You can't spell "Heaven" without "Evan"

So let's be honest here: If I bumped into Evan for the first time in a dark alley, I might be a little terrified.

Don't get me wrong. I love Evan a lot and I love the way he looks - I think he's super handsome; however, physically, he's a little intimidating.

At 6 feet, 3 inches, broad shoulders, and shaved head, he could easily be mistaken for a villain in an action flick - a handsome villain, but a villain nonetheless. In addition, although he's a happy guy, he rarely sports a giant grin on his face - it's more of a "thinking" face. The combination of his stature, his appearance, and his facial expressions make him appear...um..well..inaccessible. Difficult to approach. And I say that in the nicest way possible.

This is why it blows my mind that little old Caymanian ladies continue to approach Ev for free car rides around the island.

On a hot windy Sunday morning before Christmas, Evan was driving home from the gym when a well-dressed older Caymanian woman flagged him down. Thinking she was in trouble, Evan pulled over and she immediately jumped into the passenger seat.

"Ok, I need to get to church!" She exclaimed confidently.

At this point Evan was about 5 minutes away from our home but he reluctantly agreed to drive her to church. It was only after a few miles that she disclosed that her church was actually 25 miles in the opposite direction. Evan sighed but figured it was good karma to assist this older woman to church a week before Christmas.

"What's your name, son?" the old woman asked Evan has he tried to remain positive during this 30 minute journey.

"Evan," he replied.

"Wow!" She exclaimed, "I was standing on the side of the road, praying to God that he would send me someone who could take me to church and he sent me HEAVEN. Obviously, it's a sign!"

Not having the heart to tell her that his name was not, in fact, "Heaven," Ev smiled through gritted teeth and pulled up to the woman's church.

"God Bless!" she hollered as she slammed the door.

When Evan returned that day, an hour later than expected, he was mildly annoyed. We laughed about it and figured it was a one-off that an older woman would just hop into a large white man's vehicle, and demand a ride. Well, little did he know this would become a pattern....

Two months later, Evan was packing groceries into the car at our local grocery store when a very old, decrepit, toothless Caymanian woman handed Evan her groceries and plopped herself down in his passenger seat.

"I live in West Bay," she stated.

"Are you freakin' kidding me??" thought Evan as he reluctantly began driving this woman into West Bay (the same neighbourhood that we live in).

"Okay, where do you live?" asked Evan.

"I'll tell you where to turn," she replied.

After driving for 10 minutes in a straight line, Evan informed the woman, "We've just past the football stadium, do you live near the football stadium?"

"The football stadium??" exclaimed the toothless woman in disgust, "Well, you missed the turn miles ago!"

Realizing at this point, he was in for a long drive, Evan pulled the car over and attempted to determine where exactly this woman lived. After a few minutes of chatter, it was apparent that she didn't really know. Shit.

Patiently, assuming this poor woman suffered from dementia, Evan drove slowly and stopped at each intersection, read the street names out loud to the woman, and inquired, "Do I turn here? Does this look familiar?"

Finally, the woman, who was overtly frustrated and irritated,  directed Evan to a run-down house in a very terrifying neighbourhood. At this point, Evan was concerned that, perhaps he was a victim of a scam. A scam that would leave him money-less and dead.

"Ok. Here you go," Evan stated as he opened the door for the old woman.

"Well, this is my cousin's house! You took me to the wrong house!" replied the old woman angrily as she peered out the window.

At this point, Evan was quickly losing his patience, concerned that he might be murdered and robbed and he was totally prepared to leave this angry old woman at her cousin's house to get sorted.

Finally after driving 10km/hour for 25 minutes, whilst reading each and every road sign out loud, she was able to identify her house. She slammed the door, yelling, "God Bless!" waited for Evan to hand her the groceries ("What? you're not going to carry them in for me?") and Ev drove off.

Let me tell you, when Evan arrived home an hour and a half later than expected, he was annoyed. If you've ever seen Ev's "annoyed face" AKA "look of contempt," you would absolutely know, without a doubt, that this man is not pickin' up what you're puttin' down. EEEKS! I, on the other hand, had not been a part of this um..."experience," so I couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably. Oh dear. Why? Why do these little old ladies keep choosing Evan? Doesn't anyone tell these old woman to beware the large white man with shaved head? Seriously. Stranger danger??

Ev learned a valuable lesson. From now on, the car doors are always locked, no eye contact is made in parking lots, and the "look of contempt" is the new "out in public" face. Haha!

Don't let this sweet face fool you: this is a dangerous man. Do not accept rides from him. Ever.  :)

Miss Kirstie, Are you STILL on those walking sticks?

