Archives for the month of: March, 2011

I’m lying in bed breathing deep, listening to sounds of traffic, dogs barking, groans and grunts of this strange house, thinking.

Thinking about the funeral, my gram, what the day will bring.

My dad’s friend, our family friend said last night “sleep in on Thursday morning, bex, nothing to do in the morning. sleep.”

I do, I did.

Now I’m just lying here, loving the hum of the AC, the sound of my own breaths inandoutandinandout and feel my heart beating between my breaths.

Even in the cool air, I can feel the heat creeping on my skin, into my body and I can tell today is going to be a trial. I’m going to soak up the cool for as long as possible and I’m going to take things…slow and easy. I’m going to appreciate “Island Time”.

Break open a book and indulge in some morning reading, before breakfast.

I last until 7:30am and then get going on the day.

Shorter shower, apply three layers, 3 layers!, to my skin – moisturizer, sunscreen, bug repellent. Too many layers, I’m afraid for a moment my skin won’t breath, that it will forget how!

Can skin forget how to breathe?

Breakfast is light, two pieces of toast, black tea, grapefruit.

I’m alone at the table, the TV is on, so I also indulge in some reading at the table, during breakfast. Trinidad is stripping my manners away. This heat is making me rude.

Miss Manners would not approve.

When I get word, we go.

Chores first – looking for a cheese grater and not finding an appropriate one. Bank next – I wander off to the drug store, I like looking around stores and labels and product differences. Biggest difference in the drug store – the hair care aisle. There are so many “hair relaxing” products I’m a bit appalled.

Did you see the movie “Good Hair“?

Then you know where I’m coming from on this.

We arrive at the house and I’m out and am straight for the fridge for a glass of cold water – the heat is creeping in again.

As no one else is quite functional, I snag the downstairs hammock and crack open the book. There isn’t really anything more for me to do – the house has so many of us and not enough chores to go around.

Yes, I’m being lazy.

Yes, I should be more industrious.


Dad comes by with fruit, some kind of apple? cut and seasoned with salt and pepper and served in a bowl.

We talk.

Dad wanders away and the radio station is changed.

I swing back and forth in the hammock, back and forth under the house and read.

Lunch is breadfruit with salt fish and salad – what we are currently calling “salad” – with some seasoned cucumbers.

My appetite is poor, the heat always takes it away. I’m afraid it will disappear.

Dad suggests red wine with my lunch, he is having beer, so ok.


My spot in the downstairs hammock is taken while I eat and drink and you know what?

There used to be another hammock around here, somewhere. The trick is finding it.

Hey! I find it.

First place I look, which is good ‘cuz I don’t have the energy for an Adventure, no matter how small. The heat takes away my love of Adventure as well.

Stupid heat.

I stretch out, get caught up and swing back and forth.

My uncle comes back and brings.

Ice cream.

Coconut. Ice cream.

I miss the conversation, but when I rouse myself, someone suggests I get some. I spoon some servings out and get my own last.


Everything that coconut ice cream should be.

Rich. Creamy. Coconutty. Totally sinful.

Ice cream like this makes me sad to think what ice cream from the grocery has become.

Bring back real, true ice cream!

When I’m not in the mood for dairy, then bring back real ices!

I swing and read.

The day creeps by and the heat creeps in some more. My bug repellent reaches the end of its line and I re-apply. Take that bugs!

We get a few visitors, I stay up on the porch and let the world slip away.

I’m swinging gently, back and forth, my eyes on words, but a part of my brain, a part of my body on the first time I was here and in this hammock – the sounds of my gram and grampa in the house, music on the radio, laughter of my mum and dad and how my brother always wanted to roam the neighbourhood alone.

How things change, how we can only look back into the past, how the mind, how the body, how they overlap, how they are one, how they remember.

I remember.

I think about the stories I will tell you – my first trip here, that summer we did that road trip with my grandparents through the Rockies, which includes my first attempt at making Kraft Dinner, how grampa and Dad tried to teach me how to make roti, how gram tried again, gram’s instance that she allow Dad to arrange a marriage for me and on and on and on.

My battery runs low and I retreat back to the kitchen, the heart of the home.

More cold water.

Now it is time for dinner.

Dad is making “coco tea” and peanut butter and jam sandwiches for Mum. I will have some coco tea and Doll, Auntie Doll, my gram’s caretaker, she has made some fried plantain.

