I miss you a waffle lot!

Hey guys! How's it going?

Things have changed a lot on our little island since we last spoke. The number of positive cases being identified weekly is dwindling; in fact, we haven't had a positive case in over a week! The island is still testing at a rapid rate and at this point, almost half of Cayman has been screened. Although they were still finding positive cases up until a week ago, no one has been exhibiting any symptoms or has been admitted to hospital with Covid in months. In addition, our only death continues to be patient zero, the unfortunate man who passed away in our hospital when he fell ill on a cruise ship in February.

So, overall, Cayman is in pretty good shape. I mean, compared to the rest of the world, we are flourishing. We have moved to Level 2 suppression which means that all of our businesses are now open, we are permitted to shop, eat, drink, scuba dive, and staycay in hotels. Groups of 25 or less are allowed and there are definitely small groups congregating at the beach, pools, etc. On July 19, restrictions relax further and we are allowed to sing Karaoke and wait for it....dance - which I think is hilarious! I know Evan can't wait as he's been holding his hips back for months now! 😂(It's like we are living the Caribbean version of "Footloose").

Masks are mandatory in indoor spaces, and we must wear our masks when we are en route to be seated in outdoor bars and restaurants. Even though it's HOT AF right now, no one is really complaining about wearing a mask, and many are donning fashionable face coverings with palm fronds, Cayman Island flags, and even sequins! I do feel for the servers who are working outdoors and dripping in sweat under their face masks -but I think at this point, people who are working in hospitality are fricken happy to still have a job.

Staycay at the Kimpton

The plan continues to be to open up the schools at the end of August, which I feel comfortable with - although it will be challenging to navigate social distancing and masks with 500+ children. We really are living in a relatively safe little bubble isolated from the rest of the world. With our borders still closed, I certainly do not feel vulnerable to the virus - although I am happy to wear my mask and sanitize the crap out of my ugly chapped hands. The concern, however, is the re-opening of our borders. There seems to be a division of opinion on this one. There is something to be said about segregating ourselves from the rest of the world and having the ability to basically live life as "normal" without worrying about becoming ill. However, our island relies heavily on tourism. Given that most of the Caribbean has opened it's borders, Cayman is definitely feeling the pressure to open to tourists as well, in order to keep our once thriving economy going. It will be interesting to observe our Caribbean neighbours as they open up their borders.

The present theory is that whatever strain or version of Covid that we are experiencing in Cayman is much weaker than what they are experiencing in New York, for example. The concern is that if a stronger strain enters are safe little space, it may spread quickly, making us sick and overwhelming our few hospitals on island. My worry, from an "educator's" standpoint is that our borders will open soon after our schools and we will be in jeopardy of school closures again. Our poor little kiddos are in desperate need of structure and consistency, and it would be such a shame to be finally settling into school routine again and then suddenly reverting back to "home schooling" (I put this in quotations because very few of my students were legitimately participating in home schooling). We have worked so hard maintaining compliancy for 4 months to get to this safe place - it would be so unfortunate to regress back as a result of opening our borders. We shall see.

In the meantime, although I am thoroughly enjoying the freedom of dining out, attending beach BBQ's with friends, and even partaking in a Kimpton staycation, I am homesick. I am really really really homesick. I know... I know - I am so grateful to be living in such a beautiful and safe space, especially when so many in the world are essentially back in lockdown mode. I have no right to complain, but I'm just being honest. I am so homesick that it hurts.

Everyday I realize something else that I miss about being home. Here's a sampler:

• I miss sleeping with our windows open and breathing FRESH AIR
• I miss tea and cookies with my Grandma
• I miss my daily Paddle board workouts with Kayla
• I miss lounging on mom's couch while we watch some version of 90 day fiance
• I miss stopping at the farm to see Baba
• I miss the smell of pine trees and campfires
• I miss riding my bike to Dad's for a deck beer
• I miss surfing with the Hunters - and I really miss Darren's loud boat tunes ("Jason Derulo!" ;) 
• I miss my morning coffee visit with Janna
• I miss sunset beach floats with Linds and Brad
• I miss cheering on Evan and Peg during a corn hole champion match
• I miss not sweating straight through every damn outfit 10 minutes after going outside
• I miss shopping at Winners and celebrating the exchange rate ("This is practically free!") 
• I miss laying on the dock and watching the Northern lights
• I miss the random stop-bys - we always have friends and family stopping by for a visit
• I miss the sound of the loons echoing across the lake 
• I miss Tim Hortons and the really nice Filipino man who says "Here you go pretty lady," when he hands me my tea

I mean...I could go on and on. You get the point. I miss home. I have anxiety about not being able to get back home if something happens or if someone becomes ill. I also feel a bit panicky about hurricane season. It is predicted to be a bad one and we have been warned that evacuation flights in the event of a hurricane will likely not be an option for us. EEEEKS. But man, everyone in the world is experiencing heightened anxiety right now, hey? I miss precedented times!!!!