Phew! Made it through another week! I'm not gonna lie, providing speech therapy to 40 kiddos in 3 schools (I know the Canadian SLP's with caseloads of 100 plus are cursing me right now!!) whilst on crutches is more challenging that I had anticipated, but I'm doing it. Thankfully, children are easily manipulated and almost any activity can be twisted into a rewarding and exciting event. So, in all my wisdom, each day I'm rewarding a very special child with the role of "Miss Kirstie Helper." Boo ya! "Guess what, insert name of lucky child here, You have been chosen to be Miss Kirstie's Helper today! Here is your very very important mission. Go to Miss James' year 2 class and tell Ashanti that it's time for speech therapy. I will time you. And....Go!!!" Genius. It's working well. However, I didn't factor in photocopying missions, bathroom breaks, 4 year olds who get lost trying to locate the speech room, not to mention child emergencies "Miss, I have to poop. NOW!" Oh Dear.  Exhausting and overwhelming in 30 degree heat, yet better than snow and ice. But I'm doing it. The reaction of the children once they discovered that their beloved :) Miss Kirstie was injured was priceless. One sassy 5 year old Jamaican girl eyed me up on my crutches. She placed her hand on her hip and inquired, "Miss Kirstie, what happened to you?" When I attempted to describe a "friendly" version of knee surgery to her (minus the terrifying spinal needle and knee juice projecting from my wound), her eyes widened, "Why your Doctor be bustin' you up like that, Miss Kirstie?" hahahaha! What a cute kid. Another child eyed me up after seeing me on crutches for 3 straight days, "Ok, Miss Kirstie, Are you STILL on those walking sticks? What part of you is broken today?" Overall, the kids were very interested and more than happy to do anything to help me out, including rolling my giant suitcase and carrying my laptop for me.

This girl's got it all figured out! 

On a similar topic, I've found that everyone here has been extremely helpful and empathetic. To be honest, I kinda anticipated that my co-workers would go out of their way to help me. I anticipated this because, for the most part, my colleagues are awesome. Seriously awesome. My office if full of really interesting and caring people. Hailing from Jamaica, Cayman, the UK, US, and Canada, we are a diverse bunch. Not only do we have very intriguing conversations about education, but we discuss everything from dating to the lingo we would typically use in our country of origin (FYI: "Bad" is a Jamaican adjective meaning "very"or "really," so if you want to emphasize that you think a shirt is very ugly, you would say, "That shirt ugly BAD"). I love it! There are about 20 steep stairs to climb to reach our office and everyone is always more than willing to carry my freakin' heavy suitcase up those stairs for me, without complaint (perhaps they are cursing me under their breath). I'm not gonna lie though, there have been times when I've contemplated just throwing myself into a forward roll and hoping for the best. Anyways, my co-workers never make me feel as though I'm a burden on them. I've always been extremely lucky to work with really great people.

In addition, I've observed that the locals here on Cayman are also very accommodating and helpful once they see that I'm injured. When Ev and I first arrived on the island in August, we were blown away by the time and effort it took to get anything accomplished on this island. For example, it took approximately 7 hours once we'd purchased our vehicle to license and insure it. 7 hours! Those 7 hours entailed waiting in loooong lines only to receive sub par customer service from employees who acted as though we had completely inconvenienced them by approaching their desk to (gasp!) pay for something. Frustrating. However, this week as I crutched into the Utilities company to pay our electricity bill, I was met with a completely different attitude, "Sweetheart! Don't worry about the line, come, let me help you!" Wha? Me? Aren't you the same woman who couldn't even be bothered to look  up at me from your cell phone (choosing a ring tone is tres important!) when I paid my bill last month? Yet today, you are enthusiastically telling me to "feel better soon, sweetheart!" Wow. After discussing this with one of neighbours, she explained to me that it is definitely a cultural thing. Caymanians are raised to respect their elders and those who are sick or disabled. It's very important and emphasized to children at a young age by parents and teachers. Also, many Caymanian children are raised in a home where Grandma and/or Grandpa may also reside. Apparently if you have white hair, you also have the option of skipping the long line to receive immediate service. Interesting. Now that I ponder it, I'm not sure if a 5 year old Canadian child would independently decide to rush to my side and offer assistance. That's a really wonderful trait to instil in our children, isn't it? (Although great customer service to ALL would be an excellent idea as well...just sayin'). Bottom line, these crutches are money. I'm contemplating renting them out - perhaps setting up a booth outside the Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV - my hell on Earth), and charge $50 an hour, "Skip the lines! Receive proper customer service!" haha.