Maybe more ice cream too.


“Snow Flower and the Secret Fan” – by Lisa See, published in 2005.

This book was recommended to me by my friend Laura, who in a very short time taught me much about being and having good friends who are women, thanks Laura.

This book is about the life-long friendship between two women in 19th Century China, following them from girls, when they become “same olds” and through their lives, the agonies of foot-binding, the joy of marriage, the disappointment of marriage, traditions regarding families, child-bearing and through an unexpected and bitter misunderstanding that tears them apart.

This is a fascinating look at the fascination relationship between two women and the relationships of these women with other women in their lives – their mothers, the matchmaker, mothers-in-law, sisters, other women in the household and villages.

Of special interest is the method of communication – a secret written language, used only by women called nu shu, unique as the only written language solely used by women.

See does a great job of expressing the inner life of the main characters and how they see the world and how they navigate their personal lots in life – the characters are believable and true, without being overly romantic or sentimental. The characters are flawed and realistic and as they grow, they gain deeper understanding into themselves, the world around them and their place in it.

I’ve never read a book about women in China in this time, this being my first, I have to say how enjoyable it was, a pleasurable way to spend a mid-morning to early afternoon indeed. If you have ever wondered about the friendships of women in societies controlled by men, where their movements are restricted and where the spheres of the public and private are separate I highly suggest picking up this book.

Very enjoyable.

Up at a normal time – 5:45am, deep breathing until 6:00am, no yoga this morning, the body wants to relax a bit, so I let it.

Longer shower, larger breakfast and then it is back over to my gram’s house.

Here things move slower – mum is still being fed, dad hasn’t showered and my aunt and uncle aren’t ready yet. Ok, ok.

I get some water for me and Shiva, who is the son of our family friend and gave up his lovely air con-ed room for me, and we sit around the table and talk.

Dad hand off feeding Mum to me and, after a while of looking confused, she eats with minimal fuss. Dad says she isn’t sure what I’m doing here, I’m not normally here, so she needs some time to adjust. Ok, ok.

Dad showers, changes and sends Shiva and I with Mum before he leaves.

We struggle with her down the stairs, out the gate, up the hill, up the stairs and we are there. We get through the crowd, slowly and try to sit, we are hailed over to other seats, which we take. Mum sits between my gram’s caretaker and me, Shiva is on my other side, which an aisle seat.

Old friends and relations come over to say “hey” and give respects – oh, that I had a memory for such connections, I don’t. I listen to how longer they knew me and how they Dad or Gram and some take a moment to tell me a story or two about Gram.

That we could all perish like this – loved, with memoriesmemoriesmemories and being so loved, so admired.

Dad arrives in fine style – lookin’ good, Dad, and the room fills up with him, as the oldest son in the family, his is a position of…prestige and responsibility that I don’t envy, that I’m only beginning to understand.  As the youngest daughter, you can understand my dilemma.

The funeral happens.

I try to manage Mum as much as possible and keep an eye on Shiva as well. I have jobs to do. Manage Dad as well, although lets keep that kind of “managing” between you and me – just checking to see how he is, how his stress it, how his tears are, how he is holding up. We, as children, are sometimes responsible for our parents’ well-being too.

Songs and prayers, kind words, funny words, laughter, tears, seems like everyone here is either related or goes way, way back.

The rev finds out that he, too, is a neighbour! My aunt is pleased, it isn’t stuffy, it isn’t formal, it is…just like my gram, friendly, happy, full of laughter and “in” jokes.

Mum cries during the songs/psalms and after the first, the rev tells me we can remain seated, I take the easy out.

My uncle fries the battery in my camera.

Songs, stories, laughter prayer.

I think about faith, about how the Universe shaped my family, this part of my family, about those who aren’t here, those who went before and if those are more tears on Mum’s cheeks.

I touch the bracelet around my left wrist and think about Buddha.

Catch Dad’s eye a couple of times and.

He is holding up ok.

My gram’s body, where she used to live, her body, this unique beautiful expression of the Universe is then consigned to flame.

We venture to the back of the room and meet up with Dad = loosing himself in the crowd for a bit.

We get Mum down the stairs and we four walk back to the house together.

Ice, ice, ice, paper plates, where is the scotch, the rum, where is the mix, where is the ice?