Well that's the update for now. To my Canadian buds - I miss you so much, please do not have any fun without me 😜, and I look forward to the day when we can be reunited.  

Stay cool - or HOT AF like me! 😝

This is as close as I could get! 

Puke, Pills, and Pity.

Hey guys!

It's been a while. Well let's be honest, hasn't the last month felt like the equivalent of about 2 years?  I don't even know how to articulate my feelings about what has been going on in the world over the past month. It's been upsetting, unsettling, frustrating, and rendered me speechless - for a while. I am listening. I am watching in horror.  I privately reached out to a few people who I knew were struggling, but honestly, I just didn't know what to do (I still don't).  I feel like I'm watching the terrible version of Back to the Future IV and am desperately looking for Doc to get the Flux Capacitor in working order so that we can go back to whatever year(s) it is we need to return to in order to fix the f'n mess of a world we live in today.

Anyway - reigning it in...I don't think that people read my blog for political insight and I do have a story that might make you giggle. God knows that we all need a laugh right now...

Feeling as though I was experiencing a total loss of control, I decided to focus my energy on something that I could control (to an extent) - my pets medication protocol.

As I have mentioned previously, my sweet little dog, Dundee, is suffering from congestive heart failure due to a degenerative valve disease. His heart failure is progressing and it's important to monitor his respiratory rate in order to determine appropriate daily doses of 5 different heart medications.  In addition, Biloxi, the most interesting cat in the world, is now nearing 19 years of age and is experiencing some liver issues, as well as dementia, which causes him to place his little orange paws on my face at 3am and scream bloody murder for 3 hours. Super relaxing.

This is the screaming face. All. Night. Long. 

We have a Vet Extraordinaire, Dr. Colin, who patiently responds to my Whatsapp messages at 11pm when I am panicking about a 10 breaths per minute increase in Dundee's respiratory rate. He listens calmly to my explanation and provides an immediate plan for me ("Ok, let's increase the lasix by 1/2 tonight and monitor"). I appreciate him and his team very much.

Thankfully, Dundee takes his meds like a champ. Five large heart pills (twice daily!) are not an easy thing to disguise. I simply bury them in a small peanut butter pill pocket and Dundee happily thinks that he is getting an influx of "treats" for being such a good boy. He cheerfully crunches down on the bitter pills and licks his lips, thanking me for such a wonderful surprise.

"Hey guys! Can I bother you for another one of those crunchy peanut butter balls?"

Biloxi, on the other hand, is seasoned. He is old and has a wealth of life experience. From traveling across the United states with his little orange head resting on Evan's steering wheel to being quarantined at Heathrow for smuggling catnip into the United Kingdom, he has experienced it all. There is no way to disguise the one tiny pill in his favourite cat food, the tastiest of cat treats, or even in the ultimate delicacy - tuna. He's just not having it. So we purchased a "pill gun," a tortuous device that quickly shoots the pill down his throat. I enlisted Evan as the "shooter," and this procedure immediately became the most dramatic event to occur since Colton jumped the fence on the Bachelor.

Here is the procedure for administering tiny cat pills via the "torture gun":

1) Evan chases Biloxi around the house (Biloxi knows Evan's intentions are tortuous in nature).
2) Evan places Biloxi in a (compassionate) choke hold.
3) Biloxi begins salivating in preparation to puke prior to administration of the pills (AKA: pre-puke stage).
4) Evan shoots the pill down Biloxi's throat and blows on Biloxi's face to encourage swallowing.
5) Biloxi swallows the pill and immediately jumps to the ground in a fit of rage and begins frothing at the mouth like a demon feline from Pet Cemetery.
6) Biloxi pukes at least 3 times in various locations (preferably on expensive items of clothing and/or furniture).
7) Procedure is repeated two to three times until pill is ingested.

We did this for 2 weeks. Two. F'n. Weeks.

The last straw occurred one evening as we were preparing to head to bed, and Evan had administered Biloxi's bedtime pills.

Warning: If you are currently eating or vomit makes you squeamish, stop reading here.

Biloxi frothed and heaved around the house and I followed closely with paper towel and lysol wipes - and can I just clarify that the sound of the cat puking may possibly be the most cringe-worthy sound in the history of cringe-worthy sounds. As I cleaned his first round of puke, he quickly ejected his next deposit, which included the pills still intact. Before I could reach over and clean it up, Dundee enthusiastically bounded over and ate the pills. Yes you read that correctly. Dundee the dog ate the regurgitated cat pills.

