Nothing

That was today, a nothing day.  One of those days when inspiration and motivation didn't show themselves.  It was sunny in the early morning but then overcast and dreary the rest of the day and cold so I wasn't motivated to walk.  Just not motivated to do anything.

There was ice in the birdbath this morning and it took most of the day to melt.

Squirrels came to finish off the suet pellets and then dangle on the suet cake feeder nibbling and arguing among themselves over whose turn it was to feed.

 15 December--Barbara Malcolm, The Seaview. 

Chapter 23

            Supper at Calvin's was a nice break from restaurant food or something I whipped up in my studio with its limited equipment.  I couldn't wait until the second cargo container arrived with the furnishings for both the Seaview and my apartment.

            Calvin's wife, Drusilla, was very gracious and very easy to talk to.  As soon as we were introduced, even before I had an icy glass of fruit punch in my hand, she had asked me to call her Dru, "My mother thought Drusilla was an elegant name," she said.  "But once someone told me that it was the name of one of the ugly stepsisters in the Disney movie of Cinderella that was the end of elegance in my book."

            I liked her immediately.  She was warm and friendly and very funny.  We got acquainted in the kitchen when Calvin and Iggy went outside to light the charcoal in the grill.  "I hope you like fish," she said.  "Our son, Billy, caught a big Dorado and shared a bit with us."  I had met a fisherman named Billy in Johnno's right after I came to the island and wondered if he was her son.  "He lives with his wife, Cat, and our wonderful grandchildren just down the road from your hotel, Rose.  Have you met him?"

            I had to laugh.  "I was just about to ask you if the Billy who lived there in Sandy Ground was your Billy."

            She laughed too.

            "Great minds think alike," we said together, which only made us laugh harder.

            "I'm so anxious to get moved into my apartment and get the bed and breakfast up and running."

            She nodded her understanding while chopping onions and peppers into a frying pan.  "I do not blame you.  I would want to begin as soon as I could too.  What is left to be done?"

            I convinced her to let me stand and stir the onions and peppers in the skillet while she moved on to tossing the salad.  "Iggy and Silas almost have the place totally rewired.  It took much longer for Mr. Gomez the Customs agent to complete his inventory than I thought it would, so the wiring was slowed a bit."

            Dru snorted.  "Oh, that 'Nando Gomez.  He acts like he is all that stands between Anguilla and sheer disaster.  He has got a real savior complex, I think.  He was like that when he was in school.  Always telling the teachers if someone had something they should not, or if someone was out behind the building smoking."

            I could hear real resentment in her voice.  "What did you do that he told?  I'll wager that he got you in trouble, mm, let me see," I tapped my finger on my lips, "you were out behind the school kissing Calvin and 'Nando saw you."

            Her jaw dropped a bit and then she smiled.  "That is it exactly.  How did you know?"

            I kept one eye on the vegetables sautéing in the pan, but I grinned at her.  "Because Iggy told me that you are the governor's daughter and I imagine that Mr. Gomez has always tried to, how shall we say, move up the social ladder to make himself more important."

            She smiled and nodded her agreement.  "Since he was too young to ingratiate himself with my father by being my boyfriend, then he was going to get me into trouble just for fun."

            I slid the skillet off the flame.  "These are done, I think."

            Dru took them, put them in a heat-proof bowl and set them aside.

            I continued.  "These days Mr. Hernando Gomez makes himself big by being a threat to people's ability to import things."

            "He does.  I used to feel sorry for him because people do not like him, but now I see that he makes himself unlikeable by his actions and his disdain for others."  She shook her head, folding her arms across her midriff.  "I hope that you are finished with Mr. Gomez the Anguilla Customs agent."

            "No, I'm not.  I have another container on the way; it should be here next week or early the week after with all my furnishings for the hotel and my apartment.  That one will be fun to unload because that will mean decorating and arranging things, and having my own kitchen.  I can't wait to have a real kitchen again."  I looked around Dru and Calvin's spacious room.  "It won't be this nice but it will be mine.  I didn't think I would miss a kitchen as much as I have."

            "Do you not have a kitchen at Sydans?"

            "Yes, I do, but it's meant for someone on holiday, not someone making meals after working a long, hard day.  I find that it's easier most days to walk down to Johnno's or the Barrel Stave for something."

 

Today's toss was my mother-in-law's recipe box.  Not the box with her handwritten recipes but a box with all sorts of recipes torn from newspapers and magazines.  Nothing worth saving, nothing I'd ever cook.  The ads were fun to see.

Writing was okay today.  Nothing earth-shattering but an adequate effort.

I visited on Zoom with my two high school friends this evening.  It's so nice to meet for a little while and find out that we're all a bit crazy with isolation.

--Barbara