And there’s a nest with two baby parrots in a hollow tree at eye level from our deck. There are howler monkeys in the jungle, good diving under the waves and cold beers in the fridge. I’m falling behind with my posts, what with all the activities and the naps.
This is our fifth day in Panama, and in the tradition of travel writers and war correspondents, I’m a little bit drunk. Well, no, that’s inacurate, I’m tired, bone weary dead tired. Today was quite a day. Though, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. First, a big caveat, being on vacation I don’t want to spend too much time playing at being Hemingway or London or Melville. Which means I don’t want to spend precious moments at the keyboard and not at the beach or wherever. So please be indulgent with my grammar. I’ll reread myself once, tops, and then post. So yeah, all sorts of mistake and infelicities will abound. Also, I took a bunch of photos with my no sim iPhone 5, but it seems to have died for good, so, for the second time this year, I have lost pics, I’m sure I’ll be able to retrieve them eventually, but for now, as I sit outside our rented house, listening to crashing waves and drinking a beer before going to sleep, it is of little help.
New passport. Ten years of empty pages to fill out with exotic visas, to record our adventures on. Ten years before the passport expires. How old will you be in a decade? That’s the promise and the threat. That’s also the moment you choose how to look at life.
I have not posted as much as I like lately and not much about diving. My brain is a little scattered by a new contract, where I’m encountering a steeper learning curve than expected, or perhaps I’m a touch slower than advertised, jury is still out on that, but meh. Also we have not been diving in a while (I’m not ready for ice diving, doubt I will ever be) and most of you already know all of my scuba stories.
Ultimately of course the sugar shack maple syrup making experience would be pointless if it wasn’t about food. Well, food and family. You don’t prepare 50 000 calories worth of dishes for yourself, at least I hope not.
Logging is a traditional occupation for the winter months if you’re a farmer, it’s also bloody hard work. It keeps you in shape provided you don’t loose any fingers, you should see the tough as nails 80 year olds around here. Even today it’s hard work and we have hydraulic splitters, gas powered chainsaws, plus quads and tractors to lug the wood around. I really have a hard time imagining the amount of sheer strength and hours it took a mere 70 years ago to turn trees into firewood. Lumberjacks were the original cross-fitters, but probably less douchey. I mean I’m sure they could talk about other stuff. Cheap shot, I know.