I immediately panicked, concerned that Biloxi's pills would instantaneously stop Dundee's heart. Now in tears, I called my Dr. Colin and frantically explained the situation.

"Ok. So Dundee ate Biloxi's puked up pills?" questioned Dr. Colin.

"Yes! I sobbed. Is he going to be Okay?"

There was a delay and some muffled laughter.

"Yes. He will be fine, Kirstie," laughed Dr. Colin.

Oh. Ya. Ok. Perhaps a slight overreaction?

"Ok thank you. Have a good night, Dr. Colin."

Long story short, everyone survived. We did make an executive decision to discontinue Biloxi's medication. We have limited his evening bourbon consumption in hopes of delaying the liver damage. hehe.

"Get this camera out of my face!"

"Make them go away!"

"Hey guys! I eat cat puke!" 

So you know...this is what has been occupying my time as I continue life in my tiny bubble on Grand Cayman.

In other news, Cayman is moving to Level 2 suppression this weekend - basically all of our shelter in place restrictions are being lifted. I am hopeful that this helps us return to some sense of normalcy. Three months has been a long time without the ability to socialize with friends in person.

The island is still activity screening hundreds of people daily and are generally finding anywhere betweeen 1-10 positives each week...so Covid-19 is definitely present and active on island; however, there has only been 1 symptomatic case since April, so for whatever reason, people are not getting sick in Cayman. Despite the re-opening of all of our businesses, our border will remain closed until at least September.

The school year is winding down and will end next week. There is typically a buzz in our office and amongst my colleagues - usually the excitement and anticipation for the impending summer holidays is palpable the last few weeks of June. I don't feel that this year. I feel the loss of Monty now, more than ever. The end of the school year was always a time we re-convened in the office, listened to Monty's 90's CD's, and shared so many laughs. I have resigned myself to the fact that I will not see my Canadian friends and family this summer, which still makes me feel incredibly sad. On the other hand, I acknowledge the fact that we live in a relatively safe and harmonious place in relation to the rest of the world, and I am very thankful for the fantastic group of friends on island with whom we will soon be reunited.

If you know me well, then you know that I enjoy age-inappropriate T-shirts. I possess many of these shirts that say things like, "Not without my wine," or "Drinks well with others." The other day I was donning my latest, "Available for Drinks," shirt whilst sipping wine on my patio. It was raining sideways and visibility was limited in that you couldn't even see the pool from our patio through the wall of wet. I began sobbing, feeling lonely and experiencing the "island fever" anxiety of being trapped on a rock, when Evan came outside to see how I was doing. He read my T-shirt, "Available for drinks," took in my pathetic presentation, and chuckled a little. I couldn't help but laugh along with him. The contrast between my enthusiastic T-shirt and my pitiful demeanour was pretty entertaining. It's good to laugh when you can. What else can you do?

I'm fine! It's fine. It's all going to be fine. 

I hope my pet med tale (tail?? haha) made you laugh as well.

Take care everyone. I miss you!

When You are on the Coronacoaster but your Spouse is Not

A friend recently posted a meme about being on the "Coronacoaster," which could be defined as the emotional ups and downs of the pandemic. You know...one minute you are making sourdough bread from scratch and alphabetizing your spice rack, and the next minute you are drinking wine for breakfast and ugly crying over a Honda "We'll get through this together" commercial. This is me. I am there. I am on the coronacoaster - the big one - like the ride at Universal Studios that boasts the largest climb and fastest freefall in the world. Evan, however, is not on the ride. Evan is on the sidelines, casually eating some popcorn, and urging everyone to stay off the coronacoaster. He is rock steady. Calm. Cool. Collected. I am happy for him. I really am. But it's just a little...um...annoying, to be honest.

I don't consider myself a particularly emotional person. Sad movies don't generally make me cry. I rarely yell or get animated when I am angry. Although I love hard, I'm not much of a hugger or one to participate in public displays of affection. However, in the past week I have 1) Sobbed uncontrollably at least 6 times (one particularly bad cry occurred when the repatriation flight to Canada dared to fly directly over our house)  2) Thrown objects against the wall in fits of rage (the video lesson that I was producing was cut off with 1 minute to completion 3) Felt so incredibly moved by a beautiful sunset that my jaw shook in preparation for another ugly cry, and 4) Hung onto Evan like a stage 4 clinger, pleading with him not to fall asleep before me (AS IF!).  That being said, just like that I can rebound - I can wipe the tears and snot from my face and totally crush a challenging 1 hour workout. I can rock myself back and forth in a corner and then immediately hop on a zoom call and deliver one hell of pep talk to the client's parent. It feels like a permanent PMS trip. Then I saw the meme...it all makes sense now. I am on the Coronacoaster. It's a "thing." Apparently I am not the only one...I mean, if they created a meme about it then surely there are others out there who are experiencing severe emotional ups and downs. Anyone? Anyone? It's a shitty ride and I want off.