On the other hand, I did find out the hard way that being on crutches does not get you speedy service at the Hospital. It's frustrating. As a government employee, I receive free full medical coverage through an Insurance company; however, I am only able to access one hospital. I can go to private clinics, but I would have to pay (quite a bit, I think). The hospital that I have access to has a Dentist, Optometrist, Specialists, and a walk-in clinic as well - it's kind of one-stop shopping, but with really really long lines and frustrating waits.  Realizing that my pain medication stash is quickly depleting (Where are those pills going? Who's stealing my pills? Yikes.), I waited at the only walk-in clinic for 4 hours to see a Doctor who took 4 minutes to explain that my pain medication does not exist on this island. Doesn't exist?? Can't we hire a boat to bring some in or something - they bring in avocados! Can't someone here just sort out how to make my medicine? C'mon, people! She offered me something stronger, which makes me drool and occasionally pee my pants (kidding, sorta). I took the prescription. I may have to get creative with halving it, mixing it with a little of this, a little of that...we'll see. I will check in with one of my smarty Pharmacy friends. They know everything, those Pharmacists! After losing 4 hours of my life just to find out that my go-to medication was unavailable, I did what any self-respecting, intelligent woman would do: I drank a lot of wine and contemplated my conundrum. Always an optimist (Ok. ALWAYS is a strong word), I realized that this  just opens the door to another opportunity for a creative new island business. Check it out: "Rent my crutches while I make your medicine!" (not to be confused with drug dealer). Brilliant!

Another breathtaking sunset from our patio. Keep calm and make your own damn medicine. 

Let it Go!

Ev and I had a rare week together at home. I spent it relaxing, reading by the pool, and watching TV. Ev spent most of it working (What does he do all day? I'm not sure but he's attached to that computer for at least 7 hours a day. Emailing?). But we did manage to take some time outs and just be with each other, which was exactly what we needed given the events and the stress of the past few weeks. I'm so thankful that Ev and I get along and actually really like each other. When I think about all the talks we've had, all the things we've discussed this week from the sadness of losing his dad, to fears about my crappy knees, to the age old question: why do the tourists insist on wearing Hawaiian print shirts when we're not in Hawaii? We've covered a lot of ground and it's nice to have someone with whom you trust and love to share every little thought with. I always tell single friends: Never settle. Someday you will need your spouse to bathe you in a very non-sexual way for medical reasons. You don't want just any person doing this. Choose wisely.

Ev's new sport: Kiteboarding! Go Evs!

Wednesday was a public holiday here on the island: Ash Wednesday. We took a little road trip to our favourite beach bar in Cayman Kai called "Kaibo." Obviously, no one there was giving up alcohol for Lent, as the drinks were flowing freely all day long. We then strolled over to Starfish Pointe and laid on the beach, watching all the drunk party boats depart for the day. Candle Lake peops: It's like Cayman's version of the islands. Boats pull up with music, booze, dancing, and party all day long. Good times. When I say "stroll," I mean "crutched." Unfortunately, I'm still pretty reliant on the crutches. I can put weight on the newly injured knee, but it hurts like a mo-fo about 10 minutes later. Aside: This one time, my amazing Ortho asked me how bad the pain was and I responded, "It hurts like a mo-fo." He didn't know what I meant and I had to actually explain "mother f*&%$," which isn't a word I would ever use, yet I stand by the fact that that mo-fo is an excellent descriptor of pain; however, oddly enough, "It hurts like a mo-fo" is not listed on the pain scale. Anyways, the crutches are a pain in the ass, but if they help to reduce the pain I'm experiencing, then I will use them. I'm pretty damn experienced on the crutches. My resume reads something like this: 2 years off and on crutching experience, 17 months of which were strict non-weight bearing. Crutch Master, obviously. Given that my 2 years experience was crutching for the right knee, it was a bit of learning curve to switch it up and crutch for the left knee. You know, like a mirror image. I'm terrible at spatial concepts and I required a quick lesson to re-learn the left knee technique. Got it. Although being a "crutch Master" isn't necessarily something one should be proud of, I do find myself frequently judging other crutchers. Case in point, Ev and I noticed a teenage girl out with her friends. She had crutches. Although she sported a knee brace, she could not decide which knee was injured and "crutched" hopping wildly on both feet. Oh C'mon! Faker. Are crutches like cool now? I hear fanny packs are back too. Awesome. Be aware, you crutch in front of me: I will judge you.

Starfish Point

Beauty Day!

 Bartender! I'll have another! Make it snappy - I've got 1 week!

