Mr. Wizard and the Wall Street Journal

Mr. Wizard had a chat with a writer for the Wall Street Journal. You can read the article here.

My Friend Francis is gone

I heard yesterday from Kendra at Island Med Student blog that Francis died on Tuesday. I know many of you have followed Mr. Rasta's plight and have contributed to his care. I am so grateful to each of you who helped to ease the difficult life of this special man.

Francis touched my heart in a way few people have done. He was so reluctant to ask for help, so at peace with himself and accepting of the terrible challenges he faced. I learned so much from him in the short time I knew him. He was able to rise above his circumstances in a way I am not. I never knew him to whine and wallow (as I am prone to do).

He was a gift in my life. A living example of grace with a touch of Caribbean/Rastafari sweetness.

The last time I spoke with him, he told me he would always hold me in his heart. I spoke the same words to him. And I believe that we do still hold a special place in our hearts for one another. I will never forget him.

His funeral is today at the Catholic Church in St. Joseph if you are on the island and wish to attend.

My life with humidity

Mold spore
I thought St. Louis, our home town, was the most humid place on earth, but I had never before lived near rain forest. Up North, however, no matter how nasty the humidity is outside, the inside is always nicely climate controlled. (Of course one reason I wanted to move here was to get out of my climate controlled box.)

Here is far different. Here I clean mold off my furniture. Did your mother teach you how to manage mold on your furniture? Mine did not. My leather shoes begin to grow fuzz. And today I took out a couple of pillows to find the cases covered in mildew. Ugh :(

We have some friends who bag up their most precious things with silica gel. Mr. Wizard is thinking about having lights burn in the closets of Lilliput to lower humidity. (But only after we are off the Domlec .47 USD per kWh electric grid.) Many hours are spent around dinner tables swapping ideas about managing humidity, mold and mildew. I have had people tell me of opening their DVD or VCR players to find them full of mold. The tropics are tough on electronics.

Who knows, maybe the next line of antibiotic is lurking within the the mold of someone's VCR on Dominica. Where, Oh, where might Jonas Salk be?

Of course we all know what mold can do to people's health, and it is so prevalent here it is worrisome. Mr. Wizard is highly mold sensitive and has to take antihistamines before entering some buildings which trigger his allergies.

Keeping house here is far more work intensive than up North. Having open doors and windows are wonderful in keeping the psyche connected to nature, but it also means the house has all manner of things blow through. (I recently found a tiny frog on my kitchen counter who had to be repatriated to the great outdoors.) And because of the humidity everything needs to be hauled into the sun frequently for airing. Having household help is not a luxury here. It is necessary if you do not want everything you own to be destroyed by the tropics, and if you need to perform any other function in the world other than house drudge.

So, today I am bleaching pillows, trying to catch up the masses of laundry, and muttering.

livingdominica: who is afraid to take out her posh red leather jacket an see what the tropics have done to it.

The Dominica Ebook

January has been a record month for book sales at Living Dominica. It is gratifying when lots of people find their way to our web page and choose to purchase our book. I suppose when the weather up north is cold and miserable, the book is even more appealing. Thank you to all you book buyers!

It is interesting to me the number of emails we get from people looking at a move to Dominica based on my eBook. We have even heard from people prepared to invest in property sight unseen! I always discourage this and tell them to come down, and get a feel for the island. I think that renting here for a while, allowing Dominica to seep into your pores before buying, is an excellent idea. You have to be comfortable with the differences to make a go of it here.

For instance, one time I was encouraging our daughter to join us in living on Dominica. "But what do I do when it is 3AM and I am dying for a cheeseburger?" she replied. Suggesting that she consider making her own was not appealing. Clearly, she is not ready to live here even though she finds the island dazzling.

If you are not ready to leave behind easy access to cheeseburgers, you are not ready for Dominica.