Evan, on the other hand, seems to be flourishing under our current conditions. Let's be honest, anyone who knows Evan will joke that he's been training for a pandemic his whole life. Evan is an introvert. He is a man of contemplation who is comfortable with solitude. Evan has worked from home for the past 6 years, so other than the fact that his puffy-eyed crazed wife occasionally stumbles into his office in the middle of the day, announcing that she's created a new gin cocktail, nothing much has changed for his day-to-day life. In fact, while so many are struggling to adapt to the "new normal" (whatever that means), Evan is presently creating a program to assist fitness businesses in adapting to Covid life. So as I complain about the fact that I will have to brush my hair in preparation to produce my 45th Speech and language video lesson that is being viewed by...um...no one, Evan has taught himself how to code and is creating a website to support this new branch of his business.

Now don't get me wrong - I am very proud of Ev. I feel extremely lucky to be partnered with such a calm and anchored man who has managed to create opportunity amidst adversity. Not many people can do that! Evan doesn't feel extreme sadness right now. He doesn't look out at the vast sea and experience anxiety about feeling trapped on a tiny island. Evan doesn't lay awake for hours listening to ensure that Dundee isn't short of breath. And a part of me wishes he did...just for a minute...misery loves company, right?

Thankfully, Evan is very supportive, and never makes me feel ashamed or guilty for my emotional outbursts during this pandemic. He knows that I am not coping particularly well and he soon realized that I am not presently emotionally stable enough to tackle life goals. Instead of suggesting that I write a book or take an online class, he now suggests a bike ride or a hot tub "party" (haha - Read: We sit in the hot tub, drink rum punch, and listen to Bob Marley). So although he never makes me feel bad, I do feel a little loser-ish for having zero ambition and viewing a shower as a "win," when he is busy creating a website and drawing in new clients. I do feel guilty that while he coaches businesses how to adapt and flourish during Covid times, he, too, is adapting to being married to a coronacoaster casualty!

So...that's the current situation. We got our beach and our pool access back this week which has been diiiiviiiiine! (climbing high!). But I am missing my people so much it hurts -  I miss my island buds who I am still not legally permitted to see. I am really missing my bud Monty, and feel like I'm re-visiting a few stages of grief that I thought I had dealt with already. I'm missing my Canadian family and friends who I may not see now until (SOB) next year (freefall down!).

Cheers to enjoying the ride? 😁

Beach, please!

Hey guys,

Life has been challenging on our rock over the past month or so. Since the closing of our pool, beaches, and the implementation of hard and soft curfew that has prevented us from leaving our house during evenings and on Sundays, islanders have been more ornery than "cantankerous Kirstie" after 3 gin & tonics! This week after unsuccessfully attempting to provide speech therapy to families who are more concerned about where their next meal is coming from (rightly so), listening to the defeated voices of my co-workers on Zoom, and noting the discouraged frowns of my neighbours wandering aimlessly around our closed pool, it occurred to me that our island has definitely hit a wall this week. A massive cement wall.

When I hear about my Canadian buds having deck beers with friends and social distance coffees in driveways...even going for pleasure drives,  I have been extremely envious (READ: I love you, am super happy for you, but I want to punch you in your face). Our laws here during Covid have been some of the strictest, apparently, in the world. I have only ventured out weekly (I am allowed to drive on Tues, Thurs, and Sat but only to the supermarket, and only if donning a mask), I have been stopped by police on almost every outing, where they check my ID to ensure that I am driving on my appointed day and to question my intentions of leaving my house. A breach of curfew is a fine up to $3000CI and is a criminal offence, so you know...you don't "sneak" out for a little drive around here. In addition, the constant helicopters that circle our neighbourhood and police boats that patrol our waters are a constant reminder to just stay the F&%$ at home. It's super intense, especially when I hear about what life is like for my friends in Canada right now. In addition, it was announced officially that the Cayman border (airport) will remain closed until at least Sept, which resulted in a big 'ol ugly Kirstie cry which lasted for a few days....adding puffy eyes to my already deteriorating appearance. We will not be going home this summer. We will not be reuniting with our friends and family. I will not hug my Grandma. I will not visit with my Baba at the farm. It is still sinking in, but makes me feel incredibly sad and very disappointed. And...I am starting to cry again so let's move on...

