The Monday after Thanksgiving is always a challenge to get back into the swing of things. I was spoiled having my 4 day weekend and now it's back to reality. The weather held up over the weekend, it was 50' and sunny so no complaints there. I worked on a couple trips today. I like when people give me a challenge. They tell me they want to go somewhere, give me their dates and then they tell me what their budget is. It's my job to find all possible options for them to create the perfect getaway. Most people think of all-inclusive resorts in the Caribbean or Mexico but there is another type of an all-inclusive offered. You can visit a Dude Ranch! What's included varies by each Ranch but many offer all meals and activities (horse back riding, fishing, archery etc). It's rustic setting in the middle of nature with few people around can be a unique getaway compared to the crowded beaches and long lines found at many of the bigger all inclusive resorts along the sunny coastlines. You can find accommodations ranging from very basic (camping) to luxurious family suites. This type of vacation is not for everyone but for those wanting an active, hands on experience with the land and the Ranch lifestyle it doesn't get much better. Check out the following link to see if a Dude Ranch might be an ideal vacation for you. http://www.duderanch.org/index.php

SPIRITS YOU CAN VISIT AT THE WORLDS MOST HAUNTED PLACES

THE MANSFIELD REFORMATORY, Ohio

I love to be spooked and the world has no shortage of ghost stories and tales from beyond. Whenever I travel I like to find out about any local legends or haunts that I can visit. It seems that seeking out departed spirits has its way of making us in the living feel more alive.

Winchester Mystery House located in San Jose California is one of the most bizarre haunted places I have ever heard about. The house is a creation of Sarah Winchester, the widow of the gun master William Winchester. After Williams death she is believed to have taken the word from a local psychic that told her she must build on her house continuously to confuse the evil spirits that also lived in the house. If she stopped building her life would also stop. Sarah became obsessed with the house, she began building doors that led to nowhere, windows into walls that didn't open and stairs that lead into the ceiling. After working on it for 38 years and until her death in 1937 this house was a true piece of work built essentially by madness. Much of the work done was believed to have been inspired by the guilt she felt for the people that died at the shot of the Winchester gun.http://www.winchestermysteryhouse.com/sarahwinchester.cfm

ROBERT THE DOLL: Key West, Florida
Robert is not the kind of doll you want to take home to your child. He is said to be a haunted spirit uncertain with misbehavior. A man named Eugene that lived in Key West was given Robert in 1904 from a Bahamian servant that was into voodoo and black magic and wasn't fond of the family. After inheriting the doll, Eugene began talking about Robert as if he were real and acting very strange around those that knew him. Those actions would carry on with him until his death in 1974. After his death new owners moved into the house under one condition. Robert was to remain in the house, in his room upstairs that overlooked the street. Passerby's began to say they would see Robert move from window to window in his room watching them from above. Today you can find him in the East Martello Museum in Key West. His antics haven't let up in the museum and he is known to disappear from the locked glass case he is held in only to reappear days later. The one thing I have learned  is to always ask him before taking his picture. I didn't ask him my first time I went to see him and my camera stopped working after attempting to take a picture of him.
www.robertthedoll.org

Check out the 10 most haunted places on Earth at: www.environmentalgraffiti.com/news-seven-most-haunted-spots-earth

DREAMING ABOUT TREEHOUSES

Me at my favorite treehouse, the 'I and I' reggae bar in Caye Caulker Belize

                        People that say they have no regrets in life are full of shit. No matter what, there is always something that you could look back and say, I really would have done that differently. My recent regret stems from when I lived in Portland, Oregon for 5 years. There was a treehouse resort located in Cave Junction, OR. It's about 4 hours from Portland and unfortunately I never made it there to stay. It's called Out'n'About Treesort and is a brilliant creation of Michael Garnier who built 18 individual tree houses to rent on his property along with classes on building your own tree house, crafts and music. This place will make you feel like your a kid if your 5 or 50. You can zip line, hoarse back ride, hike, swim and learn a new skill in an environment that rivals nature in every way. I am a HUGE tree house advocate (if done responsibly) and my ultimate dream in life is to find my mountain top spot in the world, with a view of the ocean and build a tree house to retire. I am leaning toward Panama or Costa Rica but this place gives me some much needed inspiration her in the states.
http://www.treehouses.com/treehouse/treesort/home.html.