Ev and I have a new favourite past time: we enjoy playing "tourist." Yesterday, we settled in at the Marriott Hotel ($400/night), ordered cocktails from the beach bar, listened to some lovely live music, and pretended that we were on holidays. If it's one thing I've noticed about tourists, it's that they don't care. They don't care about anything. NOT A CARE IN THE WORLD. "I'm drunk and swimming at sunset! Whoo too!" "Let's post this awesome selfie on FB and write Not -38 degrees here! WHOOO HOOO!" "I just wrote our names in the sand with a heart around it so everyone knows we're forever! WHOO HOOO!" Sweet! These people have 1 week to fulfill all their dreams. 1 week! They're having fun. I like it. We had a great time at the Marriott and felt our worries and sadness disappear for a few hours. What a wonderful perk of living in a tropical destination.

I head back to work tomorrow. I'm disappointed that my knee is still quite painful and I'm a little concerned that it will continue to feel this way until I opt for the cartilage transplant - a surgery that I've already endured, a surgery that involves a long, gruelling recovery.  I joke and laugh about it, but I'm pretty f'n pissed off. Osteochondrial Dessecans is a very rare condition. It only affects 1 in 300,000 women and German Shepherds (for real), which makes me...what? extremely unlucky? Rare? Is this a sign that I should be playing the lottery? I knew that there was a 30% chance that the condition would also affect my left knee, but I reasoned that I'd get a bye for facing the right knee with poise, persistence, and bravery. Not so much. At least I'm symmetrical? I worry that it'll affect other joints in my body and frequently lay awake at night wondering about my hips, my ankles, my elbows. It sucks. I'm afraid. I'm angry. In the meantime, as I head  back at work to speech pathologize my little buddies, I will not be chasing runners. If my kiddos decides to bolt, I will NOT be pursuing runaway children through the jungle. I will lean on my crutches, wave goodbye, and sing Frozen's, "Let it Go!"

Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy? Will someone just tell me the answer already?

Rough Seas

There's a reason I haven't blogged in forever. Evan and I have been met with some serious challenges and: a) I didn't feel like discussing these challenges in public and b) I didn't feel like lying and pretending that everyone was A-OK. So I remained quiet for a while. Me? Quiet? Hard to believe! :)

After a 3 year battle with cancer (and let me tell you, this man battled), Evan lost his dad on February 2nd. Evan's dad, Jerry, was a strong-willed, stoic, gentle man. Although Jerry may have appeared very serious to others, I loved seeing the fun side of Jerry - there was always a twinkle in his eye when he'd tease me - that twinkle made me feel special.  I met Jerry when I was 17 years old and he always made me feel like I was a part of the Lindsay family, and that I was the ideal match for his son - which is huge complement, given his obvious adoration for Evan. I feel grateful for the camping trips, the Mesa adventures, and the last few Christmases together. Life just won't be the same and my heart goes out to Evan, his brother, and, especially, Evan's mom. It's such a loss.

Evan flew home in time to share a special goodbye with his dad. The family was able to be together and although there is never a "good ending," I'm sure Jerry felt overwhelmed with love - and there is no better feeling in this world to know you are loved.

I was scheduled to fly into Calgary a few days later, but was having a lot of difficulties with my left knee - the one that didn't have the cartilage transplant. It was catching, locking up, and keeping me awake at night with pain. En route, unable to walk, I re-routed to Saskatchewan and met up with my amazing Orthopedic Surgeon, Dr. M, and had an emergency scope on my knee. The verdict: the condition that I suffer from in my right knee, Osteochondrial Dessicans, is now in my left knee. The hard cartilage, or articular cartilage, is pulling away from the bone and falling off in chunks, floating around my knee, aimlessly (what the hell are you looking for cartilage chunks?) and creating more damage in the knee. Awake during my surgery, numbed with a spinal, I watched the screen above my head which provided a live view of my scope. It was like watching a horror movie. As soon as I saw the shredded cartilage, I knew exactly what was going on. As Dr. M measured the lesion, I turned my head and had a little cry. Why me? Why now? I can't do this all over again. I thought I was done being brave.

Thankfully, my mom flew in from Palm Springs to look after me and I was surrounded by all my fabulous PA peops who, despite my absence over the last 6 months, obviously still care about me. A lot! The texts, the emails, the visits, the rides, the warm wishes - it felt great. Although I felt very guilty about not being with Evan when he so needed support, I knew that I needed to be strong, to get strong both mentally and physically, so that I could return to the island and support him. Thank you, friends and family for helping me through! There is no better feeling in this world to know you are loved.