We run around in chaos and disorganization for a bit – why didn’t someone ask me to make a list! I could have made some awesome lists you know.

I ask Dad – why didn’t you ask me to make a list?

He smiles.

He has his own lists.

Only family come to the house and after an emergency trip by one of the relatives to the store for paper plates, the wake proper begins.

I don’t know what other families do, how grief is managed.

On this side of my family grief is handled in food, rice, curry, chicken, salad served on paper plates and drinks, scotch, rum, more scotch, more rum, peardrax (no idea what this stuff is, but it tastes great with scotch, so whatever), “sweet drink” (pop), cold water, company, laughter, music, family and company.

I’m on “feeding Mum” duty for Dad. And she eats just fine for me.

People mix and mingle and tell stories, I meet people I met first when I was a small kid. A smaller kid, I mean.

Dad finally sits down beside me, we both have fresh drinks and we share a drink “To Gram, Dad.” Dad nods and says “Thank you, yes, to Mum.” We drink.

Three more drinks in and I’m drunk. Drunk on scotch, drunk on laughter, drunk of memories, drunk on learning new family relations. Drunk.

I need a moment, so I retreat upstairs.

Hotter up here, plug-in and connect.

Dad follows shortly after and pours me a glass of red wine.



My uncle needs help with the camera and I re-charge and empty the memory cards for him – remind to get this back from him, he is becoming our new family videographer.

One of these days, we will sit down with a bottle and I will tell you all about my gram, how she inspired me, how she still inspires me, how I miss her, I will miss her. Toughest chick I’ve ever met. Brave too. That I could be half the woman she was!

Dad says he is happy I came down.


It isn’t a wake.

At least, that what Dad says. Something about how he doesn’t want to “organize” a wake as with all he has to do it is too much trouble.

I think it is a wake – scotch, rum, food, family and friends, talking and laughing. Sure feels like a wake to me.

Didn’t sleep on the plane ride, but managed to get into the emergency exit row, so loved the extra leg room and, also managed to figure out how to put the seat back – there were rumours that the seats didn’t go back, so you can imagine how happy I was to dispel that rumour.

Duty free was still open when we landed and managed to find everything Dad put on the shopping list – lucky me, my uncle had the list this time.

Our ride took us right to my gram’s house, where my parents and my gram’s caretaker were waiting.

Dad looked surprised to see me, maybe he thought I would change my mind at the least minute? and greeted me with a great big hug – we both sobbed a bit.

Yes, me more than him.

Part sorrow, part relief, part just “happy to see you, I miss you, I”m fine, you’ve lost weight”.

We both go stoic.

We eat, clean, the chickens run away from me when I try to take their picture and soon I’m dismissed.

Dad smiles at me and says “yes, kid, you look tired, jet lag, go and sleep”.

I settle in at the place I’m staying and turn the AC on – I fall into bed, sealed in the bug net and just loose things for a while.

I wake and wonder where and when and why I am.

I wonder what I am.

I am sad.

And hot.

And tired.

I’m saying good-bye.

I indulge in a short shower, skip the hair, in this heat is it going up and out of my way, if we aren’t careful I will shave my head and I’m taken back to the house.

Things are quiet and while I was sleeping, plans have been made.

I’m here and it is up to me to be useful.

Dad decides he will skip tonight’s viewing at the funeral home and stay back with my mum. Up to me to go, so I go.

I don’t look at my gram, to me, she is already gone, she left her name, her body behind, but she is already gone, the body, no longer animated, no longer smiling and saying my name, anything at all, is just…there. It was where someone I love once lived. Empty house. No body home.

We are asked to proofread the program for the service and it is smooth, only a couple of comments about one of the pictures used. There are no pics of my gram and gramp together and that is a shame, there were married, they lived, had kids, raised a family and yes, even though he is long gone, he was still a part of my gram’s life and someone she talked about. There was love there. Between them.

I offer my services.

It works.

Everyone is impressed with the speed and accuracy of my actions, the solution and, while I was out, another decision was made.

I’m ok with this – I ask a couple of questions, get answers and choose my battles – this isn’t something worth fighting about.

We wait around a bit and only one person joins us. The AC isn’t great, the sun goes, the air cools, so we are back to the house.