THANK YOU SALLY STRUTHERS

                                If it wasn't for Sally Struthers and her heartbreaking commercials that played during my Saturday morning TV shows growing up I may never have visited one of the most unique countries in Africa. Senegal in West Africa is an often overlooked destination that is filled with vibrant culture and a spiritual connection to the people that live there and it's absolutely breathtaking. My interest in this country began when I was 16 and I watched a Sally Struthers commercial about starving children in Africa. I sat on my couch eating a huge pile of pancakes with fresh blueberries barley able to finish it. The commercial came on and I sat with tears in my eyes. For the first time in my life I felt guilt. I felt guilty I had so much food right in front of me and the emaciated little girl on the TV had nothing. At that moment I grabbed the phone and called the Children Christian Fund to sponsor a little girl somewhere in need.

I waited for weeks for my packet of information about my new friend. I was thankful I had a steady job at the local video store so I could afford the $21 a month it cost to sponsor her. Then one day the letter I had been anxiously waiting for arrived! I was now the sponsor of a little 6 year old from Senegal, Africa named Ndeba Sene. There was a picture included of a straight faced serious girl with sad eyes. I ran inside, grabbed an atlas and located Senegal on the map. Located at the western most tip of West Africa it poked out from the continent like a curious birthmark. I then grabbed a pen and paper and wrote my first letter to Nedeba introducing myself. At the instant I signed my name on that letter I knew my life would never be the same.

For the next 7 years we corresponded back and forth and I would receive vaccination updates, drawings from her, family photos and progress reports throughout the year. Since she spoke the African language of Serer and French and I spoke English I always received the French written letter and then an English version that was translated by a Mr. Pierre Karma, a coordinator for the Children's Christian Fund. Then one day after 7 years from when this friendship started I got an opportunity of a lifetime to meet my dear friend Ndeba.

One of my best friends that lives in Atlanta, GA called me to tell me interesting news. Her brother was landscaping with a guy that was from Senegal and married to a US woman and living in Atlanta. He and his wife had developed a project to help struggling people in Senegal called the Jef-Jel Project. The duo were planning a trip there in a month to go work on the project and were looking for volunteers to join them on the venture. I had to pay for the airfare and pay modest fee for room and board . It just so happened the base of their project was located in the coastal town of Saly, just about 30 miles from where Ndeba and her family lived. I had my bags packed before I even received my vaccinations.
Before I knew it I was on a plane leaving the gray gloomy skies of the Pacific Northwest and seeing the dry, thirsty heat of Africa for the first time. I adjusted fairly well to my arrival and was amazed at the drastic difference in culture and landscape that surrounded me. Senegal is a primarily Muslim country and I loved all the Mosques and spiritual buildings poking up toward the sky from the dried earth as if they were trying to enter the sky. Although the buildings were covered in earth tones the accents of the vibrant pink Bougainvillea and various bright flowers that were found growing everywhere made it look like a water color painting.

After a few days upon my arrival I soon found myself riding on horse and cart with my new friend Kellie, looking for Ndeba's village. Luckily Kellie spoke French and Wolof fluently so I let her do the talking as we meandered our way through dusty covered villages. Finally after an hour so of bumping along the sand on the horse and cart we approached a compound of a dozen or so thatched huts and a cement school. Kellie asked in Wolof about the family name and suddenly I saw a familiar face appear from around the corner. Her deep, sad eyes looked up at me and I recognized them instantly from the pictures over the years. She would instantly look away if we made eye contact as if trying to figure out if I were real or a ghostly apparition. I jumped off the cart and ran toward her but trying not to scare her. I gave her a hug and told her, 'Enchante' meaning nice to meet you in French.