Dominica is a land of such promise. The natural beauty is amazing, and the people are warm and welcoming. It is an easy place with which to fall in love. But it also will serve up its share of frustrations and difficulty. I recently heard the following from a person who owns a home here:

"I've experienced some of the most beautiful as well as most horrifying times on this unique island which seems to be constantly calling for drama. I still love Dominica and consider her my home, although I am presently living on another Caribbean island. Whenever I visit, which is at least 3 - 4 times a year, and watch from the plane as Dominica's tall green body appears mystically through the clouds, I know I am coming home.

Dominica can give you everything, but also take everything."

I guess that says it all, doesn't it?

livingdominica: you probably know that Dominica's indigenous name is Waitikubuli, meaning Tall is Her Body. Isn't that lovely...

"Hurt not the earth, neither the sea, nor the trees." Revelations 7:3

Kendra does PMH

Be sure to visit Kendra at Island Med Student as she writes about Princess Margaret Hospital
and her clinical rotations.

Dear Readers

I may in the near future start another book and incorporate some of the writing from this blog into that work. I have therefore removed some of my blog posts from the public domain.

Here is my current working title: "How I Moved to the West Indies and Lived to Tell the Tale"

We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. --Joseph Campbell

We visit a village health center

Mr. Wizard and I visited a village health center with our friend Mr. Rasta. He goes there every day, including weekends, to have his dressing changed, since his tumor is now too massive for him to manage on his own. (Life Goes On is facilitating transportation for his dressing changes, and continue to do laundry for him each week.) I got to meet some of his nurses, see the clinic, and watch them change his dressing.

I was impressed.

The clinic was spacious with a large waiting room with educational materials on the walls and a TV. The exam room was well equipped. Everything was neat and very clean. And the nurses did an excellent job changing the dressing. (I have to admit they did a better job than I do, as they are not as messy I am)

I had the very pleasant task if delivering dressings to the clinic. Some kind readers of this blog, and nurses at the hospital where I worked, sent large boxes of dressing supplies for my friend. It was such a pleasure to get to give the nurses these supplies and Mr. R was very pleased also.

I am, of course, very concerned about the continuing growth of Mr. R's tumor and the noticeable weight loss we are seeing. His appetite is falling off and he is becoming weaker.

Mr. R. is Rastafari and has a deep love of all things of nature. We printed off the Hubble pictures of deep space for him and he marveled at discovering yet another source of nature's innate beauty, beyond the stars. These images spoke to his gentle soul the way they do to me, I think.

livingdominica: Thank you to those of you who went to the expense and trouble of sending supplies down to Mr. Rasta.

Tennessee Williams and Me

"Don't look forward to the day you stop suffering, because when it comes you'll know you're dead. " --Tennessee Williams

I fell in love with the work of Tennessee Williams as a young adolescent, and this love affair never died. I love the passionate, seedy Southern life he portrays. Perhaps because my roots are in the seedy South. I love the way he crafts words and paints pictures, making magic with vowels and consonants. For years as a young woman I talked of going to New Orleans, or Key West (wherever he was living at the time) and filling his mailbox with roses. Isn't that a pretty idea?

Unfortunately, this was all the hot air and posturing of youth. I never made it to that mailbox. I never bought those roses.

Tennessee Williams was from my home town of St. Louis, Missouri. He loathed St Louis. He never said a good word about it. Just watch The Glass Menagerie and you'll see why. It was where he ran from. So of course when he died, his brother brought him there to bury him. Yep, the lawyer brother decided to plant him in exactly the last place on earth he would want to be.

"The most dangerous word in any human tongue is the word for brother. It's inflammatory." --Tennessee Williams

This travesty did allow me to finally see my hero face to face. He was dead of course. But still, maybe he was around somewhere nearby watching.

One advantage of looking like I do is that I appear sweet and harmless. I went to the funeral home before the public events started, and charmed the funeral guy with my best harmless wiles. He let me sit alone with Tennessee, marveling at the overpainted face and mahogany monstrosity they placed him in.