The house, well, look “house” is a loosely used term, isn’t it. Wood frame, some of the walls are wood planks, but the outer walls are corrugated steel, it is on stilts too, and there is a place under the house where you can can go, escape the sun and cool off for a bit. I think of it as my grandparents’ house, their home, but when I was a kid, I wasn’t sure if “house” was the right word. It is more of a shack, really.

Neighbours, friends, family arrive and the bottles we brought are taken to “downstairs”. Dad gives me a warning about getting wet, he is already worried I’m going to get sick – there are things going around, he warns.

Between you and me, it isn’t the wet that will get me, it is going to be the things that are feasting on my blood – tiny, little vampires.

Cake is cut.

Sandwiches are brought out.


Dad and I coax Mum down the stairs and she keeps an iron grip on my hand, so I sit and have a drink and listen to stories and laughter as she gets comfortable.

I pry my hand loose and try to find my dad and uncle.

They are upstairs, eating dinner, no sandwiches for them.

My uncle’s battery has died, so I hand him over my camera and give him a crash course in how to use and recharge.

They are off to the funeral home – Dad needs to see her and cry.

I’m at my grandmother’s table, in her home, listening to crickets, sounds of far away cars, dogs barking in the night and people who love her talk and laugh and talk and laugh. I’m not home, exactly, but I’m not exactly away either, I’m someplace in-between, my blood, my heart, knows this place more than I ever will. I’m alone at the kitchen table, just me and you.

Did I tell you?

Today is my dad’s birthday.

Happy birthday Dad.

Another night, another airport.

Being here, waiting by this gate instantly makes me tired and suddenly, I’m a little unsure about where I am and what I country I’m bound for.

Home less than a week and then off again – I think some people are meant to roam and some people are meant to stay home, me, I’m in the middle.

Yes, that suits me just fine.

This time there is family along – my uncle, my aunt and on the other end one of my dad’s Great Friends is meeting us and, eventually Mum and Dad.

Been a while since I traveled with family, so that is kind of nice.

Traffic to airport was a-ok and we used half of the time I figured, so I’m there before check-in is available. Sit, sit and sit some more, when I do get in line, my uncle strides right up.

We find my aunt, after two failed attempts to BBM her – the messages didn’t go, but we found her anyway. Take that technology!

We putter about and another uncles gives pointers about how to use the BB – this is how you take a pic, this is video, this is how you text, phone calls are made and I’m nervy.

What if I get pulled aside for a security check?

I have to empty my laptop and yes, they sometimes ask me to open up my purse to be “swabbed”.

And just a thought here, but that doesn’t look a fresh “swab” to me – who knows how many other purses have been swabbed with that thing!

My uncle knows my dad’s requests, it seems that we got a duplicate of 1 item – toothpaste. So, now my dad has three tubes of toothpaste coming to him to last 14 days.

I ask my uncle if all they are doing is brushing their teeth after I leave, he looks at me smiles and says “Maybe. Maybe.”

He also has the order of what to bring, duty-free-wise.

Yes, I said “duty-free-wise”.

Yes, I am aware that this isn’t a phrase or real word. Too late now!

The order: rum and scotch.

Which is good that he told me before I found my way to the duty-free shop myself ‘cuz I was going to pick up something for my dad.

Yes, I was going to bring my dad rum and scotch.

Look, sometimes it helps to have people in your life who are predictable and will want what they want and not much will change.

My dad is like this.

Settling for the wait.

Hey! Someone bought snacks and iced tea!

Sunday was rushing around and packing and making lists. This time round the lists will be helpful.

Phone conversation with Dad – yes, I will stay with his friend who has AC in the bedrooms. Why? I hate the heat. The last time I was in Trinidad I broke out in heat rash and barely slept.

Yes, I am not a good Trinidadian.

I hate the cold too.

Which also makes me a bad Canadian.

Oh well.

In bed at a normal time, but awake at 4am.

Not sure what is up with that.

Lie in bed and relax and breath deeply until 5:30am and then I’m done.

Up and back to yoga – feels great. And you know that crazy hip stretch/runner’s pose? I can get both feet up under the opposite forearm.

This means I’m getting more flexible, so please be happy for me. My hips are very happy, they aren’t holding tension any more and don’t hurt. They are loose and lovely.

Breakfast, breakfast, breakfast and then on with the day!

Had to shop some – a few things for Dad, mail a letter and a few things for me.

Everything but the things for me is fast.