Getting used to these coordinates...for the foreseeable future.

I find it interesting to read about other countries who are complaining about their rights being violated with the implementation of shelter in place laws. Sure, there are a few angry voices in Cayman that claim fishing is a Caymanian right, and there have been a few shootings in West Bay (but that's just West Bay being West Bay), but for the most part, our population is quietly adhering to the laws. When rights are questioned during press briefings, our Premier strongly states that it's the government's job to protect the right to life. Regardless if you are 100 years old or 2 years old, if you are Caymanian, Canadian, British, or Hondurian, we all have the right to live and it is our responsibility to protect this right. Caymanians have deep respect for their elders and those who are medically fragile (I have seen this first hand when I have been on crutches and community members have offered their position in line to me, etc).  So when people do complain about the economy or not being able to fish, our Premier states, "You can give up fishing for a while in order to save your Grandma." And that is that. No questions asked. This is Cayman's stance, aligning with their "Caymankind" culture, which appears much different than many countries of the world.

Oh how I miss our Westin happy hours!

I trust and hope that we are heading in a good direction, and today we received some very positive news that we, in fact, are on the right track.

Since testing has been amped up over the past few weeks, Cayman has now tested almost 6000 people. No one has come forward with symptoms over the past few weeks; however, all of our front line workers, including supermarket employees and healthcare workers are currently being screened. A few positive cases are still being detected daily which cannot be traced back to travel, indicating community spread, but for the most part, our numbers are quite low. Overall, 94 people tested positive, and over 50 of those have since recovered. Cayman has had 1 death, and that death was patient zero - a man who arrived off a cruise ship in March. We currently do not have any patients in the hospital.

Because our curve is almost as flat as my chest, some of our restrictions are relaxing as of next week. We get our beaches back, beaches! Whoooo. Now, we can only go to the beach on our alphabet day (That's Tues, Thurs and Sat for us), and we can only go with the intent to exercise for 2 hours. No beach BBQ's. No sunbathing. No sitting in a chair. And no meeting up with anyone outside of your household. I will take it! In addition, our dear dear pool will be opening again. Although I am quite certain that it's now the same temperature as our hot tub, I cannot wait to do some water walking and lounge by the pool with a book. These are luxuries that I have missed sooo much! It's been like 97 degrees with humidity everyday, which is like trying to get a breath fresh air during a hot shower, so I cannot wait to cool off somewhere!

So hopefully that cement wall that we are all ramming our heads into will disappear with a few of our restrictions next week!

In the meantime, stay safe everyone! Cheers

I'm home! I'm home! Leave me alone!

Why Smart Women Watch Shitty TV

I woke up gasping for air as sweat dripped down my face. I quickly reached over to open my top drawer and began frantically searching for the medication.

"Where's the pill? Where's the pill?" I repeated, tossing bottles of medication haphazardly around in the drawer.

 I abruptly came to the realization that I was dreaming again. I leaned back against my pillow and took a deep breath. There is no pill. This is a dream. There is no pill. Calm down. Go back to sleep.

I've been plagued by the "Where's the pill?" night terror for about 7 years now.

It began when I was diagnosed with Osteochondritis dissecans in my knees and was undergoing surgeries every few months. You know that moment when you are just about to fall asleep? In that moment many people experience the sensation of falling and then awaken with a start. Well I wake up with a start but also with an irrational fear that I've forgotten to take a very important pill. The sudden thought causes me to panic - my heart races out of my chest and I gasp for air as I search through drawers and pill packs. There was a pill. I forgot to take it. That's why I am not getting better. I forgot to take the pill.

I worked through my irrational night terror with my Pain Psychologist when I was in the thick of learning about my new disease. I had a lot of built-up anxiety about my diagnosis and it was manifesting itself every evening. Just as my body allowed itself to relax and drift off, my mind would scream"Not so fast!" forcing me to wake up and address the anxious thoughts in my head - in the form of non-existent pill searching.

I spent a lot of time working through my anxiety, incorporating strategies into my day to gain more control over my thinking, and address the worries that were consuming me. I worked through it and low and behold, the "Where's the pill" night terror disappeared from my nightly routine.

Or so I had thought.

Now wouldn't you know - guess what I have been busy doing around 10pm every night? That's right...searching drawers for the damn non-existent pill again!

