Opening Eleuthera Scenes and Giant Moth

My ride to the airport was generally without issue, as it was 5 in the morning on a Saturday and traffic was pretty light. It was still a bit of a shock to see just how many other early risers were preparing themselves for their Jet Blue flights ... there were some serious lines for baggage drop off and security screenings; I was told if I had been 15 minutes later then they would not have allowed me to check my bag, which would have been quite a bit problematic. Jet Blue also has its own terminal at JFK and it was very fancy and hopping even at 6 in the morning. I abstained from any overpriced snack, though I did buy a bottle of water for the ride. As time passed, the sky went from near dark to sun lit to blue and cloudy. 

The flight from JFK to Nassau went pretty well. I made up for the lack of sleep I was able to clock in on Friday night by sleeping through the majority of the four hours in the air. Once in Nassau I went through customs, picked up my baggage (which was not on the labelled carousel for my flight thus causing me to have an almost heart attack about missing my connecting flight to Eleuthera), and headed to local section of the airport. I should have taken photos because the comparison between the facilities available in the international terminal and those offered once you get to the facility geared more towards actual Bahamians is striking. Everything's run down. The light's bad. Seats are torn up. Coffee's self-serve (horrors!). Just a very different vibe. I took Pineapple Air to Eleuthera, bought some beer, waited to be picked up and then had an entertaining conversation about love with the dude who picked me up/set me up with my rental van. He was one of many to ask me if I was married or had a boyfriend within five minutes of saying hello. Eleuthera is not an island accustomed to single women it would seem.  

I ultimately arrived quite safely at Edge of the World's Tamarind Cottage in Gregory Town. I had found the place through TripAdvisor and had every expectation that it was going to be a great place to call home for the next six days, and that certainly turned out to be true. Kimy and Terry are wonderful proprietors and seriously welcoming. They've created a wonderful haven that I very much am glad I was able to share for as short a time as it was. It was a little sad making that the weather was decidedly not sunny nor terribly warm upon my arrival. I had only leggings and two light sweaters among my wardrobe for the trip and wished that I had decided to pack two less sundresses in favor of one pair of jeans, because those first two days were super windy and rainy. This is me soon after arriving at the cottages. My bangs are being pushed aggressively by the wind. 

There were three cottages on the property, in addition to our hosts' own house. The property was right on Gregory Town's main harbor/cove area. A short stroll down a bromeliad and palm tree laden hill brought me to the property's deck.

I thought I'd take advantage of this deck and its complementary kayaks at some point, but this turned out mainly to be the spot I'd enjoy when I first woke up. I'd walk down with my earl grey tea and mystery novel and just adjust to the morning before heading out to other beach vistas.

The view of town.

Sunday was also a bit of a wash in terms of adventuring during the day. It was just very rainy and there would be these thirty second views of the sun followed by much more prolonged bouts of rain and wind. I basically just holed up in bed reading for the majority of the day. Venturing out from time to time whenever it seemed like there was a break in the clouds. This was my front door view.

You know I logged some quality time sitting on this porch.

On Sunday evening I decided I'd go out for dinner and make vacation friends, but first I had to stop at the town's convenience store for a bit of gas. There I ran into Wallace, from whom I was renting a van and with whom L. and I spent some time last year. He told me my intended destination was closed and invited me to a party instead. I was hesitant to go as I don't necessarily thrive in environments where I know no one, but I thought 'what the hell' and ended up going. That experience was definitely something to write about in more depth in another space but for now I think I'll be doing a pretty Cliffs Notes version. The house/party was out on Whale's Point and it was quite a beautiful location and had a great view of Harbour Island.

The wind was serious and it got quite cold once the sun began to set.

The party was just a very strange thing. A weird mix of folks who seem pretty happy with being very insular. The best conversation I had was with another 'outsider' - a contractor from Canada. I could only enjoy myself so much when surrounded by a generally indifferent group of strangers and soon was ready to go. Wallace was kind enough to drive me back to my car, which I had left at a restaurant a few miles away at his suggestion -- basically I think I would have enjoyed myself more if folks seemed more interested in conversation with an unknown (me) and/or if I had the freedom to leave without having to rely on someone else, but Wallace had said that the roads were rather rough for my van (questionable)  . In any case, it was still neat to end up at a party my second day on the island. I never get invited to strange parties in Philly, and that's a shame.