No, I did not buy him roses. He was dead, after all. Roses are meant for the living. And definitely not for brothers who bury you in the last place you want to be. Williams' body was interred in the Calvary Cemetery, St. Louis, Missouri, despite his stated desire to be buried at sea at approximately the same place as the poet Hart Crane, whom he considered one of his most significant influences.

livingdominica: if anyone on the island would like to do a production of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, I think I would be a perfect Big Mama.

Thoughts on Money

Someone sent me a link to a site called Get Rich Slowly. It is an interesting site about frugality and voluntary simplicity. I believe these to be valuable goals as long as my frugality and simplicity is not supported by borrowing from others. "Never a borrower or a lender be" is the wise Yankee motto. Perhaps it is the fiercely independent American in me, but I am not comfortable borrowing from others. And lending can also be very uncomfortable when I have to ask for items to be returned. This has been a cultural adjustment for me, since sometimes it seems here that everyone wants something from me. So, I support the goal of frugality and simplicity as long as it is not paid for by others. Only saints should have their simple lifestyles supported by others.
Here is a quote by Ann Rynd:

"Poverty is not a mortgage on the labor of others, misfortune is not a mortgage on achievement, failure is not a mortgage on success, suffering is not a claim check, and its relief is not the goal of existence. Man is not a sacrificial animal on anyone's altar nor for anyone's cause. Life is not one huge hospital."

- Ayn Rand, "The Voice of Reason"

Of course, compassion has to figure into the equation somewhere. I get a weekly thought from the Dalai Lama, and this week his words were also about money:

"In the frenzy of modern life we lose sight of the real value of humanity. People become the sum total of what they produce. Human beings act like machines whose function is to make money. This is absolutely wrong. The purpose of making money is the happiness of humankind, not the other way around. Humans are not for money, money is for humans. We need enough to live, so money is necessary, but we also need to realize that if there is too much attachment to wealth, it does not help at all. As the saints of India and Tibet tell us, the wealthier one becomes, the more suffering one endures.

...Eating, working, and making money are meaningless in themselves. However, even a small act of compassion grants meaning and purpose to our lives."

--from How to Practice: The Way to a Meaningful Life by the Dalai Lama, translated and edited by Jeffrey Hopkins

You can subscribe to the Dalai Lama's email list here.

I am not sure how to reconcile Ann Rynd with the Dalai Lama, yet both speak truth to me. Perhaps balance is the key.

Morning Meditation

Mr. Wizard and I have a very inconsistent meditation practice. But we do continue to try to incorporate meditation and prayer into our daily lives. One of the things we had hoped to find on Dominica was the time and space to expand these practices of spiritual unfolding. Unfortunately, our ability to be "too busy" and our procrastination followed us to the island like all the other character flaws we developed into full flower while living up North.

But this morning we did sit in meditation on the back veranda. I had a lot of difficult getting quiet, but I was able be present in the moment as we sat. Each breath was moist as soft rain fell making a dull pitapat on the leaves in the garden next to me. Birds sang their morning celebration song. The pug snored softly in his meditation.When I opened my eyes, a mist was rising from the verdant green hills before me and the living presence of this island was immanent. Of course humanity is immanent also, and a car screeched down the road, its driver probably late for work.

These are the moments which make me glad I am exactly where I am. The idea of listening to the furnace or A/C hum instead of hearing the birds and rainfall seems unfathomable. The image of hiding from the elements in a box, rather than being connected daily, seems an impossibility. All of the easy comforts of the Big World cannot make up for the prison life of house and job we once knew.

livingdominica: and glad she is here, today anyway.

