It's Easter and it's not snowing or sleeting or freezing! For the first time in I can't remember when it's actually a nice day for this springiest of holidays. We aren't doing anything festive to honor the day; neither of us are in the mood (leaky head gasket so big van repair bill coming tomorrow for Durwood, sprained knee for me) and neither of our kids lives close by enough for us to celebrate with them. Even Mom's got a virus of some kind and feels crummy so she's staying in feeling sorry for herself. I learned from my psychic friend, Roi, that Mercury is going into retrograde next week so the next month's going to karmic-ally suck; I figure we're just getting a jump on it with all the calamity we've had this week. Don't want to be left out, you know.
April 3--Bira Beach, Sulawesi. How can the scrawny trunks of the palm trees hold up the weight of the fronds, Leda wondered. She sat on the top of the last hill before the road began its downhill run to the beach. It had been a long, bumpy ride from the tourist area where all the hotels were clustered to this famous beach on the east end of the island. No one else had been willing to leave the comforts and familiarity of the resort so she had gotten directions from the young man at the desk, had rented a Jeep for the day, and got a lunch from the kitchen. Good thing she had grown up driving a standard transmission farm truck because the Jeep was a stick and it didn't have power steering. She found that out when she had turned out of the resort's entrance and nearly clipped off the side mirror when she didn't crank the wheel hard enough.
And that's all she wrote because she was falling asleep. Happy Easter, one more time.
--Barbara
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