... passage to America

More often than not, I choose to sit in my jeep for the watery commute "to America"

(an expression used by the islanders when we refer to traveling to the mainland).

Some might call me anti-social

and that's ok in my books.

Most folks leave the car decks and head upstairs to the passenger area

to gab, or read ... maybe knit, work on the communal jigsaw puzzles, chug some coffee ...

I'm the weirdo who stays behind making photos on her phone.

I can't help myself.

Perhaps I'm an app-aholic?

good grief.

Where was I going with this post ... oh yes, to America ...

where I spied some scintillating rust at the shipyard

big pieces of steel marking the passage of time.

[ this one is for all my rust-nut friends ... you know who you are ]

We're all marking time ...
it's a big news night here in America.

These periodic supply runs off-island are nothing
if not exhausting, so what could be better fortification

than hot n' spicy organic soup ...

which again, I ate in my jeep ...

surely this comes as no surprise  [ grin ]?

These are only simple things, really ...

in comparison to decisions being made in the States this day, they are fluff.  As I write
it is early evening here on the west coast & we have
hours to go before we know.

I wonder where this country is going next?

At the toll booth the way was clear:  an arrow for  *go* and an X for *stop* ...

if only it were that easy.

See you on the other side, my friends ...
in the meantime, it may be time for another simple thing ~ a stiff brandy.



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