Nora & Her Family
in the Caymans
BW goes under the sea instead of over it. A 65 foot sub
that dives to 100 feet. Not my kind of entertainment as I
suspect I'd look for leaks the entire time. But he has a
great time. The sub runs along one of the coral walls deep
enough that the color red washes out. He sees turtles--my
only regret--and gets an up-close look at barracuda.
My morning consists of a work-out and an hour or so of
writing before I go down to swim. No toddlers today--or at
least no screaming ones. No flying buckets either. I see
white bodies, brown ones, red ones. One woman has a vivid
sunburn on her back, and oddly, the very distinct outline of
a hand between her shoulder blades very much like someone
rested a hand on her back while she fried.
I've discovered I can pretty much do nothing for a
stretch of time if there's nothing of MINE that has to be
dealt with. It's not my living room that needs to be picked
up, my phone that has to be answered--though a number of
people around the pool have cell phones and the sound of
them ringing always surprises me. Most of this vacation has
been blissfully mindless. Not a bad way to spend a couple of
weeks.
This is our last full day. BW is going parasailing. I am
not.
Nora
Nora's Cayman
reports are ©
2001 by Nora Roberts & ADWOFF
All Rights
Reserved