Spiritual Tourism

"My religion consists of a humble admiration of the illimitable superior spirit who reveals himself in the slight details we are able to perceive with our frail and feeble mind." -- Albert Einstein

If you have looked at my blogger profile, you will see I list my profession as Spiritual Tourist. I have always found worthwhile bits and pieces from a myriad of spiritual traditions. Even things I might find a bit silly have a place in my sacred toolbox. At one time I had a positively glorious collection of trashy religious art. I loved it. I think I still have a flocked picture of Our Lady of Guadeloupe somewhere. I admire the kind of devotion which puts a statue of Mary in an upright bathtub in Saint Louis, or in more exotic locations, builds roadside shrines. And I love prayer flags!

I also believe spiritual things, and life in general, must be approached with humor. Nothing is sacreligious to me. If God made pugs, He/She must have a sense of humor. So, I have to laugh at Mr. Deity.

In Saint Louis there is a custom that when selling your house, you bury a statue of Saint Joseph upside down in the front yard. I can' t remember if he is supposed to face the house or the curb. All of the Catholic supply stores sell small statues for this purpose, with instructions on how to do it properly. You think I am kidding? Our house sold in less than a week at higher than the listing price. I dunno why these things work, but they seem to. And I am not Catholic. At least not recently.

There is an order of nuns in Saint Louis, commonly known as the Pink Sisters, who have remarkable success with the power of their prayer. They are a contemplative order who wear hot pink habits, and live smack in the middle of a very tough gang neighborhood where I once did hospice nursing. I used to go sit in their chapel during my lunch break. Maybe that is why I never had any harm come to me.

Anyway, a number of years ago, Pope John Paul II was coming to Saint Louis in January. That month is notorious for awful weather and people were worried, so they set the Pink Sisters to work on it. We had the best weather ever for that visit. (Hmmm. Maybe those Pink Sisters need to be praying for us as we build a house in Dominica.)

So of course I love Saint Expedite. Saint Expedite is the patron of those who hope for rapid solutions to problems, who wish to avoid or put an end to delays. And I certainly need his help right now.

There is a humorous tale about the arrival of Saint Expedite in New Orleans: The story goes that in outfitting the Chapel of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the priests sent off for a statue of the Virgin. Many months later, they received TWO crates instead of one. They opened the first and it contained the statue of Mary, which they had commissioned. They turned to the unexpected second crate, which said EXPEDITE on the outside. There they found the statue of a Roman centurion, and mistook the shipping instructions -- EXPEDITE, meaning, "expedite this shipment" -- to be the name of a saint.

Expedite may be my favorite saint. I used to have a stack of his prayer cards, but I passed them out to friends who needed something expedited. I would love someone to send me some more.

livingdominica: I also honor the solar wheel, have participated in sweat lodges, and meditated with the Buddhists. I am totally nondiscriminatory when it comes to the spiritual life, and therefore probably offend everyone. Sorry.

One of my favorite presents was from a reader

blueright wrote:

Merry Christmas Jen & Mr.Whiz,

One of the gifts I bought for my Love is a mustard seed pendant, like the one you wrote about on Tuesday, September 25, 2007. I have printed your post and wrapped it with the pendant. Thanks for the meaningful gift idea.

God Bless

Thank you, blueright, for sharing this with my family and I.

Why my husband is called Mr. Wizard

Don Herbert, the original Mr. Wizard










Our daughter and I have called the man of the house Mr. Wizard for years. In fact, the name may even predate our 29 year old child, I can't be certain since my synapses do not fire like they once did. Old Americans, like myself, may remember that the original Mr. Wizard had a children's TV show in the 50's teaching science concepts.

But I do remember that the name for my husband started at a campfire on a starry night.



The Wiz has always been interested in physics, theories about the formation of the cosmos, and other gee-whiz stuff. My background at that time was more arts and literature, so I found this utterly fascinating. I recall sitting drinking wine at a campfire staring up at a sky thick with stars. "Tell me about the Universe, Mr. Wizard" I asked. And so he seduced me with big bang theory (apropos, eh?), the idea of an ever expanding galaxy, and of our minute spot in the magnificence of space and time. I was dazzled. (But I always was easy when it came to guys with big brains.)

