously saved and put outside where they belong,, HOWEVER, he invaded my bed so this could be superseded by the "in my bed at 1:35 am clause". I chose amnesty for him and decided that I would get him outside with card stock (thick enough that it couldn't bend). The SOB fell back on to the bed while I was getting him from the far side of the room towards the fresh air outside that he "deserved." As I knock him out, I mean off to the floor, he wiggles toward my foot and " fight or flight " knee jerk reflexes just took over and the card stock became my weapon. I didn't mean to cut him in half.... Really I didn't ...  

Who knew card stock was so powerful?  After sweeping his bisected self to the other side of the bed, I decided it was just time for him to go for a swim. So I am sorry, little old scary gongolo, I completely understand that while living in St John includes living with all types of insects, I cannot have you or any of your friends think they can invade my personal space- especially as I sleep!! 

Needless to say, I did not sleep much more and I kept my light on while I muddled around with the internet, Facebook, and reading, until I took a quick snooze at 4:45 - which lasted until the rooster outside my opened bedroom window decided to wake me at 5:28! 

But remember, this is paradise - so all is good!!  

For those of you who need a little science in your life, here's a thirty second clip of these guys!

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I don't feel like going back to St. John"...

Shocking? Blasphemous? Has someone lost their mind?

No, none of the above.

First off - apologies for the long wait between this and the previous blog entries. Not that much, in a "big picture" sense has transpired, but of course that doesn't mean that nothing has been going on...

Now, back to that opening statement. Those words were spoken by Leslie late last Monday night, after we'd gone to bed. Yes, that's right, in bed - together! It had been far too long that we'd been resigned to phone calls, text messages, emails, and Facebook posts to communicate. Six long weeks, longer than we'd ever been apart - by a large margin.

She had come back to Florida for three long working days with some of her physical therapy clients. After work there were rushed drives to the center of the state to see some of my family members that were staying in the shadow of "the mouse" for our biannual family reunion.

And trying to take care of some unfinished paperwork.

And trying to help me figure what we're keeping, what we're sending to St. John (and when) and what we're getting rid of (and how).

And sneaking in a quick dinner with some local friends.

And spending time with our son Shane, who she hadn't seen in months.

And spending some cuddle time with her pets, Champ and Cutie.

I'd think that she'd be anxious to get back to St. John, if for nothing else, to rest after all of that!

Still, given that whirlwind of activity, is it any wonder that we both felt that the Thursday afternoon to Tuesday morning visit afforded us precious too few minutes to spend together, in each others' arms?

All of our visits to St. John have flown by too quickly, and we're certainly not unique in that regard. I'm really happy that Leslie has jumped right in and gotten involved in the community. There are a number of kind folks on island - visitors and residents alike, that have gone out of their way to include her in their lives (and I thank each and every one of you!). I'm so proud that she has conquered a good deal of her fears and tackled the unknown. She's hurdling the speedbumps that have appeared before her and come out stronger as a result.

Things are looking up on a number of fronts. She's met a pediatrician that is establishing a "one stop" center for pediatric patients and is excited to be a part of that. She's started a babysitting service, primarily targeting visitors that may want a few kid free hours, but has already had some locals as clients.

But...this is our dream. And the stark reality is that, for the present, we aren't living it together. We still know that in the long run this will pay off. But damn, it's hard. We knew it would be, and we've been adjusting to it. But lying together in bed, knowing that in a few hours we won't be able to make those jokes to each other while appreciating the resultant facial expressions, that the "I love you"s won't be accompanied by a hug or a kiss, that phone calls, text messages, emails, and Facebook posts will once again have to take the place of dinners together, walks together, and talks together, I can understand her not feeling like going back to St. John.

But she has to go. That's the only way if I'm to join her in our paradise.

Soon come, baby. Soon come.