I had thought that I wasn't really experiencing anxiety over this whole Covid-19 thing. I mean...it's unsettling.  It's a very strange time. But I don't feel particularly scared or anxious about it all. My days are pretty structured with work, exercise, dog walking, and TV watching. I'm not balled up on the couch crying my eyes out or anything like that. I'm taking good care of my body and thought that I was doing just fine. My brain, on the other hand, is telling me that I am, in fact, experiencing some anxiety by springing the whole "Where's the pill" night terror back into my life.

OK. I HEAR YOU. GOT IT. TIME TO CALM THE F DOWN.

So although I don't necessarily have Covid-specific anxiety, I think that the worries I am experiencing are amplified given the situation. Here's what's causing me concern this week:

1) Dundee has a degenerative valve disease in his heart. His heart function is deteriorating and it's been difficult to find the right combination and dosage of medications to maintain it. I spend many hours plotting Dundee's respiratory rate on the dog breathing app, and I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't be quite so obsessive about it if I could actually leave my damn house. I am super thankful that we have a Vet Extraordinaire who is available at all hours on Whatsapp. He has definitely helped to ease my anxiety.

2) I'm coming to terms with the fact that our annual summer trip back to Canada may not happen this year. It doesn't look like Cayman has any intention of re-opening our airport as long as the virus is alive and spreading anywhere near our border. The thought of not seeing my family and friends - especially my Grandma and my Baba makes me feel so incredibly sad. But...we shall see I guess.

3) Remember my super cool wakesurfing injury where I hurt my hand? Ya, well....after months of Physio, a splint for 6 weeks, and a quick trip to Philadelphia (pre-covid) to see the hand surgeon, it would appear as though I require tendon reconstruction surgery. But I mean, that's a future Kirstie problem, and as we all know, I'm pretty good at surgery. 😉

But it's OK. I have a plan. In addition to regular exercise (riding my bike and begging Candace Cameron Bure to acknowledge me on her live Insta workouts) and daily meditation (chanting "you've got to be f'n kidding me!" every time my Loom video drops me), I have decided to increase my Reality TV consumption!

Yes, I love reality TV. Yes, I am an intelligent, educated, and moderately successful woman. No, I am not ashamed. Shame me! Just try it. I don't give a care.

So many of my very intelligent, educated, and wildly successful female friends watch reality TV and feel shame. Don't feel shame, ladies! Reality television is actually very healthy. Here's why:

A recent study published in NeuroImage indicates that watching reality TV can trigger something called "vicarious embarrassment" in our brains. When we watch someone being humiliated, areas of the brain responsible for compassion, empathy, and the suppression of self-interest were activated because we can relate to those feelings of embarrassment. Therefore, watching Reality TV actually makes us more empathetic and less self-absorbed.

Ahhh - this is why I so enjoy watching Darcy from 90 Day Fiance ugly cry with each and every rejection she faces.  It all makes sense now.

Case closed. I am a better person for watching Reality Tv - and so are you, my smart successful friends!

Also, let's be honest - the people, situations, and experiences on these TV shows are basically the exact opposite of the mundane life that I am currently living. It's a great escape. I don't know about you, but I'm guessing we all need a good escape from our strange reality right now.

Cheers to Real Housewivin' Below Deckin' Vanderpumpin' Rulin' Bachelorin' and 90 Day fiance-ing all weekend long!

Darcy crying: Good RealityTV

Kirstie tearing a tendon - Bad Reality TV

Beach closed but there's a Sea Breeze!

Hey all you cool cats and kittens out there!

Yes, yes, I totally hopped on the Tiger King train. Why not? And, yes, it definitely held my attention for a solid 7 hours.

How's everyone doing out there? Anyone? Anyone?

We are hanging in there in Cayman, although, it would seem as though almost every single thing that provides islanders joy has now been taken away from us. Ok...calm down, Kirstie. Even I can admit that statement was just a little dramatic.

Here's the deal. We alternate between "soft" and "hard" curfew hours. From 5am until 7pm Monday-Saturday,  we can leave the house for 90 minutes a day to exercise. We are still alternating grocery shopping days by surname, so for example, we can shop Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, given our surname falls in the L-Z category. Grocery lines are generally long-ish (and hot!) and police check your ID to ensure that you are shopping on your designated day. Sundays are "hard curfew" days which means we are not allowed to leave our house. This was all ok and do-able, until they closed our beaches last week. We are not permitted to walk on the beach, swim in the ocean, or even so much as dip a sweaty little toe in that Caribbean Sea!  The beach closure was totally foreseeable - you would have to have your head buried in the sand to not see that coming (see what I did there?). There were some selfish assholes (yes, that's exactly how i feel!) who were congregating with coolers on the beach, which resulted in the removal of our beach privileges. In addition, we used to be allowed to drive to exercise destinations (i.e drive to Camana Bay and go for a walk), but they recently announced that is no longer permitted as well. And don't even think that sneaking out Bo-Bo. Fines range from $300 to $700 CI for breaking curfew rules, and they will issue you a ticket right then and there. The police helicopter circles the island multiple times a day, there are police check-stops situated all around the island, and the beaches and shorelines are patrolled by police boats and police quads. It's intense, man. Intense!

