Kenny Chesney may be right

We left Miami with a send off by the Russian cab driver. As least I thought he was Russian, or maybe from Georgia, or Slovenia or someplace that sounded, well, Russian. Actually, he was from Brazil. I was close. As we dodged in an out of traffic, my hand firmly gripping the overhead hand rail and noticing the turn signal, a unique instrument often used for signaling lane changes to warn other drivers you are thinking about moving into their occupied space, had cobwebs on it, he talked about his migration to the United States and about his dead father, which he started to get choked up over. I have no problem with that and would love to have spent time at a bar talking about Dad-dom but at the present time, I really wanted him to focus on the fact he was twenty-five miles over the speed limit, looking at me in the rear view mirror while talking, and answering the phone, of course speaking in Russian.

Sunday, yesterday, was a walk to the store. It was about a half mile away and in a building that made Costco embarrassed. Walking there, and then starting the walk back, carrying bags of groceries like we just hit the UNICEF station at the Syrian border. We would have made it back too even if it wasn't for Cap'n Nash pulling up next to us and wanting to take us back to our compound. Cap'n Nash might be his real name. It might be the name he goes by here so he can entice customers to go sailing with him. It might be his alias he is using because he speaks English with almost no accent and I am sure he is on a witness protection program out of Chicago. Nice man, fresh start, who cares if he worked for the mob as "Johnny Two-fingers Milligan."

Today the sun is out. That picture above, that is one beach of many beaches in Antigua, a poor country based almost exclusively on tourism. Too bad. Someone, could come down here and make a killing shipping 'organically grown tropical fruit' to restaurants in the US. The stuff is falling from the trees here.

I met Evelyn yesterday and Jenny today. Evelyn is about fifty, maybe a hundred and fifty. Its hard to tell. She has one semi-functioning tooth in front on the bottom. She was walking the beach with her jewelry. I will buy something from her. She needs me to buy something from her. A five dollar anything could feed her for a while. Jenny is a grandmother of eight. She was set up with a rope line outside of the Coconut Grove Bar (more about that religious place later) with colorful shirts and dresses hanging from it, along with the same jewelry Evelyn was selling. She is a grandmother of eight and when I told her I had four with two more on the way and we haven't unleashed our son and daughter in law yet in to the baby making world, her eyebrows went up. She was impressed. Family is huge down here.

This afternoon we wait for Shan (proper spelling of the name in the islands). Shan is the guy we gave $50 cash to and are banking on him showing up with horses for an hour and a half trail ride this afternoon. Even if he doesn't show, all I can say is "Well done Shan, well done."