Within minutes everyone in the whole village got wind that Kellie and I were in town and came running out to greet us. I admit I felt like a celebrity with everyone making such a big deal about our appearance. Mr. Pierre Kama was also there to take me on a tour and introduce me to everyone. I recognized her brother and 2 sisters from the pictures. Ndeba held my hand while we walked around but she never looked at me in the eye or smiled, not once. I assumed she was overwhelmed by the whole situation. I then met her blind mother who gave me 5 chicken eggs as her appreciation for all I have done for her and her family. I had brought a care package for Ndeba and her family with some clothing and items I thought would be fun for them. Pierre then walks up to me with an armful of large envelopes and sets them on the ground.

There were 20 or so of the letters I had written Ndeba. There was also a wall size chalk board on the wall that showed all the sponsors in the area and what was received when. I was grateful all of my contributions actually made it to her.

We spent the whole day with Ndeba and her family and her serious stare never broke. I went inside the modest 8X8 thatched hut that she lived in with her mother and 4 siblings. There were 2 beds in it with a dirt floor. There were clothes hanging from the sides. I couldn't believe 6 people lived in this room. They walked me around the compound introducing me to the natural healing ingredients growing around the land and gave me an unforgettable understanding of their culture and lifestyle. The sun began to set in the distance turning the sky from a blood orange to a vibrant pink and Kellie and I decided that was our cue to see ourselves off. As we walked back to the horse and cart to leave everyone in the village walked out to see us off. I hugged each person, which took a good hour and took in their infectious smiles. I gave Ndbea a heartfelt hug and lifted her chin up. To my surprise she had tears running down her tense cheeks. I could see in her eyes she was sad I was leaving but I could tell she was glad that I came. I squeezed her hand and told her I would see her again' Ba Suba Se',  meaning see you next time. For the first time in 7 years I saw a smile on her youthful face and it was that moment I knew this journey was well worth the wait.

A Blue Moon is when a full moon occurs twice in a calendar month. They are rare and significant throughout the year. They are a cause for celebration in many cultures and treated as a Spiritual miracle in others.

BELIZE IT OR NOT....

                          Belize is an amazingly diverse country in Central America. Often overlooked by its neighbors in Costa Rica and Mexico this gem boasts some of the best snorkeling and ancient Mayan remains in the Americas. In a single day you can go snorkeling with sharks and manta rays and within an hour you can be deep in the jungles exploring the Mayan Ruins. My first trip to Belize was an adventure and love story I'll never forget.

