Oh the places a hurricane will make you want to visit immediately... (part 1)

My Grandma Scott is pushing 90 years old. This is the lady who introduced me to the delicacy known as cinnamon toast and had no qualms about hosing naked kids off in the yard before letting them in the house. She had air conditioning in an era of box fans, and we enjoyed that almost as much as we enjoyed having free reign to play with whatever we wanted in the basement. Once my grandpa hired me to paint the fence for $40 and my grandma sneak helped me get it done. She also taught me not to order dessert unless I'm ready and willing to pay for it.

For such a short woman, she has lived a big life. In 1951, she drove across country with my grandpa before they were married and stayed in hotels with him! Scandalous! She's awesome, one who I cherish and do not see enough of. After my cousins and sister got to have her for a month this fall, as she was evacuating from Hurricane Irma, I got jealous and decided to go visit her in Florida.

Then I said, hey, Florida is close to the Caribbean, whaddya say Mack? He said, let's go see your grandma!

We had a great visit with the general, who wore sparkly shirts and split a pitcher of beer with us. I will always be so grateful she got to meet Mack and he got to see the ornery side of her that I am so enamored with. And that Florida is so close to the Caribbean.

Our first side trip was to St. Thomas in the US Virgin Islands. The little island was decimated by Hurricanes Maria and Irma, but it has power and roads and rental cars and hotels, so we went for it. I drove out of the airport with my "elbow in the bush" and only forgot about the wrong side of the road rule once. Or twice. Definitely not more than twice.

We headed out to the east end of the island to check into our AirBnb, a place we named the Jerkin' Station because there were so many bottles of gross man lotion everywhere. We were there about 4 minutes before we drove back to Charlotte Amelie and checked into the Bunker Hill Hotel instead. The lodging glitch gave us a quick look at the island and my god is it beautiful. Even in the aftermath of two Category 5 hurricanes, the blue-green hue of the ocean and the bursts of islands on the horizon was unlike anything I've ever seen.

Of course we had to check out the marina, which was conveniently located next to a place selling $8 cups of coffee and $6 bottles of water. The marina was tucked into a huge bay called Vessup Bay, but even with the protection of the bay half of the docks were ripped apart or partly sunk from the hurricanes. We looked at the beautiful boats and walked the docks while drinking our coffee, and we spotted huge tarpons and even a nurse shark in the crystal clear water. 

We spent our first night at a little dive bar near the water enjoying a Virgin Islands beer... made in Portland, Maine. The walk to the bar was a little drizzly so I ran ahead of Mack and waited for him under awnings. One of the awnings I stopped at belonged to a bar playing the raunchiest music I've ever heard of in my life, but the guys out front were jovial and made room for me with "don't let the sugar melt." Apparently St. Thomas is like top 4 for murder in the world, but that seems hard to believe. Aside from the rental car lady who spoke literally zero words to us, everyone was pretty nice, there were chickens everywhere with baby chicks, and this is what one of their weeds look like. 

The streets of Charlotte Amelie were beautiful, especially at night when the shops closed up and you got to see the different doors all latched up. The roads heading away from the seaside were steep and narrow, and from our hotel patio, we watched cars defy gravity going up one that looked like it was at an 80-degree incline!

St. Thomas neighbors St. John, an island that is mostly a national park. We took the car ferry there for $30 round trip and I got the reversing experience of a lifetime. Huge trucks were taking the car ferry between the islands to transport recovery supplies and refuse back and forth, and we had to cram in there with them. We were so close to the wall at one point I had to climb out the window to get out. No way was I riding inside the car next to those death traps! We perched on a bench by the pilot house and got an amazing view of the Virgins.

St. John was amazing. After lunch overlooking the bay, we headed into the park and hopped from one beautiful bay to another. There was a polar vortex hitting the Northeast of the US, and the effect in the Virgin Islands was huge swell. Snorkeling was out since I'm not a fan of drowning, but we walked along the different beaches and looked at coral and shells and felt the soft white sand smooth under our feet. All throughout the exploration we were stalled by donkeys hanging out in the road, which was hilarious to me. A couple of times their dongs were hanging out and my god I feel so bad for lady donkeys now.

Trunk Bay. This sand was like a cloud.

You see that dong back there on the left, practically dragging the ground? HOW COULD YOU NOT?

