Hatemonger - It is a word describing a person committing a vile act, but when does it really apply? Seems to me that most often today, someone who uses the word to label another is the one guilty of the act.
The economics of Honduras - minimum wage is $300 a month. That's what the workers at the fast food and the cleaners here probably make. To them, I am surely a very rich Gringo. The labor law here makes you give them a raise after the first 3 months, I think, and so if you lay them off for a few days just before the 3 month limit, you can re-hire them at the same low rate and the clock starts over again.
Honduran rats are very cautious and very fast.
When did MBA programs start to teach more about how to pinch another penny's profit without regard and less about how to run a business? Isn't part of running a business about growing a good workforce who is relatively content and well trained?
Why do the pockets of my new bathing suits always come out in a balloon of air when I am swimming? They never did this with other bathing suits, or at least, rarely. What if there was something important in them? Wouldn't the balloon lift it out and gravity drop it to the ocean floor?
The reef around Roatan is very beautiful - thriving with many kinds of colorful corals and many different varieties. It is why Roatan is considered one of the top diving locations in the world. But there are few large fish living there. Have the local people over-fished the area?
Did anyone else notice that when the TSA was formed and started to hire people to work in airport security lines, McDonald's and Burger King started to put up "Now Hiring" signs, because they lost so many folks to the new government bureacracy?
Velcro was an incredible invention. I am amazed at how clever people are in finding ways to use it - from the screens on some of the ports of the boat, to my sandles and bathing suit pockets. I understand there is even a storm sail that is to be used in the highest winds, that uses Velcro to attach itself OVER the reefed jib.
Jury rig is a very old nautical term, first showing up in writing in the 1600's and meaning a repair to a mast or spar. If a ship lost a mast in a storm, they usually did not carry any wood large enough to replace it. So they would take a spare spar or 2, and lash it to the stump of the old mast, and make it work until they could get to a port for a new one. The term has been bastardized by common usage to jerry rig and other variations. Reminds me of a friend who has a friend who calls a lag bolt, leg bolt. He just doesn't read well enough, and repeats what he thought he heard.
If you check in here once in a while, do you ever take the time to look at the Flag Counter at the bottom of the page, just before the pictures? (BTW, just noticed that this is my 101st post.) I am sure there are a lot of people in the world who browse Blogspot and just start flipping pages to see what the next blog is about, but I am still amazed at the numbers of people and the places they live who have stopped and glanced for a moment at this blog. I started it for my family and a few friends whom I thought would enjoy following in my new life. It was going to be easier for me to post pictures and write about where I am or what I am doing, than it would be writing and sending separate emails with appropriate pics. Unfortunately, at the beginning, my family did not understand what it was nor could they find it, so for the first 2 months or so, no one looked at it. When I arrived in Bermuda, I think, I explained how to get here and how to view it, and then, after my family sent the address around to some friends, it seemed to build a following, and grow from there, although I have no idea how many folks check in regularly. Still, the numbers amaze me. I am just a plain and ordinary person, who perhaps just now, is living an extraordinary life. But I am not a gifted writer. I don't take good pictures. And, as I wrote the other day, I am even becoming a bit jaded at the beauty that surrounds me, and need reminding every now and then because I begin to take it for granted. Flag Counter is a free counter, for any one interested. You just cut and paste the HTML into your edit HTML, or something like that. Had ya fooled for a minute that I actually knew what I was talking about! Ha!
I am growing hairs in my nose and ears now. The ones in my nose, which have always been growing there, are now longer, and often grey. And the ones on my ears are just growing and long. They all tickle. When I try to pull out one in my nose, it looks like I am digging for gold.
FaceBook - Still not sure I like it. I have certainly enjoyed meeting up with old friends there - people who I have met in this new life as well as some from years ago, as well as keeping up with family. One thing I don't like is seeing things referenced that I don't want to see. For instance: Cousin Cletus has a friend who "Likes Rush Limbaugh", and if I don't like RL, which is not true, btw, but like my cousin, then why do I have to read that Cletus likes what his friend likes? Does that make sense? There are people there whom I consider friends, or at least, friendly. But what does politics have to do about being friends? Or does it? I have read some things there that truly make me feel sorry for some of these ignorant, hating people.
Having a cold in Paradise is the same as a cold in Pittsburgh. It stinks!
When people cannot make a good argument to defend their opinion, they resort to name calling. Isn't that what we did when we were kids?
Latin Americans seem to have a different idea or attitude towards a person's "space". Twice now, I have had other guests here at the resort barge in front of me while waiting for my turn in line at the restaurant. The other night, it happened twice within seconds - someone stepping in front of me, plate stretched out and eyes glued to the food, almost touching me to get there first,. The first time I noticed it, there was a large group from Costa Rica here. As a group, they are not appreciated by the locals - considered arrogant, argumentative, rude, cheap, and complainers. Many members of that group barged into line, stepped in front of me, and acted as if the food was the last they would see for days.
The United State Marine Corps gave my dad an incredible memorial funeral service at Arlington National Cemetery. All the formal trappings that Dad earned with his service were given, with incredible solemnity, dignity, and reverence. It was not until after the service that I realized that, unlike the service at church several months earlier, this one was not for the benefit of his widow, nor his 2 sons, family and friends. The USMC performed this service for their fallen brother. We were only privileged witnesses. I think they would have performed the same ceremony with the same dignity and solemnity, even if there had been no civilians there to see it.
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