We had another gray, dreary day today so I spent most of the day goofing off. I ran the dishwasher, then emptied it once the dishes had cooled off, took a shower, talked to Lala, read the paper.
After that I decided to watch some TV and knit. I got almost through the brim ribbing of the hat before my hands got tired and it was time to come blog anyway. It's fun watching the colors change.
I spent some time reading my old notebook and marveled at the things I'd written. Each little bit was a story in itself and it made me a little sad that I can't seem to do that anymore. I just unwrapped the 2021 Art Gallery Page-a-day calendar that I bought to use for daily prompts and plan to go back to writing one of them before turning out the light. Maybe if I recreate the situation I'll recreate the easy writing. She says hopefully.
10 January--Barbara Malcolm, The Seaview.
Seeing Edward's happy, welcoming face helped me meet all of Iggy's friends and neighbors with ease. None of the women smiled when we were introduced and the men took their cue from the women and were a little distant but as the evening progressed and drinks flowed people loosened up. People raved about our ceviche and, true to his word, Iggy said that I had hooked the fish and he had landed it. I gave all the credit to him for cleaning it and knowing the recipe. I told Mrs. Whiting how much I liked her coconut bread and she unbent enough to give me a small smile with her "thank you."
Edward was the darling of the neighborhood and having him be so glad to see me there made it easier for people to see me as me instead of "that American woman who stole Mr. Solomon away from us." I know that's what they said about me because I heard one of the women who had passed by Iggy's house during the day say that to another woman.
By the time the food was nearly gone the tide had gone out enough that there was a wide area of firm wet beach for dancing on. An ancient radio was wedged on top of a boulder at the base of the bluff and was tuned to a local station. I recognized most of the songs as the ones Luke and Stanley bopped to while scraping and painting the Seaview. Edward came grinning to my side and whisked me away to dance after asking Iggy if he minded.
Iggy laughed and said, "As long as you bring Rose back and do not wear her out."
Edward nodded. "Mrs. Rose safe with me, Iggy" and with that we were off.
I had learned the secret to dancing with Edward at Johnno's jump-ups, to let him lead for a while and then move your feet in place while he wore himself out with wild gyrations. He kept hold of my right hand while he dipped and whirled, raising our linked hands to twirl me under his arm, all the while I got a breather. At the end of the song a different hand reached for mine and one of Iggy's neighbor's husbands danced me up and down the beach, all the while asking questions about where I lived in the States and if there was work there for an experienced carpenter. I told him that I thought there was work but wondered if he wanted to live in a place with a five-month-long winter. Once I explained about the snow and sub-zero cold in Wisconsin winters he said he thought maybe he would stay in Anguilla, at least for now. I agreed that was a good plan.
The music changed and the first notes of a slow song brought Iggy to my side. His familiar arms wrapped around me and he danced us into the shadowy area close to the edge of the sea. "You doing okay?" he asked.
I nodded. "Yes, seeing Edward helped me relax and, since he seems to be the neighborhood pet, having him like me made some people rethink how they treated me." I glanced over Iggy's shoulder to look at the happy crowd. "At least I think they did. People have been nice. The women are a little stand-offish but nicer than I expected. I'm glad we came."
He bent down and brushed his lips across mine. "I am glad we came too."
A gush of cool saltwater spouted between us. Neither of us had been paying attention and the tide had started to come back in. We were soaked and waded up the beach away from the water.
People guffawed as they caught sight of the pair of us, wet and dripping. "That is what happens when you kiss in the moonlight, Ignatius," called one of the women. "Mrs. Rose, you need to watch out for island men, they very sneaky. They will get you all wet when you not paying attention."
The whole crowd laughed at the double entendre.
"Thanks," I said, laughing too, "I'll bear that in mind."
We gathered up our empty plates, silverware, and the ceviche bowl, loaded it into the hamper, and made our way back to Iggy's rock-cut steps, calling our good nights as we left.
Edward said, "Good night, Mrs. Rose, I see you on Monday."
"Good night, come back again," a woman I didn't recognize said.
Iggy put his arm around my shoulders. "See? I told you it would be all right." I agreed that my reception hadn't been as bad as I'd feared it would be.
Today's toss was the last of the trivia games. I'll be doing laundry tomorrow so that will have me downstairs while the wash sloshes around which will give me time to hunt for other things to toss. I still have waaaaay too much stuff but it's a little bit harder to get rid of.
Today's prompt asked what a cat dreams of. I said slow mice. Either that or world domination.
--Barbara
1 comment:
Your collage of you is outstanding. I read my old journals often and it's interesting (to me!) to look back where I'm always the star of the show. You were brave to tear out a page from yours.
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