The name stuck, and thirty some years later he is still Mr. Wizard. But only on the days when I like him. When I am pissed off, I don't call him much that is worth repeating. You probably guessed that, since 30 years is a very long time. But I do still like him most days.

As I recall this, I am reminded of something Cynthia Jones of Diana's Grove wrote:

"I will sing the song that the Universe sang on the day that the Earth was newly born and She held it in Her starry arms."

livingdominica: I wonder what that girl at the campfire would think if she could see me today, living on this wayside tropical island.

It Ain't Easy Here

Gentle Readers,
In case you missed this reoccurring theme, let me once again mention that life is tough on Dominica. Tough enough to make people flee, leaving behind everything they own.

Let me explain.

I got a call this morning shortly after 6 AM (!) from an expat woman I have never met, who was having a panic attack. She sold her house in the US, bought land in Dominica, ordered a car from Japan, and brought down a shipping container of her belongings. She has lived here just 2 months, and is ready to walk away from everything in order to return to the states. She hates it here. It is not at all like an island vacation.

I have read that 40% of people expatriating to any country will return home within the first 2 years. I believe this number is probably larger on Dominica since most everything here is a trial fraught with difficulties, delays, and shortages. (Good friends of ours have had their construction project halted due to there being no cement on the island!)

This panicy woman phoning at the crack of dawn is not the first person I have met walking away from their Dominican dream in despair. So let me state again for those of you dazzled by the dream of island living:

• Do not invest more than you can walk away from.
• Rent first to make sure Dominica is for you.
• Try an experimental mini-move if you can, without dismantling your life completely.
  
• Proceed with caution in all matters, using an attorney for all transactions.
• Build a support systems of other expats, so you have people with similar experiences with whom to problem solve. Your Dominican friends just will not understand the Culture Shock you will inevitably experience.
• Do not move here anticipating that you will easily generate income to support yourself.
  
• Please call me only during regular Living Dominica office hours of 1:00 PM to 1:15 PM. (Someone else called us recently at 11:30 PM because they were experiencing their first Swarm)
  

Most likely I would have run back to the states already if Mr. Wizard did not have the tenacity (read stubbornness) born of his Germanic heritage. I would probably be up there shoveling snow and wishing I were down island again. Nowhere is perfect, but the grass does always appear greener where ever I am not located. So I perfectly understand the impulse to run away from island life.

livingdominica: I recently had business cards printed which gives all my various contact information and clearly states in bold:

You have to be a little crazy.

Thoughts on the Volcanoes

Dominica is home to one of the highest concentrations of volcanoes on the planet. Some experts say 8, some list 9, but all agree on one point: we are overdue for an eruption here. And of course the area of densest population around Roseau (where we live) is where some of the worst volcanic risk exists. We have heard that the merchants of the island have bought up property in Portsmouth just in case it should become again the capitol city. Even for a Queen of Denial like myself, it is enough to give pause.

Mount Pele today.
In 1902 Mount Pele erupted just next door in Martinique, killing 30,000 denial prone people like myself in the "Paris of the West Indies", Saint Pierre. The mountain had been rumbling for quite a while, spewing ash, and the streets were awash with panicked snakes, centipedes, ants and the like. Still the people stayed at the foot of Pele, until May 8, 1902 when a pyroclastic cloud with temperatures to 1000 degrees C descended, covering the town and harbor.



Blessing of the dead in Saint Pierre.


The Wiz and I visited the Mount Pele museum last year and stood slack-jawed staring at the artifacts fused and warped by the intense heat. Looking at old pictures of the streetcars and the opera house in Saint Pierre it is a bit understandable how this sophisticated European community felt it could never happen to them.

