'Round Cat.

Xavier building things.



Churches.






School uniforms.




A bus stop in never-never land.

Red.

One thing I realized about tropical places (I guess I knew it before) is that a 'natural' color scheme is completely altered - almost at odds - from what I would generally consider nature's colors. Those branches above are dead and so they have a gray, muted tone - the tone of many things I would think are 'natural.' But here, turquoise and bright red and hot pink and bright yellow and chartreuse are all completely legitimate and genuine.

The Hermitage on Cat Island.

Since I am the daughter of my father, I insisted that we climb the highest mountain in all of the Bahamas..."mountain" is perhaps stretching it in this case. It rises only 206 feet above sea level, but it is still the highest point on these islands. Up there on that rise sits the Hermitage of Cat Island, built by Father John Hawes circa 1940. It is a replica of 12th century abbeys in Europe and hermit "Father Jermone," as he was called, lived up there all alone. He came to the island to retire - he was an architect - but also to meditate and die. But when he came he found a grand connection to the native people and ended up building six churches, one school, one monastery, one convent, one heritage and a medical clinic for their communities. Up here he would sleep and pray, and he was always seen barefoot.

Des coquillages miniscules.

In Marguerite's honor (because these are being shipped to her), and as she would say with squinted eyes and with little fingers pinching the object and thrusting it close to your eyes: "tout petit, petit, petit, petit, petit"...

Benoît.

That is his name. I spotted him scampering quickly and ran after. He just stopped and looked at me at some point, and then ran toward me. I made a cat noise, rarr, and then he froze in place, both mitts up in position to fight. I called for Xavier to come quick to have a look at this fella. This is what happened when he did:


Foiled.


Oh, what to do now...




Not this.


ET-mad.


Triumphant once again.


Equally...

Meow.

Oh my. I keep telling myself it couldn't possibly be real, but it is. I shall not be returning to NYC. Or any other place. I've submitted my CV. I don't know if I am qualified to stay, but I think so.








Xavier conducts business in the water. At first, I kept wishing he would drop his phone in the water, but then I remembered that he found this place, marvelous creature.

Kayaking with Xavier.

He cracks me up. This is the thing that saves our relationship. He makes me laugh so hard. Almost tipping over into the water. Every time I turned around, he was in a different position. And as we were paddling down the 'creek,' he was singing/whistling/humming Elvis. The only other souls we've seen up to this point here paddled past and told him "You are way too young to be singing that." Il n'est pas d'accord. He disagrees.

Yes.

We are happy.

Cat Island.

First, the trip. We flew into Nassau last night and had an early morning flight on a very small plane to a very small island in the Bahamas: Cat Island. The plane carried 19 people and we were the only tourists on it. Fantastic work, Xavier. The plane itself had some charming and terrifying aspects to it.



That propeller, for instance. It looked and sounded like it would stop pirouetting at will.



We sat in the emergency exit row. Voilà ! The instructions:



But we were reassured by the confidence-inspiring sign posted in the plane.



The airport when we arrived on Cat Island was a surprise (hut/trailer). The ticket counter was to die for though.