I flew back to our little tropical paradise yesterday. Kudos to WestJet for providing excellent service and assistance with my mobility - let me tell you, crutch travelling is the way to go - no lines! I'm back where I belong, with my best buddy, Evan, and we're dealing with things together. I'm not sure what the future holds - perhaps another big surgery in my future. It scares me, but I've done it before and I'm stronger this time. Evan is going to need some time...I know he misses his dad so much, it's difficult to see him hurting,  and it must just be so tough to keep on keepin' on. But we are strong, we are in love, and we are surrounded by awesomeness. Thanks again for all your love and support!

Yes, little Johnny, If you don't wear mittens, you will die

Happy New Year friends!

Here's a rundown of what's been shakin' since we last spoke:

1) Christmas
Ev and I flew back to his hometown in Alberta on Christmas Eve. Once we sorted out the art of driving on the right hand side of the road again (without constantly flipping on the windshield wipers), we made it to his parents house just after midnight on xmas morning. Christmas day was a really great day. Snow fell softly the entire day while I indulged in mandarin oranges, Timmies steeped tea, and Peggy's unreal cooking. It was a quiet, relaxing day spent enjoying each other's company and catching up. Good stuff and exactly what we all needed.

My dad gave me a fabulous present for Christmas this year! He sent me my sister! Kayla flew in to Calgary on boxing day and we were able to spend a weekend together in Banff - a super cool mountain retreat west of Calgary. We drank Starbucks and Timmies, relaxed in the hot springs ("Um, with 300 people here, do you kinda feel like we're all bathing together in really dirty hot water?") and shopped. It was thrilling! There were purses, footwear, clothing, and even lip gloss for sale. Boo ya! How I have missed shopping. Kayla was the perfect shopping buddy, indulging me in my cheap thrills and keeping me on track.

"Kayla! Look at this down-filled winter coat! I need this."

"Um, Kirst, you live on a tropical island. Put it down."

Right.

The only thing that I did NOT enjoy about our Canadian Christmas was the weather. Although it wasn't deep freeze, snot freezing to your face cold, it was cold enough. You know how I was recently bragging about the fact that my knees haven't hurt in months? Not so fast. Within days of exposure to freezing temperatures, my knee swelled up like a basketball and the dreaded "shocks" began (the ones where it feels like I'm being tasered every few minutes). Brutal. Once we returned to the island, the other knee acted up. They've both settled down, but I'm not gonna lie, it freaked the hell out of me. I was back on the painkillers, hobbling around, wondering if I had "wrecked" something. Obviously, the cartilage hates cold. Got the message - loud and clear. It definitely makes me question if I would ever choose to endure another prairie winter.

I double dog dare you to stick your tongue to the ice sculpture!

To my American friends: See. It's a legit word. It also means "sorry" haha. 

Starbucks!!!!

Beautiful Rocky Mountains!

2) Visitors!
Allicia came! (you may remember her as "lawyer" from my first blog: http://kirstie-seizetheday.blogspot.com) She spent a week with us on Grand Cayman and it was fantastic! I miss her so much (we text daily) and I loved cruising around the island, showing her my favorite spots, introducing her to new friends, and indulging in a Sunday brunch at Luca. Our life is so full here; however, there are definitely some special faces that I miss terribly. In desperation, I looked at importing Allicia and claiming her as my dependent. Um..not gonna happen. Damn.

This is how happy hour works

And...another sunset

Sunday Brunch! Booya!

Every time a visitor leaves, Dundee spends the next night(s) sleeping in the company bathroom. Awww....

3) Gallbladder.
Oh this fricken gallbladder! I decided to ditch out on football surgeon and seek a second opinion. Enter soft-spoken reliable surgeon #2. I liked this guy. He didn't refer to me as "sweetheart" (I hate it when a male in a "position of authority" calls me sweetheart), and he appeared to be knowledgable and confident.  After examining the ultrasound, he determined that I do have gallstones and that my gallbladder should definitely be voted off the island. Ok. Fine. He made a plan to perform a gastroscopy (G-scope) first to examine my stomach - just to ensure he's not missing anything else that could be causing my symptoms. Ok. Fine (although I'm not keen on swallowing a giant camera. At all). I texted Evan from the hospital, "Dr. wants to do G-spot first to make sure nothing there" Oops. G-spot? Why the hell is my phone autocorrecting to G-spot? Ironically, I was then sent to a severely overweight nurse to discuss my diet. She suggested, "No fried chicken" and "low fat milk - you know, like 2%" Sure. Like Canada, there is a wait of a few months for these procedures; however, If I suffer a gallbladder attack, soft-spoken reliable surgeon #2 will remove the gallbladder immediately. I'm not gonna lie, I did consider sitting on the steps of the hospital with a bucket of KFC and a litre of homo milk - may as well attack this thing before it attacks me, right? I am a teensy bit nervous about undergoing surgery here on the island - especially when I see my co-workers reactions to my news, "You're having surgery HERE???" One co-worker joked, "Well, I'm not getting attached to you." Shit. But seriously, a gallbladder removal is like the first thing surgeons learn in surgery school, right? "Welcome to surgery school. Day 1: taking out the gallbladder: easy peasy." Interestingly, since my surgery's been booked, the gallbladder pain has lessened. I'm convinced that I can shatter these stones with sheer willpower. Watch me!