So how do I feel about this? Well, as you may have gathered by my tone, I am disappointed and frustrated. Like many many people on the island (too many I guess), the beach was my solace. I looked forward to daily walks and pool noodle exercise when my knees were sore. The beach was definitely the highlight of my week. Week after week our privileges are being removed one at a time, and one can't help but feel powerless in this situation. How much longer can this go on, and what will be taken away next?

I am also concerned for a lot of my kiddos. I recently delivered some water to a home that has no running water (many school staff are doing this). When I saw the conditions that this family was living in (and definitely not the worst on island), I felt so sad for my little buds who must experience uncomfortable,  long-ass days at home. How can we even expect these children to access our online lessons when some of these kiddos are likely experiencing abuse and neglect on a regular basis, not to mention the fact that they don't have access to basic necessities, let alone high speed internet? It breaks my heart knowing that school, the one constant and source of predictability in their lives, is unlikely to open anytime in the near future. Everyone, but especially these children, are going to require some intense post-trauma intervention when this is all over. It makes me feel like an asshole for complaining about being holed up in my 1300 sq ft. condo with ocean views, that's for sure.

But...I get it. I do believe that this is all necessary. Cayman is not experiencing "widespread community transmission" at this time, and obviously the point of all of this is to prevent that from happening. I am a science-minded person. I see the numbers. I understand the graphs. I have faith that our government is truly putting the health of this island first, and I completely trust our Chief Medical Officer and the Premier's plan that has been put into place. I see that if our island can eradicate the virus, we have the opportunity to re-open our country. Although our borders will not be opening anytime soon, wouldn't it be incredible if Cayman could be corona-free and services could be back up and running for all of us who have remained on island.

That doesn't mean that I still can't feel sad, disappointed, and bored- oh!!! The monotony!!!! Every morning, as I sweat profusely in the 89% humidity sticky climate while walking the dog, I gaze longingly at the crystal clear pool (closed!) and the cool turquoise ocean (closed), I silently scream "FUUUUUUUUU#%!"

Some days feel like they will never end and others go by quite quickly. One of my childhood idols, Candace Cameron Bure (AKA DJ Tanner from Full House) Instagram lives her workouts with her trainer. I never miss these sessions and, my 12-year old nerdy self attempts to "talk" to DJ through Insta, just hoping for an acknowledgement. I attempt to grab her attention by announcing that I am joining all the way from the Cayman Islands! Alas, she has yet to read my desperate attempts at contact. So you know...it's good to have goals.

I celebrated my 41st birthday this week. I propose that a birthday during Covid should not count, and I will just wait to celebrate my 41st next year, but it came and went, and it would appear that I am, in fact, one year older. I did receive the most happiness-inducing birthday gift that an islander could possibly receive right now - I got a bike! It's a little rusty and needed some TLC, but Evan managed to find me "Sea Breeze" (I named it!), my beautiful little island bike. The walking was taking a toll on my knees so now I can ride my bike around West Bay. There are nice little dirt roads near Barker's Beach that are pretty and shaded and provide a glimpse of the beautiful sea. I now have a daily event to look forward to! When I was 7 or 8 years old I got a beautiful pink bike aptly named "Cotton Candy" that brought me incredible joy (until it was stolen a year later - who the F steals a little girls pink bike?) I'm pretty sure my reaction to "Sea Breeze" was just as spectacular 33 years later! Funny how life comes full circle, hey?

I took Sea Breeze for an extended tour on my birthday, and drove up and down the roads at Barker's Beach. A ray of light was shining down perfectly between the trees and I decided that it was the ideal opportunity to snap a great picture of my new bike. As I gently set the bike against the tree and attempted to get the lighting just perfect, I heard a vehicle pull up behind me and a stern voice inquire, "Ma'am, what are you doing?"

Shit. It was the police.

"Oh hi. I'm just taking a picture of my bike."

I could see the Officer look at me suspiciously. It was obvious that he did not believe me.

"Were you going to walk on the beach?" he asked.

"No No. I explained. You see, today is my birthday and I got this bike. I just wanted to get a good picture of it." At that moment I shamelessly retrieved my phone from it's hiding place inside my sports bra to show him the photograph.

The Officer shook his head incredulously. His eyes screamed "crazy bitch" but he calmly replied, "Just don't go on the beach," and he drove away.

