Laid Low

Two Green Iguanas In Small Palm  

I am reduced to watching the iguanas climb up and down the four palms outside our balcony. I cannot make out any pattern to their movements. Sometimes it's large (not huge like we had on our docks) black ones, sometimes medium greens ones, sometimes it is two at once, maybe going in the same direction, or not. Once I saw one eating the flowers off an inflorescence, but those are all eaten now. I think they may go to sleep in the tops of the palms, however since I can't see the top of the tallest palm, I can't confirm that. And if they did, surely I'd see them come down in the morning and up in the evening, but they move up and down at random times. I'm going crazy stuck in this apartment.

Going to Bed?  

Ten days after my crash. Grant stayed home from work last week, ferrying Clara to swimming lessons; doing the shopping and cleaning; cooking labor-intensive, time-consuming, delicious meals; and being at my beck and call. I hobbled around with my walker, slept, watched the Tour de France, and whined. I also decided I rather suffer the consequences of adventures than not do them.

Until I absolutely cannot manage the physical requirements, I want to be out and seeing new things. I want to be in the camper, on the trip, at the new-to-me place. This will take plentiful negotiations between Grant and me, because I'm always sure things will work out. He is more cautious. Probably we prod each other to a better place than if we were on our own. Somehow this seems like progress even though I cannot walk. I can't wait to get back on my bike, only a little more carefully than before. Back to watching for iguanas.