We managed to fit in some learning on St. John, too, with a stop at the Annaberg Sugar Mill ruins. Danish plantations occupied the island in the 18th and 19th centuries and the Annaberg Sugar Mill shows just what they were up to. After harvesting the sugar cane, they used a giant windmill or horses, depending on the weather, to crush it up and get the sweet juice. Which we are not supposed to let melt on rainy nights when we're awning hopping.

Just an awesome tree at the mill.

All those little rocks and big rocks and bricks. Walls 3 feet thick. I am too weak for back then. 

The windmill has lost its blades but it's still pretty extraordinary. I love ruins.

See above about loving ruins.

Oh those? Those beautiful islands out there. Oh, that's just part of Britain.

Driving away from the sugar mill we went thru a patch of mangroves that was completely de-leafed by the hurricanes. There were still twisty branches everywhere, but not a fleck of green on them. Poor little virgins literally got deflowered, and while spring was starting to replenish the lushness of the island, this little patch was a bizarre glimpse at how a hurricane treats trees and bushes like a stem of kale.

St. John was small enough that we managed to make it to the east end of the island to check out Salt Pond. Mack's dad had lived there for a bit and told us it was worth checking out, and I'm glad we went. It's more village-esque, and we got to see some small spots in the throes of post-hurricane apocalypse mode. We also go to see natural sponges and an absolutely breathtaking look out over the BVIs.

We ended our day of exploration at a luxurious hotel called Estate Lindholm, which had lots of recovery workers staying there and a few buildings splayed open from the hurricanes. We drank a beer from the honor bar and sat by the pool watching the sunset over the bay. And then I decided I need to live in the Virgin Islands.

The next morning I drank coffee out on the patio looking out at the same magical bay and affirmed my decision to live in the Virgin Islands.

As I was pretending to be a millionaire estate owner in paradise reading my book, I kept hearing a scratchy noise behind me. Some people were working on landscaping but the sound seemed closer than that, almost like someone behind me. I kept looking back and seeing nothing. And then I finally spotted this little ninja. We named him George and I love him. Almost more than the donkeys.

Our hearts broke a little bit seeing sailboats washed up on the shore on both islands, but that didn't dissuade us from talking about moving Kenutu to this piece of perfection. Although if she ended up on the rocks, I don't know if I'd ever recover from that. These damn boats become almost like an old friend, and I can't imagine seeing any of my friends with a giant hole in their bodies dying a slow death with no chance of recovery. I hope these boat parents have found some peace.

Even in the face of disaster and in a state of mid-repair, the US Virgin Islands were one of the most extraordinary places I have ever been. I wanted to stay, charter boats, snorkel, swim, get sunburned, catch fish, and lose track of all the time. But we had a flight to Puerto Rico to catch!

Como un presidente

After two years of travel for work, Mack has earned some epic awards and decided to cash in on his elite status by booking us a week in Cozumel at the Hotel Presidente. I wasn't mad about it.

Our room was on the second floor and looked out right over the beach. Every day started by opening the curtains and looking out at beautiful blue water, boats full of people in pursuit of fun, and puffy white clouds. We got very spoiled and our brains were poisoned into needing to live in this kind of place.

I did manage to go do a workout most days we were there, thanks to Jen's motivation. That was literally the most productive thing I did. The rest of the time I did this.

There were two snorkeling areas, one right in front of our room and another at the other end of the property. So our day started outside our door and progressed about 500 yards down the beach, with restaurant pit stops in between. We took dips in the mostly warm water and looked at beautiful fish playing around a sunken catamaran. I even saw a sting ray fly by!

Everytime we got in the water these decent-sized silver fish came up to us and followed us around. We named them the Welcoming Committee. They'd get so close that every now and then you'd catch a glimpse of one peripherally right by your body and have a little heart attack.

Like a little Secret Service, that Welcoming Committee is.

When we got bored of laying around and snorkeling, we'd walk the grounds. In a nod of Mayan culture and iguanas, the hotel had built these little ruins with PVC tunnels for iguanas to hunker down in.

We also discovered this amazing rainforest tree, which we revisited several times throughout the week. One night we walked down there after stuffing our faces to stretch our bellies and it was full of bats. They were zipping here and there and I freaked out. Mack was like, CHILL, but I couldn't get chill with speed demons almost dive bombing my head. He tried to make me love them by saying, they're just eating mosquitos. He lies tries.