                         I decided to travel to Belize by default. I was actually holding tickets in my hand to go to Turkey and was planning to depart on September 13, 2000. Then September 11th made it's mark in history. The tensions surrounding the U.S. and travel to the country overcame my threatened safety and I decided to change my tickets for another less tense destination at that moment. As a Travel Agent I have access and inside travel deals that are not always found with the public. I checked almost every destination on the map and there happened to be 2 seats on American Airlines for my friend and I to Belize. It must have been meant to be.
                  We flew from Seattle to Belize City. When we arrived we took a 20 minute taxi ride to the ferry dock to catch our ferry transfer to the modest island of Caye Caulker. These ferries were not like the large ones I was used to in Seattle. Our ferry in Belize was a packed speedboat of locals and tourists heading to the one of the many island lining Belize's Caribbean coast. Caye Caulker was the 1st stop. The boat sped across the Caribbean for almost an hour before we stopped. I could barley see anything but the tropical waters around me since the wind from the speed was making me cover my face.
We arrived at the long wooden dock poking out from the island and were helped out of the boat by the driver. "Have a good time." He said and then they sped off. Gabby and I stood on the dock holding our backpacks watching the boat venture off to the next island. We both burst out laughing, "So this is Caye Caulker?" We said in unison. We looked around at the shore ahead of us and smiled at the brightly colored houses in front of us and the palm trees swaying with the ocean breeze. We walked up the dock and made our way down the sandy street looking for somewhere to sit and have something to eat and a beer. It was only 11:00am in Belize but it was 5'oclock somewhere. It was hard to tell what was someone's house and what was a business. All the buildings were on stilts and made of wood that looked that they had been weathered in the salt water and wind and maybe built more than once. People passed and smiled always offering a friendly "Hola!.
                        We found a restaurant nearby and sat down. Both of us ordered beans and rice and a Belizean Belekin beer. The restaurant resembled more of a run down storage room than a bar and I loved it! After refueling we decided to walk around the around to find somewhere to stay. Caye Caulker is only 2 miles by 1/2 mile so we knew it wouldn't take too long to find some where to stay. There are no cars allowed on the island, only golf carts and bikes. We made our way to the south end of the island toward the cemetery. It was a beautiful resting place for the deceased overlooking the Caribbean. Just next to it was the Paradise Hotel and Restaurant and we rented a room for there for $17 USD a night and called it home for now. We dropped off our bags and were then were off to explore the rest of the island.
          To my surprise the hotel was also next to another beautiful sight to my eyes. The 'I and I' reggae tree house bar. The reggae was blaring from the tops of the trees and I ran up the stairs like I was about to discover gold. To me, I had. The bar was 3 levels with a thatched roof and had seat swings to sit in. I ordered a beer and listened to the reggae as it consumed my soul watching the Caribbean Sea in the distance. I pinched my leg, convincing myself I haven't made it to heaven just yet.
We explore the rest of the island and check out the dozen or so restaurants and bars. There are bamboo stands set up along an area of the beach selling jewelry and T-shirts etc. The island is made up of native Mayans and Dread locked Rastas from the Caribbean. Everyone is friendly, offering us to come their way and say hello. We made our way to the north end of the island called the Split. It's where the island split after Hurricane Hattie in 1961 and there is an open thatched bar there where everyone gathers to watch the sunset. It's filled with locals and tourists (mostly European). By the end of sunset I believe we now know everyone on the island.
                      We spend the next couple days relaxing and swimming in the warm, clear bath water of the Caribbean and dining on fish, beans and rice. We would watch the sunset at the Split while having a drink and then ending the night at the I and I. I was beginning to feel very at home here. Gabby and a local man named Carlos became a friendly pair, teaching each other about their own cultures. He ran a snorkeling trip to Ray and Shark Alley and invited us to come. We took him up on his offer and decided to go and see what it was about. I had been on countless whale tours in the Northwest and was lucky if we saw one so I wasn't too worried about seeing a shark since this was a  fear of mine. We gathered some snorkeling gear and headed out to sea. After about an hour in the boat heading away from Caye Caulker the boat stops. Carlos tells us, "Ok girls here we are. Get your gear on, it's time to meet your new friends."
I was staring off about 10 feet or so from the boat and didn't see a thing. Confident, I put my gear on and went to step into the water off the ladder. As soon as I look down into the water toward my feet I screamed. There must have been 20 black 3-4 foot Nurse Sharks and a dozen Manta Rays swimming under and around the boat. Carlos jumped in and assured us it was ok. My heart raced at the thought of swimming with these creatures. I held my breath and jumped in. Although I think the sharks were more scared of me than I was of them since they left after only a few minutes. The Manta Rays on the other hand stayed and played with me, almost like a dolphin. They seemed intelligent and to stare at me in my eyes. I was intrigued. This was a once in the lifetime chance to see these creatures up close I was going to enjoy every minute of it.
Gabby and Carlos continued to hang out as I did with people that we met from all around the globe. It was a great destination for backpackers and travelers on a budget. After about 5 days on the island we were ready to head to the jungle for a few days. We took the water taxi back to Belize City and from there took a taxi to the interior city of San Ignacio which took about an hour. Situated on the boarder of Guatemala it was the perfect stopping point . We spent one night there and were soon on our way in the morning to the ancient ruins of Tikal in Guatemala. Upon entering the country across the boarder I couldn't help but notice the armed men hiding in the ditch as we passed. The foliage became an overgrown jungle over the streets and elderly men riding on donkeys passed every few miles.
 