So I dodged a bullet there. I wasn't technically on the beach, but a $700CI fine would have hurt pretty good, especially on the day of my birth! I guess Sea Breeze is fuelling the rebellious biker-chick that's been stagnant inside of me for 41 years.

Well, that's all I got. I hope everyone is finding a "Sea Breeze" moment in their day!

In all of it's glory

scene of the crime

No worries I have a legit mask now

Bingo!

Hey guys,

I hope you all are hanging in there.

We are doing just fine here on our little island. Our government has implemented a combination of "soft curfew" hours and "hard curfew" hours over the next 2 weeks. Here's how it works: If your surname begins with A-K you are allowed to leave your house on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays to go to the grocery store, bank, and/or pharmacy between the hours of 6am and 7pm. Surnames L-Z can leave the house on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays during those same hours. From 7pm until 6am, we are in "hard curfew," which means that you are not allowed to leave your house. In addition, Sundays are now considered "hard curfew" days, which means that you cannot leave your house at all on Sundays. Essential services are exempt from the curfew. There are check stops scattered around the island and police are checking ID for surnames and issuing $250 CI to $500 CI tickets for breaking curfew rules. In addition, police helicopters, quads, and boats are constantly patrolling the shoreline for anyone in breach of curfew. It's pretty surreal to let the dog out for a pee at 8pm and hear complete silence other than the distance whirring of a helicopter blade.

And what about our precious beach time? We are allowed to exercise at the beach for 90 min a day during soft curfew hours. Here is where it gets tricky: apparently everyone has a different view of "exercise." Most would assume it means walking or swimming, but some people think that drinking a pina colada in their beach chair qualifies! Ha. I was walking on the beach the other day and noticed a family of 4 sitting under their umbrella. As the flashing lights of a police boat approached, I heard the father shout, "Stand up and do jumping jacks!" I had to laugh as his wife and 2 children quickly went into "exercise" mode.

We now have 35 confirmed positive cases in the Cayman Islands, with our first positive case on Cayman Brac announced yesterday. The case on the Brac is very concerning, as the island's population is less than 3000 and is comprised heavily of elderly residents. Most of the cases in Grand can be traced back to travel, but we do now have a couple with no known history, indicating community spread.

It's such a strange time for everyone, isn' it?  I feel extremely isolated from the rest of the world, which makes me alternate between feeling terrified and feeling comforted.

There is one daily event that brings me comfort (and provides a few laughs), and that is our routine press conference at 2pm. Everyday our Premier, Chief Medical Officer (My favorite, Dr. Lee), Police Commissioner, and Minister of Health address the public and update us on the latest. Dr Lee reports new cases in his always calm manner, our Premier (self-proclaimed Grim Reaper) lists the latest death toll around the world (whilst making us feel shame for leaving our house), the police Commissioner details some ridiculous crime some loser has committed (evading police on a motorbike for curfew violation), and our Health Minister shares one of his "interesting" poems, recites "stay at home" in a different language each day, and then prays for us. It sounds quite dull, but it isn't. You see, Cayman has really gotten into the spirit of things and has created Bingo cards to use while you are watching (Bingo squares include: panel laughs at dumb question from facebook, Dr. Lee's voice is soothing AF, audio malfunction). Alternatively, you can turn this into a drinking game and get absolutely bombed in 10 minutes. It's all quite entertaining. In addition, talented Caymanians have also begun producing songs/jingles, using press conference coverage for the #stayhomecayman campaign. They have innovatively turned the Health Ministers poem into a reggae sensation, and added instrumentals to the Premier's warnings. It's all really creative and although it's an alarming and upsetting topic, I typically leave the 2pm press conference engaged in humorous whatsapp convos with friends, commenting on the Minister's efforts to speak Swahili, wondering which language he will tackle tomorrow, and anticipating the next remix.

Now I know that is all very serious business, and some might think it's ignorant to joke around about what essentially is a somber press conference, but let me explain what this is actually doing for our island. When you spend an hour a day with this panel, you feel like you are personally involved. You feel directly responsible for every positive case. When thousands of people tune in at 2pm everyday, although they are whatsapping each other funny press conference memes, they are listening to the very important message being conveyed. When only 1-2 people out of 60,000 are breaching curfew, you know that people are taking this seriously. I feel like I am a part of very tight-knit community that takes great pride in where we live, and will do anything to protect it and it's people. So I really do believe that this daily live press conference is an incredible thing that is increasing compliance in Cayman, as well as bringing us together during such a weird time...and if it results in a drinking game gone bad, well, at least you are safe at home, hey?

Cheers everyone. Stay safe.