Monthly Archives: February 2016

Iguanas in the Sand

Iguanas in the Sand

One thing I’ve discovered after six years of time spent in La Manzanilla is that it is never going to be the same experience two years (and often two days) in a row.  One year the beach was covered by thousands of crystalline mounds of jellyfish that looked like snow globes that had wound up in the wrong climate.  Another year, the beach was covered with coral, yet another with stones.  One year we couldn’t swim because of a red tide and another due to all the sea lice (miniscule jellyfish larvae) in the water.  Last year, three different mantas and a large sea turtle beached themselves,  I found a blue-footed booby washed up on the sand and helped to set out hundreds of tiny sea turtles to make their way out into the ocean.  There was also a month of feeding frenzy as hundreds of pelicans, gulls and other sea birds dived like kamikazes into the ocean around me and this ritual was repeated day after day.

This year, for the first month I was here, there were practically no birds–a signal as sure as the vanishing of fish tacos at Pedro’s that the fish had moved elsewhere due to those same warm waters that had caused Hurricane Patricia.  In this fifth week of my stay, the fish have come back, although not in the numbers of former years.

But as in other years, there have been a number of rewards that compensated for days I couldn’t (wouldn’t) go into the ocean due to the opening of the lagoon and its drainage into the ocean. The resultant dirty water and odor caused me to walk farther up the beach than I have recently and those journeys led to the three different adventures involving iguanas that are pictured below:

(Click on first picture to enlarge photos and then click on each arrow to advance to the next photo.)

Today I was fortunate enough to meet the man who created the iguana sculpture.  His name is Mario Gugnon, a retired hospital maintenance coordinator from Quebec.  He says he found the large driftwood piece several years ago and to him it looked like an iguana with it’s left hind foot caught in a trap.  He added the palm fronds and has been doing so each year since.  In between Mario’s visits, the manager of the campground puts it away in safe keeping.  When I asked if he worked in other media he said no, he was not an artist.  He just likes decorating things.  In illustration, he pointed out their tastefully appointed and comfortable little terraza under the canopy.  But that is the subject for a different posting. (Update: I’ve now made that post as well. You can read it HERE.)

La Manzanilla is the perfect town and beach for someone who dreads repetition. It has been a new adventure every day this trip and I can’t type, edit and post fast enough to keep up with the stories.  Another day, another saga.  Thanks for joining me as I try to take it all in.

*

Sea lice – stay safe at the beach!

http://www.buysafesea.com/sea_lice.php

are actually the microscopic larvae of jellyfish and other ocean stingers which contain the same nematocysts (stinging cells) as mommy and daddy. In many areas of the Gulf and Caribbean the primary culprit causing “sea lice” infestations is the larvae of the thimble jellyfish.

The Rutted Road

The Rutted Road

It’s been two years since I wrote about the bad decision that led to life-threatening events that turned into one of the most exciting adventures of my lifetime.  If you haven’t already read about my life in Ethiopia in the 1 1/2 years that led up to the revolution that deposed Haile Selassie, go HERE. After spending an hour finding links to the different segments of that story and getting ready to post this, I see that I posted a link to this story in July of 2015, so if you’ve already read it, you may choose not to read it again.  I’ll post another response to this prompt later today.  if you haven’t read it and have some time, then go to the link above. (In fact, I meant to post this twelve hours ago but just found it in drafts.)

The Prompt: The Road Less Traveled––Pinpoint a moment in your past where you had to make a big decision. Write about that other alternate life that could have unfolded.

Leading a Life

It does no good to think about roads that we don’t follow.
The ones we take are filled with life, the ones we don’t are hollow.
The past can be a vessel that we fill time and again
distracting us from drinking draughts from the life we’re in.
Regrets are petals thrown upon a river rushing past.
Better to exhaust our funds on flowers that will last.
A person always looking back is one that must be led.
A more proactive pose to take is facing straight ahead.

The Prompt: The Road Less Traveled––Pinpoint a moment in your past where you had to make a big decision. Write about that other alternate life that could have unfolded.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/the-road-less-traveled/

Flower of the Day: Sunflower!

 

Version 2

http://ceenphotography.com/2016/02/20/flower-of-the-day-february-21-2016-gerbera/

Color Your World Lavender

(Click on first photo to enlarge and view all.)

http://jennifernicholewells.com/2016/02/20/color-your-world-lavender/

 

http://jennifernicholewells.com/2016/02/20/color-your-world-lavender/

More Laser Yellow for Cee

(Click on first picture to see enlargements of all three.  You don’t want to miss out on any detail of Scrub Daddy!!!!)


When I published  a picture of this sponge given to me in my Xmas stocking by my sister, she put a name to it by saying they had a “Scrub Daddy,” too, that they hadn’t used yet.  I told her I loved it because not only did it have scrub power, but it fit perfectly into my Axion container and held back the soap while letting the foam from the soap enter the dishwater.  The exact right utilitarian things can bring such pleasure. I love my Scrub Daddy so much that I brought him to the beach with me.  Are there any more Scrub Daddy fans out there????

(Axion is a gritty paste dish soap much used in Mexico. You can run water over it and the top layer softens and creates suds for the dishwashing water.  The grit turns any sponge into a soft scrubber.  The face and eyes help let the soapy water out and the sponge is the exact size of the container.  Ahhhhhh.  Keep your diamonds.  Just send me another Scrub Daddy.)

Update 3-26-2016: Sadly, Scrub Daddy didn’t last long. Go HERE to read the latest.