As we became closer and closer to Tikal the more anxious I became to see this ancient land. We finally arrived at the park and were able to get out and stretch. I took a deep breath and and listened to the howler monkeys in the trees communicate with one another. We had made it to Tikal!We met with a local guide who took us on a 3 hour tour and informed us of Tikal's ancient history. http://tikalpark.com/.

The ruins were an overwhelming presence and we hiked to the top of Temple 4. It was one of the most extraordinary travels I had yet and I absorbed all I could while there. Ruins always creep me out since they are just that, Ruins of an empire that ended without will. The  history that happened  there did make itself known by the impressive structures that were built throughout that stand watching over Tikal. We eventually took our taxi back to San Ignacio for the night and spent the evening at a local bar in town where all the locals met to dance to Punta music. We danced the night away and tried our best to chat with everyone with the limited Spanish that we knew. The next day we were on our way back to the ferry to go back to Caye Caulker. I found myself missing the 'I and I' and Gabby missed her new friend Carlos. When we arrived back on the island everyone greeted us as if we had been long lost friends they had not seen in years. We spent the next few days swimming in the Belize sun and continuing to get to know our new found friends. I got my wish and spent the night sleeping high up in the I and I tree house after a long night. The locals on the island made us feel like Caye Caulker was our home and we felt like it was our home too.
Leaving this tropical paradise was not easy. Half the island showed up at the Split on our last night to say goodbye and we danced to reggae watching the sun set and continued dancing until we saw the sun rise again. Sadly in the morning we gathered our things and waited for the taxi to pick us up. With a handful of people there on the dock to see us off it was time to say goodbye to Caye Caulker. Gabby said goodbye to Carlos and I said adios to the island I have fallen in love with. My heart cried as we sped away back to the mainland on the ferry boat once again.
         I think of Belize often and can't wait to return again. Gabby couldn't wait, she did return a month later after keeping in touch with Carlos. She ended up moving from her cloud covered island in the Pacific Northwest to the sun drenched island in the Caribbean. She stayed for a few months with Carlos and lived life as a true Belizean and then decided Belize and Carlos were a better option as a vacation than to call home for now and moved back to Washington. I fell in love with Belize's people, land, music and culture. Do I daydream about returning again someday? You better Belize it!

THE LAND OF WOOD WATER AND REGGAE

                 There is something about Reggae music that is intoxicating. It's that first thump of base that dances off the strings of the guitar and I lose my breathe. It's a bit of an addiction I admit. I crave it daily and without it I truly wouldn't exist.
This would be my third trip to Jamaica and the one that that confirmed my belief in the saying 'Third times the Charm'. Jamaica was my fantasy destination. The ocean rivaled that of my favorite turquoise necklace and the music that filled the air was the heartbeat of an island known for it's reggae music. Everywhere I went I could hear the soundtrack of Jamaica's
struggling past. This was my third trip and this trip I was on a mission to pay respect to one of my heroes, Bob Marley. I arranged for a trip to his mausoleum at 56 Hope Rd in Nine Miles. Nestled high in the Blue Mountains rested a legend so many know of but know very little about. I arranged for a taxi to guide me to the place that I have heard about for so long. The place where Bob Marley grew from a child into a man and the place that inspired a revolution in music, a country that was taught politics through music.
              The ride to Nine Miles was an adventure as you wind through the mountains on a narrow well traveled road. Always careful not to hit the passing school kids dressed in uniform or the goats wandering the streets. Nine Miles is hidden in the mountain tops with a clear view of the horizon below. Nine Miles keeps an eye on the village and land that scapes it's surroundings. After a couple hours in the car we arrive to the top of the road. There nestled at the top of the mountains was a white structure painted White, Red, Yellow and Green painted around the property and a Jamaican flag flapping freely each time the wind blew.
              The taxi driver remained in the car as I made my way to the front of the property. My heart began to pound as I walked through the tall iron gates welcoming me in, reminding me of the beginning of my favorite reggae song. Within a few minutes I was approached by a slender Rasta man with dreadlocks hanging past his hips. He greeted me with a smile and the most peculiar laugh I have ever heard.
"Irie! Welcome to the home of Mr. Bob Marley. I will show you around and then you can take your Irie time getting to see da place on your own." I followed him as he pointed out the large rock on the ground as the inspiration to the song 'Rock was my Pillow', herbal plants that were planted by Bob himself, and a soccer ball Bob used to play with. I could hardly understand him with his thick Patio accent and outrageous laugh between sentences. He then advised me to take off my shoes and follow him into a tiny white cement building covered in vines and tropical brush. I walked in and saw a single bed laying against the back wall with an old cover and pillow on it. There were tourist posters promoting Jamaica on the walls and the room was considerably cooler than outside. The guide told me this was Bob's bed that he slept on and walked out, leaving me to take it in. I sat on the bed and then laid down, resting my head on the pillow. It smelled of an earthly scent, of wood and water. I laid staring at the blank wall feeling a connection to what Bob must have felt here. Laying here in this modest structure dreaming about the world that is beyond these walls.