4) Work.
Back to school! As much as I was dreading heading back to my school routine, I actually really missed my little kiddos. And they were pumped to see Miss Kirstie! As I walked to my office at one of my schools, I heard a little voice holler, "Miss Kirstie! Miss Kirstie! Miss Kirstie!" When I finally acknowledged the screaming with a wave, my little buddy responded, "I just wanted to tell you Happy new year!" How can that not make you smile. When I was in Banff, Kayla helped me film a video amidst all the snow. I knew this would impress my little buddies, most of whom have never seen real snow before....and I was right! Their little faces lit up when I showed them all of the snow, and videos of people skiing and ice skating.

One little guy very seriously inquired, "What are those?"

 "Those are called mittens. They keep your hands warm."

"If you don't wear mitts and your hands touch the snow you will die, right Miss Kirstie?"

Um...well, with temperatures presently hovering around the -30 mark, Yes, you might actually die, my friend. Haha!

In other exciting work news, I received a huge promotion this week. Given that I am absolutely obsessed with the laminator in the office, and would laminate my lunch, my pants, and my face if given the chance, my co-workers lovingly voted me "CLO- Chief Laminating Officer." That's a big deal. First off, I do love that laminator (shiny paper!!!) and am pleased and honoured to oversee laminating activities in our office. Second, they voted me - me! Obviously I was the chosen one, which means that people like me. They like me!! Whoohoo. Anyways, we had a good chuckle about my new position and I will do my best to fulfill my lamination responsibilities in 2015. For those of you who worked with me in the PA hospital, you may recall the many challenges I endured with the fax machine. That thing was confusing. Area code? No area code? press "9" first? Who the hell knows? And how can you not be suspicious of a machine that mysteriously transmits messages, without delay, to offices around the world? It constantly jammed on me, and despite my attempts at humour (remember that one time I put a picture of Bob Marley on it and wrote, "We should name this machine Bob Marley because it's always Jammin' - oddly enough, my Manager did NOT think it was funny), I was obviously a failure at faxing. I assure you that this will not be the case with lamination.

So there's the update. Hope you're all keeping well,
Cheers!

Look out Tim Horton's, Kirstie is on her way!

I'm really enjoying the Christmas festivities around the island. The Caymanians take this holiday very seriously, and by seriously, I mean, let's light this island up, people!

The centre of every roundabout on the "main drag" is sponsored by a company here on the island. That company is responsible for decorating the crap out of that roundabout. Our bank, Butterfields, for example, created a breathtaking display of lights on their roundabout - there's something magical about a dozen blinking palm trees! However, not to be outdone, Cayman National, one of it's rival banks, went all out with "dripping" icicles and a light display illustrating the police catching a burglar? (don't ask). Anyways, after seeing Cayman National's light display, Ev cheekily commented, "Well that bank is obviously doing better than ours. Time to switch banks?" In addition to the roundabouts, people decorate their cars here. For real. Like with antlers and rudolph noses. Who doesn't want to get flipped off in traffic by the dude driving the reindeer Beemer?

Cuz why wouldn't you?

a Christmas round-about 

There are also a few million dollar mansions, for which I can tell, the owners decide to turn into a Christmas attraction. They don't charge admission, they don't even ask for a donation, these people just open up their hundred square foot yards to the island, provide treats and drinks, and welcome the public to wander around, enjoying their  fabulous Christmas light display. Very generous - and an excellent activity for families. I was more enthralled with peering in the windows of these houses. What are these very wealthy people doing while we wander around their yard? For the record, one guy was watching Law and Order as I snooped around his "Christmas pool" - see, they are just like us!  For anyone who frequented Rick's Lounge, Candle Lake in the 90's, it totally reminded me of that window where you could drink a beer and watch Rick's mom (the lovely Kay), sip her wine and watch a movie in her silky robe. Haha!

Dundee is dressed and ready for his twinkle tour

"Where's the lights?"