Speaking of stuffing our faces, we did that every day. At first it was twice a day, but then we started to feel extra gross so it became a snack and one face stuff. We had a Mediterranean seafood place, a Mexican place, and a beach pizza place to choose from. One night I had distilados... and a delusion that I was knowledgeable about them... at a restaurant that had this lighting feature on its menu. I have some aunts and uncles who'd love this feature (I'M LOOKING AT YOU, TINA & TONY).

After eating, dodging bats, and looking at stars, we had a little hot tub soak. Life was hard as an elite presidente. It's probably time for Mack to go back to work so we can get another free retreat.

Chicks and chirrens

Before the Peckerwoods became the best thing in my life, it was the babies. Shannon brought three of my babies for a visit after Christmas and now my absolute most favorite thing in the entire world is the babies with the chickens. It's like a double whammy of perfection.

Of note, Kieron is wearing Renee's pants and my t-shirt from a Lucinda Williams concert because we are such good adults we made them swim in their clothes at the beach since we forgot their swimsuits. But we are such good adults because they were at the beach in December.

Renee should be a farmer. She's a little chicken whisperer. And she has crazy barn hair!

These nerds and their little nerd faces. 

Oh my god. This kid is perfection. Grubby, who cares, perfection.

Renee in my leggings. We initially had her in my v-neck t-shirt from Target but it basically v-ed down to her bellybutton so her mom swapped her shirts. See above about how these kids were at a beach in December.

Renee, like Cinnamon, likes dried meal worms too. SHE ACTUALLY ATE THE WORMS! 

Look at this beautiful baby. And that boy holding her is totally handsome too.

My Sweet Little Bebe

Betsy came to California again. Her first time was to bring me and Mack out here. Her second time was to bring my mom out. And this time, it was for vacation.

About time!

It was so awesome having her around for a few weeks, going thrift shopping and taking little hikes and meeting for some Ramen after work. Most of all, though, it was amazing to hear her giggle, her wonderful laugh, her audible joy that bubbles out and brings sunshine to the world. 

We even got to do a Little Mermaid reenactment to make my other sisters jealous. We watched so much Little Mermaid when Betsy was little that to this day I can practically recite the entire movie by heart. This was back in the days of Blossom Lane, when I was 10 and she was born. She was so sweet back then too, and I remember one time when she gave me her candy. Before Betsy, I'd only gotten candy from my sisters by sneaking it, swindling it, or trading it. Betsy is a different breed of human, and man, am I so grateful to know and love her.

Dulywed: Year 11

Poppy,

Eleven years in the books. Somehow it feels like the blink of an eye but it's not because wrinkles are taking over our faces. Mine more than yours, which is a real asshole thing to do to a woman.

This past year has been one of constant change, all for the better. We got settled in our new house. You finished residency and started being a legit doctor. I got trained on being a radio nurse, finished nursing school again, and decided to raise chickens. We watched Mateo and Beatrix learn to climb stairs. Everything was going so crazy this summer that I looked at you and said, "NO MORE CHANGES." Life was happening too fast, and even for a child of divorce, adjusting to that much change, good or bad, was getting to be too much. I think you respected my no change mandate for about three days.

That is how things are between us. I'm like a giant boulder in the middle of your lake of frenzy, taking the whitewater and making a little circle of calm out of it. You are the powerboat with the jet engine going a trillion miles an hour and setting goals like "make $20 million." My goal is "don't get fat."

How did we end up together? How have we stayed together? How do I still like you so much?

Maybe it's the joy that comes with your morning jammie pants concerts, where you play the piano and wail random songs like The Who's "Athena" and Queen's "You're My Best Friend" and I declare them to be about me. Maybe it's the FaceTime chats where you call me after a 16-hour shift and pretend you're in a coffin and then make funny faces like a toddler. Maybe it's our stubbornness coupled with the ongoing battles to see who will get out of bed first and who will make the coffee. Maybe it's the Bitcoin. Yeah, it's probably the Bitcoin.

When I used to imagine what being married was like, I thought it would be romantic and sexy and loving. It's actually a lot of comfortable pants, smudged mascara, and bad breath. It's someone to eat meals with, someone who makes sure you didn't die when you were hanging a door by yourself, someone to warm the bed up at night. It's the right to shove a smart phone or a 10-pound internal medicine book out of the way to get attention. It's a series of contracts where I say, "Need more hugs," and you say, "Get a life." It's tolerance and forgetfulness. It helps to have a little mental illness, and abandonment issues, too.