Dominica is just 30 miles from Mount Pele, so the eruption had a great impact on this island also, including this observation by our most famous daughter, Jean Rhys:

At her home at the corner of Cork Street and Granby Street, now Independence Street, the 11-year-old Gwen Rees-Williams, later in life to be known as Jean Rhys, was taken to a window by her mother and was shown the glow to the south and the falling ash:

'My mother woke me and without saying anything led me to the window. There was a huge black cloud over Martinique. I couldn’t ever describe that cloud, so huge and black it was, but I have never forgotten it. There was no moon, no stars, but the edges of the cloud were flame-coloured and in the middle what looked to me like lightening flickered, never stopping. My mother said: ‘You will never see anything like this in your life again.’ from Mount Pele and Dominica

So, here we are looking at property at the foot of Morne Anglais. Hmmm.

livingdominica: I just may change my name to Cleopatra since I am the Queen of Denial...

We live at the end of the rainbow

I took this from our veranda this morning
Here is a link to some other gorgeous pictures of Dominica. Enjoy!

"Help Yo Brother"

Most of the taxis and minibuses here on Dominica have names at the top of the windshield. Some of the names are funny, like "Flash de Bobs", some are rather sweet like "Humble African". But I saw a new one today: "Help Yo Brother".

And that is exactly what we need to do right now.

Please, if you are on the island and are able to give blood, go to Princess Margaret and donate a pint for my friend Mr. Rasta. He has been having increased bleeding from his tumor and has already had two units, but he needs more. If you call Life Goes On (449-8593) they will give you his proper name so that you can tell the blood bank who you are donating to help. PMH accepts donations in the early am hours.

Mr. Rasta would be very grateful for your help, and I am sure he would like to meet you if you donate for him. We discussed today me asking you to come donate for him, and he was glad to have anyone know he is in the hospital who is willing to help.

I am sprung from sturdy peasant stock, so I gave my pint yesterday with no difficulty. Mr. Wizard, however, has some lurking aristocracy in his background and was flatly refused. He has a wee little thing with his heart that people fuss over. Humpf. Sounds like an excuse, doesn't it?

It is the tradition here for family to provide food and linens for hospitalized patients, as well as all of the little things a Big World hospital automatically provides. The Wiz and I are trying to fill the gap since our buddy doesn't have much help.

So I have been cooking vegetarian food of questionable quality, doing laundry for our friend, etc. Here, more than anywhere I have ever lived, the village really cares for a person. When those social supports are lost the effect is devastating. This is a much more interdependent world than where I lived in up North. Even my marginal vegetarian cuisine is appreciated.

I do hope some of you will give a very special gift this holiday, and go give blood for Mr. Rasta.

livingdominica: One Love. One People.
or "Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers..."
whatever truth speaks to you.

Our favorite place in San Juan

Andalusia Guest House, San Juan

Whenever we travel to San Juan we always try to stay with Esteban and Emeo at Andalusia Guest House. We also tell friends traveling to Dominica that this is the place to overnight, since most travelers cannot make the journey in one day. Located in Ocean Park just a block or two from the beach, this sweet little refuge is just the place to relax from travel, or shopping, or touring. They are currently expanding, and will eventually have 11 rooms, but it is best to reserve early. Several of our friends have found them full when trying to book, but we were lucky enough to stay with them the entire 6 nights.

Staying with Emeo and Esteban is really like being with friends. They work incredibly hard at helping guests make the most of their time in San Juan. I met a fellow guest, a Parisian who lives in Tortola, who loves this guest house as much as I do: "I never tell people about Andalusia. I try to keep it a secret for myself!" I, however, have to share the secret with my friends.

The guest house is just steps from the wonderful Kasalta Bakery and Deli. It is a dream come true with espresso, croissants, pastrami and Napoleon pastry. All of the things we cannot have when home on Dominica were throughly indulged, Si?

A bit further, but still walkable, is the local Puerto Rican restaurant called Bebo's. This is a great place to try a PR favorite dish called Mofongo (mashed green plantain) with a side of beans and rice. Oh yes. Most excellent food.

I am afraid I spent a lot of time while away wiping the crumbs from my mouth.

