Its nearly 11:00 pm in Tortola and I am still living on the beach with my rather unruly dog (Buddy) who seems to be getting more head strong everyday. The beach is his territory and for whatever reason, (perhaps new found freedom) ... he seems to think there is no reason to pay attention to a thing I say anymore!
Home for Buddy and me is a lovely, 45' container with no windows but two very large doors and a 12" fan. The container is filled with sailing gear for a children's' programme I help teach in the west end of Tortola in the British Virgin Islands.
I have guests arriving at my "new apartment" (wherever that may be) one week from today ... and there is still no sign of the plumber at my new apartment! No toilet, no sinks and no running water. Until that is in place, my new landlady won't let me move in.
I suppose I should be grateful that the doors have arrived and have been installed ... but in true Tortolian fashion, the locks have gone missing. All my worldly possessions are sitting in that apartment ripe for the picking!
My landlady has given me four different dates when she promised I could move in this month, (the latest of which was last evening) ... but so far, no joy. She has stated categorically (each time) that it would be no later than Monday, Thursday ... or whatever day she picked out of the hat!
Today, she swore to me that I can move in on the 22nd of December. At this point, I'll believe it when it happens!
So just in case I am stuck in the container for any length of time... and because my boyfriend and his daughter arrive Christmas day to stay with me for three weeks, I have decorated the container with various things I found on the beach. (All my Christmas stuff is packed away with the rest of my belongings).
I have strung shells together to make a huge wind chime (of sorts) , and have spotted shells all over the place. I bought a ton of wrapping paper which I have used as wall paper inside the container, some Santa "stuff" at the local market and I built a snowman out of sand which has the obligatory carrot nose and stone eyes.
Unfortunately, it rained rather heavily last night and "Frosty the Sandman" appears to be somewhat droopy at the moment. No worries ... I will rebuild as necessary. I seem to have a lot of time on my hands right now anyway!
Oh well, Buddy (my dog) of unknown parentage but whom we think is mainly a Rhodesian Ridgeback plus a little Island mutt thrown in) seems to be having the time of his life!
We wake up with the dawn, go shelling until its time to go to work. We usually go to bed shortly after sunset. Tonight, I was too bored to sleep ... so I thought I would pester anyone who may still be up with this post. I truly love beachcombing and looking for shells, but enough is enough! Its been 19 days already! What the hell am I going to do with two bushels of shells?
Over the 19 days Buddy and I have called the container home, I have had my propane tank and a pair of shorts stolen. It boggles the mind! I understand the propane tank ... but who the hell took my shorts? The guy/girl must have had one too many margaritas. That's just weird!
God, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change , courage to change the things I can ... and the wisdom to know the difference!
Any little prayers you can send this way would be appreciated. I don't have a lot to complain about, but being in a real house (rather than a shipping container) over Christmas would really be a nice thing!
Living on a beach isn't all that bad though ... it has its "up" side. You sure can't beat the view!