I hate shopping. I especially hate shopping for clothes.

Finally find two little dresses that are cotton and easy to wear, there shouldn’t be any “bexbaking” in these. My floppy hat is packed as is my sunscreen.

Nervous about the heat, but fingers are crossed.

After, it is over to my friend’s place to meet my honourary nephew now he is on the outside.

Why, hello handsome!

He mostly sleeps and looks to be smaller than his big sister – he isn’t! He is bigger!

He sleeps and I’m trying tell him “Do you remember when we saw Harry Potter and you kicked my hand?”

He isn’t having any of it.


Time to catch the ride to the airport!

Still having sleep issues, broke my rule of “no naps over 20min long!” and slept most of the day away.

Up side: Spa appointments booked for Friday, dinner plans for Monday, road trip plans for Tuesday and yes, seeing one of my dearest friends the rest of the week.

Yep, plans are perfectly on track.

After waking from the nap (it took me 2 tries), over to my bro’s place to see his family, my sis-in-law and niece.

Dinner is pizza, which I’ve been wanting and we are relaxing after and –

Phone call from my Dad.

My gram passed away earlier today.

Dad sounds so sad.

I am so sad.

We shed some tears, I’m on the phone and talk about details and what to do and does he want me to come down.

He does.

Call my Uncle ‘cuz Dad has instructed me to get on the same plane as my Uncle and Aunt – we clarify flights and get my tic.

So, yes, dinner plans canceled, road trip plans canceled, hanging with my dear friend, canceled and spa appointments to be canceled.

I guess sometimes it is true, life is the thing that happens when you are making other plans.

Leaving Monday to say good-bye.

I have no idea if this movie was any good or if it was the worst movie ever.

What I do know that if you plan on taking a nap, you should consider seeing another movie.

Seriously, the soundtrack – the music, dialogue and sound effects kept waking me up.

And not like in a “la-la – oh, deary me, it is time to get up, oh lovely la-la” kind of way, but in a “what the heck was that terrifically loud and annoying noise?!” kind of way.

From what I saw, I think this movie is a about some guy who thinks he is a writer but doesn’t have a blog (?!) and who doesn’t chose either the red or the blue pill, but goes off in a completely different direction and take a clear pill.

What the heck is up with that? Now there are clear pills for us to consider taking and mess with our reality in a whole new way? Who approved this? Not me, for sure.

Clear pills unlock 100% of human brain function so he writes a book, learns some languages, borrows money from the mob, get back together with his girlfriends, becomes a day trader and makes a pile of money.

Then Robert De Niro appears and is alternatively a bit scary and cuddly.

Yes, sometimes I think Robert De Niro is “cuddly”.

Yes, I should probably re-think my personal definition of “cuddly”.

Then some things happen and people get chased around a lot and then some other stuff happens, the guy kills a few people and then become a politician.


I’m sure I missed a few key plot moments ‘cuz I’m pretty confused about what happened between him killing someone with a grand piano (waste of piano, by the by) to running for political office.

During this whole thing, other people also take clear pills and they have the potential of their brains unlocked as well. You can tell whose brain is being used at 100% as they see everything in this golden colour and smile kind of stupidly at everyone.

Not sure what was up with this movie, I mean, the parts I saw of it.

It was either a comment on Timothy Leary or a suggestion that the best politicians are drug users.

And seriously, if you had the ability to use 100% of your brain, would you go into politics?

Just asking.

Well, if anyone else sees this movie, perhaps you would let me know what this movie was on about.

On the upside: I had the best seat in the theatre!

Awake at 3:30am and deep breathing as long as my patience held out – 5:00am.

Puttered about and ate breakfast and then puttered some more – bought some of my fav hair product, ‘cuz I’m almost out and my curls need some TLC and attention. It is so good to let the hair be curly again – it looks happier.

Today it was back at yoga – only 15min, could have done more, properly, but with the stupid waking time didn’t want to push hard.

Long, hot shower and special attention to putting the right product in the right amount in the hair. No rush, no worries.

Blow-dry hair and put some special effort in and use the diffuser.

Yes, “diffuser” does sound like some super-technical and slightly dangerous thing to be using on one’s hair.

Yes, even looking at it does kind of make me nervous.

Whatever, for hair like this, I will brave the diffuser.

You know, I’m not even sure if I’m using it properly. Whatever.