Denise Brown Guest Blog: “La Manzanilla Tourist”

IMG_0083

In addition to being a fine writer, Denise Brown is an accomplished drummer and vocalist who plays several gigs weekly around La Manzanilla–most frequently at Palapa Joe’s. More information about her playing schedule is given after the poem.

La Manzanilla Tourist
…visitors are slightly different

How can you tell a tourist is aqui
Camera in hand bumping into me
Asking poor Lydia for plain white bread
Always looking up never ahead
Laying on the beach in all shades of red
Swimming in water most of us dread

How can you tell a tourist at the bar
Three margaritas goes way too far
You can’t drink like that in the heat of the day
They don’t like what they hear when they hear what I say

Come morning they rise looking so ghastly
Straight to the bano stepping so fastly
And out of the bathroom appearing quite ghostly
They say it’s the street food. I say it’s probably tequila (mostly.)

How can you tell a tourist is aqui
Just look around it’s no mystery.

Denise will play a final gig with Dave and Sally next Thursday, Feb. 25.  She also plays there with the Lounge Lizards on Fridays and will play with Bindu Gross at artis gallery at an event that begins at 4pm on Feb 24.

 

 

Denise Brown

Guest Blog by Fred Apstein

 

Crocodile Contemplates by Baba Rum Fred

5 AM Melaque bus station concrete seat with chipped tile. I feel like I’m in a Kerouac story. Lost boy, I wait for dawn, and an open restaurant. A metaphor for enlightenment and nourishment of the soul, on these lonely streets in the half light of a new day.

Finally, an open door at Posada Clements, a place I connect, with no evidence, to Samuel Clements (Mark Twain). I leave my bag and guitar, go in search of food, and, later, my friend Nathan. He awakes at my knock, and we go for coffee.

La Manzanilla. The Little Apple. A long sand beach, bracketed by lagoons, home to large crocodiles, at each end. The crocs appear to like their freshwater havens. They emerge only unwillingly, when washed into the sea by occasional torrential rains. What ancient wisdom sits in their reptilian minds, eyes and nostrils in the air, bodies and huge jaws below the surface, as they wait, older than mountains, patient, ready to erupt, jaws wide, deadly teeth bared, to rend the life out of a careless bird or dog.

    We frolic, on the beach, and in the town, newcomers, where crocs, palms, and egret lived for millenea before our ancestors walked upright. We share the lizard brain, but our kind has upper lobes, the ability to rationalize. We bite the Little Apple, pretend to know good and evil. We are soft, and vulnerable. But somehow, neither crocs nor fevers have so far stemmed our impatient spread over the planet.

      The crocs are patient. When we have passed through, they will be where they have been. They will wait for whatever bird or beast follows us, as they waited for those that came before us.

       What ancient, simple wisdom did we share, and have we lost?

 

Since Fred doesn’t have his own blog, I asked if I could feature this piece by him in mine.

Color Your World: Laser Lemon

Lemony Snicket

(Click on first picture to enlarge and see gallery.)

http://jennifernicholewells.com/2016/02/19/color-your-world-laser-lemon/

Belly Talk

Version 2

(Abdominal areas  in shadow appear much larger than they actually are. Really!)

Belly Talk

Stomach, darling, first of all I’d like to tell you how indispensable you are.  Literally, you are irreplaceable in my life.  Aside from digesting my food, you separate my waist from my chest and keep my belts from straying.  You warn me about absolutely revolting subjects as well as food and are handy for nudging ahead in tight crowds.

That said, I need to bring up one large touchy matter.  For all the good you do in this world, do you need to be quite so large?  Lately, for instance, I’ve watched you extending your territory–venturing out into one plump donut extending around my back.  This makes looking at my rear view in the mirror extremely distressing.  “I never look at myself in back,” one friend told me years ago, but darling, that had been evident for years–testified to by the tight snarl of hair in the middle of her head.

But I digress.  You’re  awfully quiet.  I’m a bit worried that I might have offended.  But, the topic of magnitude of sound being brought up, I’ll continue.  Were you aware that you have taken to communicating with me at inopportune times?  A small growl after midnight to remind me of today’s brownies hiding in their microwave storage space safe from ants and marauding family members and friends?  That’s fine…and probably the real reason you were given a voice in the first place. But that long low rumble increasing in volume in the middle of the significant pause in the dialogue of the movie playing in a hushed movie theater?  Totally unacceptable. Other times your voice is uncalled for?  At the dentist’s office and in the throes of a long passionate kiss.  In teachers’ conferences and at ladies bridge afternoons.  No. No. No.  You are not invited in this capacity.  Yes, digest the margarita, the popcorn or the rich dessert.  Comment upon it? No.

That’s it, dear stomach.  I appreciate you. I know you are vital to my health and happiness.  You provide me with countless pleasures–those pleasures increasing with the years.  But, sweet middle of mine, if you could see your way clear to not increasing at a rate commensurate with my pleasures, I would appreciate it very much.  Oh.  Talking again, I see.  And probably not listening.  Oh well.  I hear your message loud and clear.  A pint of triple chocolate extra fudge gelato in the freezer?  Well, honey, this time you are speaking my language.  No one is around.  And it is totally acceptable!


The Prompt: Shape up or Ship out–Write a letter to the personality trait you like least, convincing it to shape up or ship out. Be as threatening, theatrical, or thoroughly charming as is necessary to get the job done.

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/shape-up-or-ship-out/