Good advice, right? Common sense, right? Until you're driving down a road that you are convinced is one lane, but is actually two, and you know this only because you see a massive blue piece of iron barreling towards you at full speed with barely enough room on either side for a lizard (a small lizard, not a komodo dragon). So you stop your car, close your eyes, hear a rumble and a whoosh, open your eyes, and the coast is clear. Well, maybe YOU don't do that, but I sure as hell have, did, still do...sometimes.
One of the wonders of the world to me, is how Bajan bus drivers are able to navigate these "slim" roads at such high speeds, with few accidents, or at least fewer than there should be. I would love to get a glimpse of the driving test required to tame that beast that is the big, blue, bus; but I'm guessing that being that high up in the driver's seat, gives then a great vantage view to prey on unsuspecting 'new' drivers such as myself. And they can smell me a mile away, and do their best peek-a-boo tactics around corners when I least expect them. How they must laugh when they see me slam on those brakes, inhaling deeply, look of terror on my face. Needless to say, I would prefer to be on the bus, than driving towards one, even when I'm in the correct lane, but with enough practice, I've been able to now just stop, without closing my eyes--progress! I'm guessing that in time, I'll be whizzing by those buses, albeit, in the grass, but until then...
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
What's in a name?
So little Z has many a nickname...Boopsie, Sugar lump, Snugga, Joe Pooperd and my most favorite: Kaichu Chicken. Yes, he's a Chinese chicken dish that my husband made up all by himself. Hopefully "kaichu" doesn't actually mean anything, and if it does, hopefully it's not offensive. Either way, a red superhero cape with his moniker will soon be on it's way. If you see a little red-caped cherub flying through the air, be sure to know, he's just saved the day, or delivered someone's lunch.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
When you say wedge, I say cheese
That probably should be the other way around. Anyone who knows me, knows that I live for food, and that food I live most for is...cheese. Oh how I miss a good smorgasbord of cheese. Oh how I miss Artisinal, where I could literally eat an entire dinner of cheese, and have done so on many occassions with no regrets. Who cares about arteries? They should be happy to be Manchego-lined!
I digress. This post actually isn't actually about cheese, it's about shoes. Yes, shoes. Specifically, the wedge. Now, I'm a self-proclaimed shoe-whore with a few *cough*..ndred pairs, which I lovingly packed and shipped to my new home. Sexy stilettos, suede peep-toed, calf-high boots (I may need them for a Halloweeen costume, you never know!), some that cost more than I should have paid, others that have curled my toes, all in the name of fashion. Just hearing "those are sooooo hot!" makes you forget the pain everytime. I sit here and stare at my well-laid out heels, because that's pretty much all I can do. Stare, not wear. That's because your daily shoe here is more likely a sandal or flip-flop (Havaianas carried at Soma!), even out at night. It's just the most practical. And ladies, if you want to dress up a bit more, wear wedge heels. They just make the most sense, and everyone here knows it, including me (now). Most soirees on the island are outdoors--gardens or sand, where a well placed 3-inch will have you stuck in place for a better part of the night, or on your ass. Had I known before, I would have bought wedges in every color. And skip the fancy brands, it just makes you cry when they get covered in mud.
So that's my tip of the day: If traveling to Bim, be it vacation or move, and you want to get all dressed-up, pack some sexy wedges--and bring a pair in size 8 for me too.
I digress. This post actually isn't actually about cheese, it's about shoes. Yes, shoes. Specifically, the wedge. Now, I'm a self-proclaimed shoe-whore with a few *cough*..ndred pairs, which I lovingly packed and shipped to my new home. Sexy stilettos, suede peep-toed, calf-high boots (I may need them for a Halloweeen costume, you never know!), some that cost more than I should have paid, others that have curled my toes, all in the name of fashion. Just hearing "those are sooooo hot!" makes you forget the pain everytime. I sit here and stare at my well-laid out heels, because that's pretty much all I can do. Stare, not wear. That's because your daily shoe here is more likely a sandal or flip-flop (Havaianas carried at Soma!), even out at night. It's just the most practical. And ladies, if you want to dress up a bit more, wear wedge heels. They just make the most sense, and everyone here knows it, including me (now). Most soirees on the island are outdoors--gardens or sand, where a well placed 3-inch will have you stuck in place for a better part of the night, or on your ass. Had I known before, I would have bought wedges in every color. And skip the fancy brands, it just makes you cry when they get covered in mud.
So that's my tip of the day: If traveling to Bim, be it vacation or move, and you want to get all dressed-up, pack some sexy wedges--and bring a pair in size 8 for me too.
Ok, I'm really not a Bim-bo...
...at least I think I'm not. What I am is a displaced, big city girl, living on an island a smile wide. Seriously, a smile; Barbados, or "Bim" as it's affectionately known, is only 22 miles long and 14 miles wide (yet it can take 90 minutes to drive across the island--go figure). So what's a girl to do when her husband whisks her and a 6-week old cutie pie from bustling city streets to a 20 acre farm on an island? Right now I'm trying to figure that out.
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