Take a gamble and try to find parking at the train station closet to my home.  There is never parking available.

I guess it is time for me to buy a lottery ticket – I find parking quickly and easily. Go me!

Train to downtown and brisk walk to meeting place.

Then wait and bit and hello!

My friend meets me and we are off to lunch. Yay lunch!

She makes a suggestion of where to go ‘cuz she knows I don’t make these sorts of decisions very well, don’t bother me with details please!, and I’m so very happy at her choice.

Yes, Swiss Chalet is pretty boring. But, you know, my taste buds are still homesick and they are trying to gather up all the tastes of home. I’m hoping for a really good curry with my bro and sis-in-law this week-end…Sometimes I wish they read this thing…

Lunch is awesome and –

My friend is  now an auntie! Wild, wild.

Of course, she is a pretty cool chick and you know she will be a very good aunt to her niece.

But, between you and me, she has a long way to go to be as cool as an aunt as I am.

Don’t worry, I will teach her what she needs to know about being a super-cool aunt.

Yes, I am generous like that.

I’m also pretty cool.

Yes, and modest.


After lunch, I walk her back and enjoy the crisp, cold air and just being in the sun – bright, cold day, this Friday. I love the bright, but I’m ready for a little less of the “cold”, so if someone would do something about this, I would greatly appreciate it.

I pick-up a couple of “thank-you” gifts to send off to people who begat me and took such good care of me, very happy that this is slowly coming together.

Then, movie. Hey, why not? It is good for me to get out there and see a few things. Besides I love catching matinees. (haha – WordPress doesn’t want to include the accent on the word “matinee”.) (Francophobes.)

No, I did not say “manatees”, but you know, thanks for asking.

Yes, I will write a movie review, please be patient!

After movie it is time to go home. I snooze on the train, which I never do, I think I’m pretty tired.

How do I tell if I’m jet-lagged vs just tired?

It is a mystery to me!

Then home.

Checked on some flights to the next trip, but the flights are all crazy with long layovers, airport transfers or price. Bummer. Maybe it is time to consider some different locations. Still. Bummer.

I’ll try it again in the am and see how things look in the morning light. Wish me luck!

Up late – slept in ‘cuz tired from the journey. Is this jet lag or simple sleep deprivation?


So, up, up, up.

Today is about putting things back together.

Follow-up phone call to the insurance, yes, yes, I’m back and need groceries, can you fix the car insurance, please? It is too cold to walk there and back. Thanks!

Get mail from neighbour – yes, yes, I’m back, thank you for the mail! Yes, I got in and shoveled the drive way. Thanks!

Phone calls and plans with friends – lunch on Friday, dinner Monday, visit on Tuesday. Yes, yes, I’m home, yes, I want to see you in person, see you soon. Thanks!

Phone call to credit card company – yes, yes, I’m home, yes, I realize my file said I was away for six months, but home now, things happen. Get a warm “Welcome home bex!” from my credit card company, they love me. Thanks!

More laundry.

Lightning visit with my sis-in-law who delivers the packages I mailed last week. Last week! It feels like so long ago! Last week. Hugs. welcome homes and yes, plans for dinner on Saturday night. Thanks!

More emails and yes, yes, I’m getting back to it. Thanks!

Long shower, intensive conditioning treatment on the hair, ‘cuz really, no one should walk around looking like this! and mud on my face. Skin and hair, body and soul feels good, recovery. Systems are coming back on-line.

Start up car to get to groceries and wait, hang on –

Vroom. Vrrrrooooommmm!

Car is happy to have me home, purrs, and someone left me about a half a tank, so need to get gas today! Thanks!

Yes, I left myself half a tank for when I got back.

Groceries, groceries, groceries.

I know where every single thing is here, I navigate easily. I bring my grocery bags and earn some points and buy my fav things, things I’ve been missing. My brand of soy milk, my brand of pickles, my second fav kind of tomatoes, my fav bread and my fav cheese. Ok, cheeses. Yum!

I go a bit wild, I think.

How much does it come to?


Yippee! I get the cashier who offers to check my points and find out that I’ve got a ton! Groceries are almost free!

I love almost free groceries.

Back home and turn on the oven and make myself an easy lunch.

Hello oven! Happy to see you too!

Eating my food, in my space and time, things are…good. Things are really good.

I am.

I am back at it.