Moving Back Aboard Soon

We have just today and tomorrow to go in this housesitting job.  Moya (the housesittee, I suppose) returns from Barbados tomorrow evening.

Each morning, WW heads off to English Harbour to work on Django with a gang of scrappers, grinders, painters, mechanics, you-name-its. He returns sweaty, smelly and tired each evening at about 5:30.

I, on the other hand, am in charge of Poppy and Lucy, who are dogs, and Black Cat who is, not surprisingly, a black cat (sex a mystery). I also oversee important things like Gregory the Gardener (lovely Haitian lad who calls me “sistah”); Eulah the Cleaning Lady who is elderly, moves at extreme slowness, and (as Moya says) “doesn’t do corners”; Paul the Swimming Pool guy; and Matthew the Car Washing Guy.  I am learning the lingo. On buses, when you want to get off, you say “bus stop”, and the bus does. When a worker wishes to communicate with the house at which he/she is working, the word is “inside”. Variously, Paul, Eulah, Gregory and Matthew have appeared and called “inside”. Being university-educated, I got it after about the third try. Also, people here actually exchange names. I am not an another anonymous housesitter. I am Mrs. Kathleen. Or sistah.

Our friend Roger the Boat-Minder fed us dinner here a couple of nights ago. He makes truly magnificent curries. He made a blazing roghan jhost (sp??), something with potatoes and bok choy (don’t fuss, it was fabulous), a superb pulao rice, and a salad. He made enough for a small army. Fortunately, we managed to get our friends Les and Anthea to join us or we’d still have had  buckets when Dana and Enn join us next Tuesday.

I walk the dogs in the morning, before it gets hot, and again in the mid- to late-afternoon. Then I feed them. Lucy is a delightful little mutt, abused in her childhood so she has certain issues with the leash, if it gets tangled about her. Poppy is 12, is not keen on Lucy, likes to roll in smelly things (gross) and eat herbivore poop (gross). I walk them with particular attention to preventing Poppy’s predilections.

Poppy on one of her chaises longues...no Lucys need apply

Miss Meows-A-Lot

Instructions on feeding Black Cat were “when it meows”. That turned into a day-long job. No wonder he/she/it is circular. Ten days won’t make much difference, but we’re now on a once-in-the-morning and once-in-the-afternoon feeding schedule. I am convincing myself the beast has a waistline.

Other chores: laundry, swimming in the pool, being eaten by mosquitoes. At night we have lovely mosquito nets. I am planning to introduce them at Lake Anne and pray they may work on black flies as well.

We move back onto Django tomorrow, after picking Moya up at the airport. Then we have to survive a couple of days and nights on the hard (even more mosquitoes than here). We hope to be launched on Monday.