It's not easy being married. Our co-dependence makes me subject to some of the deepest loneliness I've ever felt. It makes me accept being treated like a servant. It makes me chronically obligated to you so much so that I don't invest in friendships. It makes me have dreams that you're cheating on me with some blonde chick with a bob haircut. When you're away at work and I'm home doing life without you, the void is so much it's like only taking half breaths. I never wanted to feel this vulnerable, but without it, I don't think we would have this miracle of a thing that's between us. No, it's not beautiful -- often times it's downright ugly -- but it is extraordinary and magical. Okay, it's also a little sick.

The eleventh anniversary gift is steel. Seems callous and abrasive, but I get it. A marriage that long can be cold, but it can also withstand immense heat. It is strong, strong enough to bridge huge expanses of space without extra support. It can be repaired with welds. If you want something to last, to survive powerful blows and unrelenting pressure and heated emotions and all the elements that are inherent in relationships, make it out of steel.

To know that you are there, that you will know when I'm seriously in need and not just being needy, that you will share with me everything in life... there has never been anyone in my life so dependable and reliable and constant. I am so grateful to you for that.

Happy anniversary. And remember, hodl.

Looks like the chicken came first.

It took 5 months and 28 days, but somehow the dumbest girl in the flock figured out the purpose of her existence. Clove laid an egg. 

She and Ginger spent the morning screaming at each other with the loudest squawks yet. I'd go check on them and Clove would be in the yard while the other three were clustered in another area, and she and Ginger would be having a shouting match. It was ridiculous. And then, I finally got a clue.

As always, apologies for the voice. 

The girls were totally freaked out about that thing that came out of Clove's butt, so we had a talk about the birds and the bees and how they're women now and I will be eating their periods thank you very much. Cinnamon just looked at me like this.

Isaac. Almost as tall as a sequoia.

My sweet cousin Isaac came for a visit to celebrate his birthday. My mom gave him a taste of the beach life and the active life... and then she took us to get burgers the size of our heads. Someone tell me how she stays so tiny eating this way.

When it was my turn to show him around, I decided we'd go road tripping to the woods. First things first, though, I had to figure out which car he'd fit in. Unfortunately, my giant cousin didn't fit in the convertible, so he wasn't able to experience the real thrill of a road trip in Cali. Once we made it to the big trees. I don't think he minded one bit.

For scale, Isaac is like 6'4".

We did a hike around Crescent Meadow that gave us beautiful views of giant trees. 

And this little creature showed its face in a ray of sunlight on the trail along the way.

Guys, we went INSIDE a burned out Sequoia called Chimney Tree. It was pretty awesome.

After our marathon day in the woods, Isaac revealed that he hadn't yet put his toe in the Pacific. We had to fix that so we headed to Ventura. Mack was there working there so he had a hotel room right on the beach. We got a good night's sleep, then Isaac got his Cali baptism.

In a happy coincidence, the Ventura County Fair was going on next door to our hotel. We walked over to eat fair food, drink beer, and people watch. When we got back to our hotel, they started setting off fireworks, and it was like our own private show! First the deer, then the fireworks. Isaac is a magnet for that Cali magic.

The last couple days of his visit were spent in Long Beach at my house. We went down to the beach and tried ice cream made with liquid nitrogen before our very eyes at Isaac's suggestion. Between that and the burger as big as my head, Zak's trip made my pants a little tighter for sure.

We fit in one last hurrah with a visit to the Aquarium of the Pacific. Laila and I had gone there earlier this summer and loved it. It's massive and you get to touch all kinds of things... sharks, sting rays, starfish, jellyfish, horseshoe crabs. There are otters and sea lions and countless aquariums. My favorite things are the jelly fish, and I can't get over how beautiful these Lorikeet birds are.

TOUCH IT. 

This guy. Just one of the beautiful fish in just one of the beautiful aquariums there.

This guy is about 3 feet long. His lips cracked me up. There was also al little mini hammerhead looking shark that cruised through this aquarium every now and then.

Isaac's trip was six days but it felt like 5 minutes. We crammed every waking minute with adventures and barely did anything. You know what that means? He's just gonna have to come back!