GWENDA BOND
a writer on the high wire of life
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December 03, 2007
All Is Well
Our Beach
Originally uploaded by
gwenda
Very, very well.
Dec 3, 2007 2:02:27 PM
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Nattering
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Keep Everything Crossed
Most At Home I've Felt All Day Originally uploaded by gwenda I write this from the Miami-Dade County Public Library's main branch, which just happens to be across the street from the federal building, home of the passport office. If all goes according to the (new) plan, I'll swing over there and grab my shiny new passport (less than 24 hours, babee, since we discovered it was expired*), then we'll book back to the airport and get on the 7:25 flight to Montego Bay... arriving mere six hours or so after we were supposed to and after our compatriots. Are...
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Achieved!
And I finished the first full draft of le novel, which was my one and only goal for this week (besides swimming a lot and having fun; plus, Karen was there to applaud, making it even sweeter). Now we're sitting out next to Jake's enjoying the late afternoon sun and tonight we're having a bonfire on the beach. Then home home home to our very sad (and rightfully so) dogs and slightly less sad cat, in hopes of cheering them up. If you get the chance to visit Treasure Beach, Jamaica, I highly recommend it.
GWENDA BOND
A writer on the high wire of life.
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Posted by: TadMack | December 03, 2007 at 15:14
We HATES yous!
It's 27 degrees in your shiny, happy hometown. It was freezing and raining all day yesterday.
A real friend would have smuggled us into the country in her luggage!
just kidding (sort of). Hope you guyz are living the good life!
Posted by: melissa m. | December 03, 2007 at 22:12
I can only say that has been even more beautiful than Gwenda's photo suggests. Christopher has charmed the staff AND the local tiny package store where he buys flour, eggs and butter to make biscuits. When we went in to the package store the other night, the woman who runs it saw Christopher and started smiling. Christopher ordered two pounds of flour, caged a Jamaican cheese doodley kind of snack off the girl behind the counter who was eating a bag of them, explained to me that in Jamaica you buy eggs by the pound, not by the dozen, added a flat of Red Stripe and a bottle of wine to his order (which earned him a bit of eyerolling on the part of the proprietress, followed by laughter) and we sailed out into the night. In the distance, we heard the frogs in the marsh, and a car went by going perhaps a bit fast given the state of the narrow, sort of paved road, and dopplered reggae.
Posted by: Maureen McQ | December 04, 2007 at 11:21
My next novel is going to be called Doppler Reggae.
Posted by: Gwenda | December 04, 2007 at 16:43