Wandering through someone's yard

Yes, we are in the nativity scene - seems sacreligious, but everyone was doin' it

Working in the schools here at Christmas is nuts, people! NUTS! I've previously worked in the schools back in Canada and have since forgotten just how excited these kiddos (and teachers!) are as their 2 week vacation approaches. Basically, it began December 1, "Hey Ms. Teacher, I'm here to take Jeshaun to speech therapy." "Sorry, Jeshaun is at the 3 week before Christmas special Santa snack time today!" I've come to the conclusion that any attempt to provide speech therapy between December 1 and December 19 is a complete write-off. I'm not complaining - I did enjoy some fabulous Christmas concert rehearsals (Teachers, I have a complete new respect for what you do. EEEKKKS!) Overall, despite the lack of snow and the fact that our Santa wears a Hawaiian shirt and flip-flops, you would be hard- pressed NOT to feel the Christmas spirit on Grand Cayman.

Ho Ho Ho and a bottle of rum

That being said, I am pretty damn excited to get off of this island for a week and have a proper White Christmas! Ev and I fly out on Christmas Eve and will arrive in Calgary at midnight, just in time for Santa. We're excited to spend  Christmas with Ev's family this year, and were happy to find a flight home that didn't cost us a shmillion dollars. I'm a little concerned; however, as the weather network is predicting a large storm for Toronto on Christmas Eve (site of our connecting flight). They've actually pre-named this storm #SantaBomb. Yes, it has it's own hashtag, so obviously it's legit. Shit. I really hope they are totally wrong about #santabomb. I've decided to channel my mother and start worrying about this storm now, as worrying about it will surely make it go away (right, mom? haha).

There are a few very important things that I will definitely be taking advantage of in Canada - things that I've been yearning for over the last 5 months:

1) Tim Horton's - watch out Timmies! I'm comin' for at least a dozen extra large steeped teas double double. Oh, steeped tea laced with crack cocaine, how I've missed you!

2) Starbucks - Sorry, Starbucks, you came a close second to Timmies; however, I will happily grip your sweet little cardboard sleeve and enjoy your festive cup as I sip a London Fog. Mmmmmm.

3) Scarves - I will wear the hell out of my scarves. I might even wear 2 at a time. Ascot wrap? Double knot and tie? Oh, I will envelop myself in scarves any which way I desire. Oh scarf collection, how my bare little neck has missed you!

4) Target/Winners/Walmart/any large and busy store - Is that a "sale" sign? There are clothing items that have been marked down? You don't say! I have been desperately missing shopping. Can you believe that I have not properly shopped since the beginning of August? My TD debit card is cold. Cold, people! Bring on a deal!

5) Japanese mandarin oranges - apparently the cargo ship did not stop in Japan. No mandarin oranges here. Just you wait, I shall lovingly unwrap that green noisy paper and carefully peel that mandarin orange (try to do it in just 1 peel!!) I will pop that juicy little orange wedge in my mouth and sigh with pleasure.

So if you spot an oddly tanned blonde with terrible roots (hair colour is uber expensive here!), donning 3-4 scarves, wandering around Target, appearing completely overstimulated, double fisting Timmies/Starbucks, and eating an orange - it's me!

Merry Christmas my friends!

This is what Ev and I do on weekends, obviously.

Leapin' Lizards

Whoa, I can't believe that it's December already. With no real change in seasons, time appears seamless here. It feels like there is never a beginning or an end. It was just August, wasn't it? - when suddenly, BAM! Santa's walking around in a Hawaiian shirt and the reggae singer in Camana Bay is singing, "Baby don't worry...about a thing....Santa's little sleigh's gonna come tonight."

I had another visitor on the island! My dad came down for a week - we had a fantastic week! I haven't had a chance to spend a lot of alone time with my dad as an adult and I really enjoyed our time together. I gave him the full island tour - after seeing his terrified reaction to a starfish, I quickly decided that he would not enjoy the stingrays, so we settled for a mudslide at Rum Point instead. We managed to hit up all the hot spots on the island in 5 days, despite the 70km hour winds that blew in for a week. When I was a little girl, I was fortunate enough to be taken on a hot vacation every year. I always remember how much fun my dad was on vacations - hours of being tossed into the pool from his shoulders and exploring the beaches. It was nice to reminisce and relive some of those activities (although, No shoulder stands in the pool) and I feel blessed that my dad was able to experience my new life with me.

Dad likes the local beer!

eeeeks! A terrifying starfish! haha.

Smith's Cove -watching the storm roll in

It's been 4 months since our arrival and I'm starting to feel like I actually live here. I've compiled a list of the top 10 indicators that I am settling in and am on my way to becoming an "islander":

1) I avoid walking under palm trees. Eventually an iguana will fall out of that palm tree. I do not want to be the one to break its fall. I can't even count how many times I've watched an iguana fall out of a palm tree. They're pretty resilient, by the way. (Aside: I saw 2 chickens chase an iguana up a tree this week - non-stop action, people!)

