Kamikaze Taxi & Broken Fingernails

Refreshed. I feel good. We felt guilty about taking a vacation. That's nutty. We worried about our small savings account. The flood taught us to not plan so much and to let go. SEVEN years of home renovation. If you don't let go, it will happen someday anyway. It all goes, so make the best of it. We decided at the last minute to go to Antigua.

I was a snappy little turtle when we left Nashville. My mind was racing in every direction but straight. We had the last seats on the plane. I tried to sit in an empty seat, but the people showed up at the last minute. I snapped at the lady. I was a joy to be with - ask David. I couldn't unwind.

When the plane landed, we went through custom & then to our taxi. There's many taxis, but ours is the one with the couple I snapped at on the airplane. Sweet. They didn't say hello. Wonder why. Take a moment and imagine where the couple is going. Yes, you are correct...same place we are going.

I had forgotten the joy of riding in a taxi on islands. You feel like you are paying someone to kill you. You will either die from a heart attack, a panic attack or from an accident. Your first clue that things may go wrong is the way your taxi looks. Your taxi has 2,001 dings, scratches, and dents. You zoom at 100 miles an hour on the wrong side of the road, and the scenery looks like a blur. There's live target goats everywhere. You understand why there's handles in the back of the front seats. You lose fingernails holding on to anything so that you don't knock yourself out. High pitch squealing doesn't do anything. You pray to all the saints you know that you will never snap at passengers on a plane. Amen.

We get off our unsafe Disney ride and feel shaky & not so calm. We thank our maker that we are alive. We have a history. Tornadoes, the flood, and riding a taxi in Antigua.

Our room overlooks the ocean. Bliss. David is in the bathroom on the verge of crying. The bathroom is huge, and he can take a shower stretching his arms full lenght in every direction he wants. It's the little things.

We immediately put our bathing suits on. I'm having a hard time understanding the hotel brochures. David says "let go". I'm still in that weird zone since the flood. We leave our room and dip our big toe in the ocean. The tightness, the craziness, the confusion is starting to flow away into the sea. This is good. Really good.