This is me in front Bobs childhood home at 56 Hope Rd.

                         I couldn't help wonder at what point did he realize the impact he would have on a nation and the world.I then made my way outside and was told to enter the larger building next to his home. This was a newer white washed cement building as well with a narrow arched door and 3 tall stained glass windows peeking from above. "My friend, this is the mausoleum. This is where Bob's body rest in peace." He waited outside as a I entered. My eyes focused on the center of the room where a mighty marble box standing 7 feet tall was exposed. I stared at the structure with tears in my eyes knowing Bob's body was a mere inches away. I placed my hand on the cold marble and suddenly heard the sound of thunder rumble outside. It felt as though it were coming from beneath my feet being so high in the mountains. The sound of a soft rain began to sound on the roof as tears began to stream my face. This was a spiritual experience for me there's no doubt . I had finally made it to Nine Miles, to pay respect to my spiritual hero Bob Marley and the heavens were letting me know it was taking place.
                  The rain stopped after 20 minutes and I decided to walk outside to catch my breath, I realized I had been holding it the whole time. I walked off to the side of the property where a balcony hung over the hillside and looked around at the homeland of a legend. Trying to imagine the sights he saw and sounds he heard to inspire such a soul was a poetic journey in itself. My eyes soon focused on a woman sitting below me under a sun hat, something about her seemed familiar. After a minute or two she noticed me and looked up. "Hello der. The rain about to pass ya know." She says. I stared at her face trying to figure out where I have seen her before. "Looks like it is. It's beautiful here." I call out to her and she lets out a chuckle, "Always Irie." At that instant I knew exactly who she was, "Mama B! Is that you?" I asked? She gave me another look, surprised I knew her name. "Yeah girl. My first time here in 2 years and don't have much time but had to see my Bob." I couldn't believe my luck! I had just met Bob Marley's mother. I didn't want to bother her but stood still for a while leaning over the railing while listening to the birds sing, crickets chirp and the recent rain fall effortlessly off the leaves of the trees unto it's next stage in life. Even here with no man made music playing I could hear a collection of sounds worthy of an album.
            I made my way back to the taxi thankful for the experience I just had. Here I was, I came to pay respects to my hero for the end of his life and found myself making contact with the woman who gave him life. I am blessed for this journey and hold it dear to my heart. I'm not going to lie, I feel as if Bob were there that day looking over his mother who misses him greatly and letting me know that he also believes that third times the charm.