Once I returned back to the cottage I made myself a cheesy snack and retired to my lofted bedroom to read. The winds were howling so I battened down the hatches and snuggled deeply into the sheets and quilt, reading a Margaret Maron novel. At some point I looked up at the screened window closest to the bed and saw this sight. So huge! Made sense that this moth would want to get a little respite from the winds outside but I noticed that it seemed to have pooped a bit on the edge of the bed, which looked at first like bleach spots. While I considered just leaving it alone I ultimately decided I didn't want to be pooped on by a giant moth while I was sleeping, so I gently scooped it up and returned it to the outdoors. So crazy.

Subway Sandwiches, Lethargic Falls and Butterflies

On Friday K. and I made great progress in terms of making choices about what to keep and donate of my mother's clothes. Once all the decisions had been made, we got ourselves together for a trip to Foster Falls. We stopped off in Monteagle for sandwiches, then stopped in Tracy City to donate Mom's things. Then finally we made it to Foster Falls. We ate our sandwiches once we got to the bottom. I had a veggie foot long. Tasty in that way that subway sandwiches can be.
The water was disappointing in its overall levels, as was the case when I stopped by last August. I understand why. If it doesn't rain, then there is a clear problem with a water fall's supply/demand ration, but it was still a bummer. Foster Falls at its best is bracingly cold, clear as can be and moving at a nice pace. The Falls so thunderous that though you can manage to swim right up to where the falling water meets the pool, it's a work out. The day we were there, however, the water was barely moving in the pool, allowing tree debris to lie on the surface in a slightly less than pleasing way. A touch stagnant. Didn't stop me from getting in of course ... just stopped me from staying in for very long. K. did not go in but she was a good sport about it.
Seems that this here is called puddling.
Pretty butterfly I will not think about your unseemly and terrifying origin story.
You can see that this hardly even counts as a water fall, whereas this trip to the falls in 2009 is proof that Foster Falls does indeed fall from time to time.
fro

Greeter Falls Success, Day 2

The following day Cousin H. and his wife C. suggested a repeat journey to Greeter Falls. I had zero arguments with this suggestion. Zero. Nada. Nil. If he hadn't called, I would'a gone back on my own. Greeter Falls and I are destined for each other. In the summer. Maybe.
While the falls weren't totally on 11, they still could sting/soothe if you got exactly under where the majority of water was falling.
I brought a zoom lens on this trip.
I would like you to note both dogs looking on. Lincoln is but a black shadow, but you can make out his mouth if you look closely.

I asked H. to take some additional photographs of me with the zoom camera, and I"m pleased with the result. I wanted my own 'cc under the water falls moment' and it was wonderfully documented. I wasn't even under the worst of it and I felt like I was having a nice massage.

This is my favorite picture of right now. I am diving into the water. I can't decide if that's obvious from the photograph or not. I mean, does it just look like I'm belly flopping? Because I'm not. I'm diving into the water from an underwater stone flatform like an otter. Like an otter I tell you. Graceful. Lithe. Divey.
When I first went into the water I noticed these ginormous spiders. I decided not to take photographs or try to enter the main swimming hole by having to step nearby these spiders. I regretted not taking photographs, but I was a'fraid. When I finally came back to look again, and they hadn't moved at all, I thought I could at least take a photograph. I didn't poke them. I didn't prod them. I assumed they were dead, but they could have been in the midst of the most epic staring contest this world has ever seen. I mean, eight eyes against eight eyes? The chances of blinking must be astronomical!

Snail

I have hazy but clear memories of snails in Sewanee when I was a kid. My grandmother kept a few brain corals outside the house, and the snails hung out nearby them...not on them, but nearby. Pointless memory. Anyways, this snail was a good four feet above the ground on one of the living room's windows. Wish I could have gotten a better shot.

One Part Terrified, One Part Prepared

Wednesday (that's the day the chipmunk stuff happened as well) I was vacuuming the same corner that Zul had used to get the chipmunk in line when I moved a curtain a little to see this terribly large spider.
Two years ago I had an experience with a spider down here that still haunts me, so I was prepared. Being prepared, in this case, means running to quickly get a quarter in order to help people gauge the size of this monstrous arachnid. Being prepared, in this case, means knowing that the chances of killing this spider without nine million more popping up were pretty well non-existent.
So I took pictures of the thing then left it alone. I thought about vacuuming it, but then imagined a colony of spiders living inside my mother's vacuum cleaner and decided that was more terrifying than just leaving the spider in the corner, which is exactly what I did.