Look up! Look way up - and you'll spot an iguana

2) I make fun of the guy in the rental car who turns his wipers on whenever he intends to make a turn, "Haha! signal light on left buddy!" (I was totally doing the same thing 3 months ago!)

3) I've resigned myself to the fact that I will need to set aside at least 4 hours to pay my bills/pay my car insurance/pick up a prescription, etc. Initially I thought it was outrageous that I had to visit 2 different banks on opposite ends of the island, carrying $1600 CI cash in my wallet from bank to bank in order to simply pay my rent. No there is NOT a more efficient way. This is how it's done. Suck it up, buttercup and take an afternoon off of work...and be prepared to wait in line.

4) I yell at cruise ship tourists (from my car. With the windows closed. Ok, they can't hear me). Don't get me wrong, I am still in awe every time I turn the corner in George Town and spot 3-6 enormous ships floating in the turquoise waters. It amazes me that I live in a place where cruise ships frequent. Awesome! However, when I am running late to the office and a dozen Hawaiian shirt clad tourists (why do they always wear Hawaiian shirts??) are standing, oblivious, in the middle of the road, looking for rum cake, I clench my teeth and mutter, "This isn't a movie set. This is a ROAD. Don't they have roads where you come from? You can't just stand in the middle of a road!"

5) I get excited about a 3 degree change in temperature. Island friends warned me that December would be our "cold" month. December is considered winter here on the island. Last week, I was pleasantly surprised when I stepped out to take Dundee for his morning walk only to discover that the air had changed! For the last week, the temperature has hovered consistently around the 24-27 degree Celsius mark (previously 27-30 degrees). Whoa! Time to get my scarves out! Yes, I do realize that it was about 50-60 degrees colder back home. I lived it for 35 years - the feeling of snot freezing to your face within 3 seconds of walking outside is still fresh in my brain - so I'm NOT complaining at all.  But it is curious to live in a place where such a subtle change signals a change in season - it makes it very difficult to orientate yourself to the time of year. If someone threw an Easter Bunny decoration on their grass, I would totally just assume that's Easter now. It's strange.

I'm legit!  It only took approximately 7.5 hours to get this licence 

6) Traffic lights drive me batty. There are about 4 sets of traffic lights on this island. Traffic around the island is mostly regulated by round-abouts. The round about is brilliant. It's efficient and it keeps things moving (you know, so you can quickly drive to your destination and wait in a line for 4 hours - haha). A traffic light, on the other hand, makes no sense. Why am I waiting? There isn't actually any oncoming traffic, but this light here says I have to wait? Boo Traffic lights - you are not the boss of me!

7) I'm on a first name basis with the parking security man at Owen Roberts International Airport. There are a few options when you are picking up passengers at the airport: a) you can park and pay a shmillion dollars for 5 minutes or b) you can park your car directly in front of the airport and pretend that your passenger will be right out. like NOW. I've been frequenting the airport and Mr. Vern, the parking dude, is on to me. "Miss, you can't wait here." "Mr. Vern, my husband will be right out!" Sometimes I even wave, pretending Evan is walking towards the car, when in reality he's still in customs.

8) I'm becoming accustomed to living with sand. There is constantly sand everywhere! In my bellybutton, in our car, and annoyingly, in our bed. I can wash the sheets daily...it doesn't matter. Sandy toes. Sandy hair. Sandy ears. I like to think of it as "bedtime exfoliation."

9) Instead of shovelling snow, we shovel iguana sh*t. For real.  You see: after 1) the iguana falls out of the palm tree, it craps on your car, on your patio, and next to the pool. The iguana smiles mischievously   with a gleam in his beady little eyes as he saunters away from his stinky little package.

10) For as long as I can remember, my go-to response to the question, "How's it going?" or "What's up?" has been, "Just livin' the dream." Even when I was bound to crutches, hobbling down the halls of the hospital, stoned out of my tree, although dripping with sarcasm, I would reply with the same phrase. People's reactions varied. Mostly, if it was the middle of winter, when I commented with, "Just livin' the dream," the response varied from, "As if," "More like a nightmare!" or "some dream." Overall, winter in Saskatchewan just does not promote happiness. My perception is most people suffering through a Saskatchewan winter feel like they are being punished, "Why? Why?" That just sucks. Yesterday, on the other hand, I walked into the gym and the trainer said, "Hey, what's going on?" and I replied, as per usual with, "Just livin' the dream." He stopped what he was doing, smiled, and replied, "We really are, aren't we? Thanks for the reminder." So 4 hour line ups and iguana crap may not be your vision of "livin' the dream," but it's feeling pretty right to me.

Cheers!