RUM UNDER THE SUN

               Living in Key West was somewhat of a dream to me. When I think back of my years living there I often laugh out loud to myself thinking of the mad life that existed there. There's no denying it was beautiful, relaxed and often surreal but there's also no denying it created some havoc in my life I never expected. I would ride my bike around the island feeling like I was living inside of a painting  with the flowers around me exploding with vibrant colors and the ocean changing shades of blue throughout the day. The humid Florida heat had its way of slowing the whole island down, sometimes a little too much.
               Locals in Key West are on a completely different time clock than the rest of the East Coast .The evening usually didn't start until  midnight for many and continued into the next afternoon.  I quickly found a job working the front desk at a beautiful family run Inn and also ran a gift shop at a popular Bar and Restaurant just off  busy Duval Street. I had not a care in the world as I rode my bike from job to job and met new people from around the world daily, it was pure heaven to me. I met some of the most unique friends living there and many I still talk to today. My boss from the Inn I worked at is now one of my best friends and I can't imagine going through life without knowing her. I do think you have to be somewhat 'unique' to live in Key West. Just about anything goes there. You can be your true self and no one's going to judge you being true to their motto, ' One Human Family'. That statement can be found making it's way through town in many ways. When I first got to Key West I lived in the Seashell Hostel for 2 months until I found an Attic to rent out. The hostel was the perfect introduction to the southern most place in the states and proved to be huge lesson in what to expect while living in the keys.


        I even hung out with Rob Lowe (not the actor) and ate shrimp, oysters and sushi everyday for the 2 years that I lived there. Found out the hard way later that Rob Lowe was actually wanted by the authorities for fraud and I guess those all you can eat crab leg dinners 'on him' were really on someone else's good fortune. When I first arrived in Key West I found a job quickly thanks to my now dear friend Jamie and lived between the hostel and a van. Another girl had just arrived in town, Samantha and she was my right wing girl. We went everywhere together. Then there was also Corey, Rob, Gail, Narise, Renee and Irish Tom. Irish Tom was unique Irish lad straight off the boat from Ireland to Key West. He was a leprechaun living under the rainbow of the Key West skies. He was a believer that  when it rained, it poured and when it poured it rained pure gold (his gold was actually pints of Guinness). Standing only 4'8 ft tall he would ride around town on his over sized Harley and turn heads like he was a super hero.

                                                             My Attic on William Street

                     I spent my time off  walking the beach and sitting for hours in the sand watching the boats pass by, and watching  tourists as they vacationed on my tropical play land. I soon became friends with the many homeless people that call the streets of Key West home. Sister Mary and Tommy were my favorites. Predictable in their stances along the Duval strip always certain I could find them on any given night. To me there was nothing better than getting a fresh coconut and adding a few shots of Rum to it while I wandered Duval looking for good spot to settle. The seafood was fresh and with my love for it I spoiled my taste buds. My mouth watered when I would be on my way to the bar for Conch fritters and Key West shrimp or when I would splurge and buy a piece of Key Lime Pie. The island is know for it's party's and I was happy to be at every one of them. On any given night it was easy to hear a party going on and walk right in, there was no shortage of good times that's for sure. The Keys are a natural inspiration  for artists and you can see the passion of the artists that call Key West home just about everywhere you look. The architecture of the houses standing proud are a work of art themselves. The galleries throughout the streets showing off their talent, and the famous entertainers that meet at sunset every night at Mallory Square are just the obvious creative souls. I found it was often the quiet hermit painting in his hidden bungalow that seemed to impress me most. Key West is also photographers dream. There is a photo op around every corner with its colorful streets, skies and quirky natives. Each evening the sun sets behind the blushing tangerine sky and that's when the real party begins. I tried my hand at screenwriting at the local college and explored a new area of my hobby. I found inspirations everywhere I found myself. My first step outside in the morning and taking a deep breath of heated salt air made me smile. I even dabbled in love while I was there and learned a hard lesson about death. It seems crazy I would leave such a paradise after all this praise but everything has it downside. I lived paycheck to paycheck and when 3 hurricanes halted work one year it made it difficult to survive.

             In 24 hours I made a decision to rent a car, pack all of my things I could fit in it and said goodbye to my last sunset in Key West as I watched it set in the review mirror heading north off the island. My new destination was Portland, Oregon. Just like the hurricanes that so frequently visit the Keys I blew into town, stirred up a little trouble and then left without warning and just like all hurricanes.. I will also be back.