Meander

On Saturday I drove on down to Roark's Cove to meet up with my cousin and his wife. We were meeting up so's we could go to Greeter Falls for a little swimming. I got to their place early, knowing they were out buying a mower, and took a stroll around the property.
If apocalypse came, this is one spot I'd surely try to get to.
Again, my lack of gardening prowess does not make me a hater. The time H. and C. put into making their land so enviable is not lost on me. I wish I could say that I would be as active in landscaping any land I might purchase, but the truth is that would probably do the most rudimentary of planting, never put together a unified visual, olfactory and tactile experience. What? My problem is that if I see something pretty, I want to sit in it without having to maintain or support it.

Bumble, bumble.
I'm a little bummed about being in Tennessee now - as opposed to later in the summer - because I'm going to miss fresh corn and tomatoes. I'd cry about it, but look at all I get to see. I know when I'm lucky.

Things I have seen in my back yard or in others': at least three different kinds of wood peckers (big and pileated among them), blue tailed skinks, red finches, deer, one foxoyote, countless blue birds, terrifyingly large bugs, a hawk or falcon with black and white tail feathers, a shower spider, chipmunks, bluejays, birds with names I don't know etc.
After taking photographs, I plopped into a hammock and read a book (Richard Price's Freedomland...I've been reading this book for months, I can't not know how it ends, but I don't particularly care) in the sun until they arrived.

Argh!

Something bit my foot yesterday...on the bottom of my foot...and it itches like mad. It's a mad itching in such a terrible location. Well, I guess worse locations exist. Like the armpit or innermouth. Can you imagine if a bug bit you on the inside of your mouth? Oh my goodness. I didn't go to the library today for any job applying or photo blogging. Simply a movie getting. I just watched Charlie and The Chocolate Factory for the second time. Johnny Depp is such an interesting Willy Wonka. I think I'll have to re-read the books to know whether he or Gene Wilder reflect the actual book character's personality more accurately. Or I'll simply wonder without doing any thing about it. Right now I'm trying to decide if I'm hungry...I don't think I am. I'm also trying to figure out why so much of television is so lame. So many reality shows and I just don't get it. They are not like a car crash, I can look away. I am properly excited about the Harry Potter movie coming out tomorrow. Though I may not go see it tomorrow. I want to see it at the drive-in, I think. Basically I'm in between activities/non-activities to amuse me. So this is what I'm doing. And now that I've admitted my lack of ability to properly entertain myself I'm going to go try to entertain myself.

Bugs Are For Terrified Babies

This is the terrifying beetle I found in the living room last night. It was gigantic and huge and scary. Next to it is a shoe. And as much as I thought about killing it, I didn't...mainly because it would have made some terrible crunchy crunching noise that would haunt me in my waking moments and sleeping ones. Ooooga!

Our Lady Of Perpetual Sweat

These are some photographs mousehead took whilst we were in Tennessee a few weeks back. Immediately below is the bug we found in the house...at first we thought cicada except for the moth like wings then we thought moth except for the cicada like body. The boyfriend weighed in on the photograph and declared it a freshly born moth. It was leaking. I put it outside and wished it well.
This is a photograph of the house during a rain storm, note the torrential stream of water making its way off the roof. This storm, like most in Sewanee during the summer, lasted no longer than forty five minutes.
We barbequed twice while there, how could we not with a wonderful natural rock patio and not so awful heat...speaking of awful heat, it's awfully hot in Chicago...has been for three (two?) days, today the heat index will make us feel like it is 104-109 degrees. Clearly we're not as bad off as some of the western states or southern states but nonetheless man it's hot.
The boyfriend mentioned how sad it was that the camera is still out of commission as we've had quite a few meals of note lately. There was the porkroast with sauerkraut, the Hama Matsu sushi extravaganza, chili and other such things. Soon, or at least that's what they said when I called last week.

In other news the boyfriend and I signed a lease on a new apartment this weekend. The place is on a quiet street in a three flat building (I think I've said all of this before, sorry) with a nice front porch made of cement (hello barbeque how are you?) and a back porch that looks out at a little lawn. Included in the rent is a parking space, heat and, generally, a kick-ass apartment complete with proper kitchen pantry and bathroom linen closet....mmmm, linen closet. It is very very hot. I tried offering Meow Cat an ice pack wrapped in a pillow case that she could lie on and keep cool but she didn't get it and there was no way for me to explain it to her. You can usually find Meow Cat at a certain corner in our apartment, I can only assume she feels a cool current running by, my feet never feel any different in the spot. Ugh.