This house is called the Olive Garden for two things I guess - It's drab olive colour, and the "jungle" that grows thick around it could be misconstrued as a garden. I find it quite relaxing. I snapped this self portrait on the last days off I had.
I love working here. I get up in the morning everyday, and though I may be tired, once I walk across the road to Ocean Frontiers, I am excited. Always looking forward to my first dive of the day. Meeting new and interesting people. Even when I am not diving, and I'm stuck on surface watch, looking out at the expanse of the Caribbean Sea knowing that below the boat the ocean floor drops to well below 6,000ft I am thrilled. There are mysteries down there, and new adventures waiting for me, new divers I train, or experienced divers. We get to live the dream together. It's just everything I've wanted.
I work hard, long days, with sometimes 4 or even 5 dives a day, but what is the alternative? Shoveling and wheelbarrowing. Or being stuck in an office. Or a classroom. I'll take my long days on a tropical Island thanks!
Last weekend I went to town with some coworkers in their Jeep. This vehicle is not like my jeep. It is a late 80's Jeep TJ that survived Hurricane Ivan, but would have been better off succumbing to the forces of nature. It does not have a roof. It has lots of rust. The rust though, allows the water deposited in the interior from storms, to just leak out the holes in the floor. It kind of makes sense... In a skewed tropical state of thinking. I enjoyed the sea breeze tussling my hair. Until it rained. Hard. We got very wet. I guess the upside is I was no longer as hot. Oh! And we went to the bar to get dry! That is where things took a turn for the worse.
Very quickly, we got to the pub, ordered drink and wings (it being Wing Wednesday). We had both BBQ and Hot. The hot weren't too bad. All day they had been egging me on to try to "Suicide" Hot Wings. I though if the Hot weren't too bad, and the Suicide were only 2 notches up the heat scale, how bad could they be? And, if you eat all 6 you get them for free. Easy peasy.... I thought. First, the bartender scoffed. Then she brought out the Liability Release and Waiver. I was scared. When the wings arrived my strategy was to eat them as fast as possible. Only six little wings! One and a half later, I was done, finished, crying. Ready to Vomit. Or commit suicide to make the pain go away. The pain lasted well into the night. The boys got their laugh, and I paid for my wings.
On a nicer note, I came home one night last week to a friendly little creature hanging out on my pillow -