Another treat for us was that the TV in our room offered the History Channel. So, after shopping until our feet were bloody stubs, we would lie on the bed rubbing each other's feet, and watch a little history. I do miss having the History Channel and Sundance and Bravo. (We do not have these on Dominica, but we have 4 religious channels instead.) Esteban reads a lot of history and is a very interesting person to talk with.

So, there you have it. One of my best secrets is now yours to share the next time you travel through San Juan.

livingdominica: as always, your full service blog for travel tidbits and trivia.

The Mustard Seed

"I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." --Jesus

When I was 2 my Dad died in a car wreck, leaving my Mother lost as to how to cope with 3 kids. During the trials, (literal and figurative) which followed his death my Mother wore a necklace like the one pictured here. It contains a tiny mustard seed. She used to tell me it reminded her that she only needed to have a little bit of belief for things to work out. I still have that necklace and I have been wearing it recently, hoping it will provide the same reminder to me.

As an adult I discovered this Buddhist story about the mustard seed. Isn't it interesting that both teachers used a mustard seed in their parable?

A woman was grief stricken with the death of her beloved child. Distraught, she came to the Buddha begging him to restore life to her precious baby. The Buddha agreed to help her only if she could bring him a mustard seed from a home that had never suffered death and grief. The woman searched franticly, asking everyone, but was never able to find a home untouched by the sadness of loss. Slowly, she came to see that her loss was not special or unique. All souls suffer. All are touched by death and loss. Her grief was healed when she found compassion for others through her own grief.

That story kind of kills off the "poor Me", doesn't it? And why is it that the best and most powerful lessons in life are also the most painful? Probably to open our hearts to the pain of others. When I was a hospice nurse, I noticed the very best hospice nurses had cared for their own dying relatives.

livingdominica: I am a very lucky woman. May I never forget that.

"Deeply Strange, Impossibly Beautiful"

Astronomers Select Top Ten Most Amazing Pictures Taken by Hubble Space Telescope in Last 16 Years .

After correcting an initial problem with the lens, when the Hubble Space
Telescope was first launched in 1990, the floating astro-observatory began to relay back to Earth, incredible snapshots of the "final frontier" it was perusing.

Recently, astronauts voted on the top photographs taken by Hubble, in its 16-year journey so far. Remarking in the article from the Daily Mail, reporter Michael Hanlon says the photos "illustrate that our universe is not only deeply strange, but also almost impossibly beautiful."

Hubble telescope's top ten greatest space photographs:
(From #1 to #10)



The Sombrero Galaxy - 28 million light years from Earth - was voted best picture taken by the Hubble telescope. The dimensions of the galaxy, officially called M104, are as spectacular as its appearance. It has 800 billion suns and is 50,000 light years across.






The Ant Nebula, a cloud of dust and gas whose technical name is Mz3, resembles an ant when observed using ground-based telescopes. The nebula lies within our galaxy between 3,000 and 6,000 light years from Earth.






In third place is Nebula NGC 2392, called Eskimo because it looks like a face
surrounded by a furry hood. The hood is, in fact, a ring of comet -shaped
objects flying away from a dying star. Eskimo is 5,000 light years from Earth.





At four is the Cat's Eye Nebula





The Hourglass Nebula, 8,000 light years away, has a pinched-in-the-middle
look because the winds that shape it are weaker at the centre.






In sixth place is the Cone Nebula. The part pictured here is 2.5 light years in
length (the equivalent of 23 million return trips to the Moon).






The Perfect Storm, a small region in the Swan Nebula, 5,500 light years away,
described as 'a bubbly ocean of hydrogen and small amounts of oxygen, sulphur
and other elements'.






Starry Night, so named because it reminded astronomers of the Van Gogh painting. It is a halo of light around a star in the Milky Way.






The glowering eyes from 114 million light years away are the swirling cores of two merging galaxies called NGC 2207 and IC 2163 in the distant Canis Major constellation.

The Trifid Nebula. A 'stellar nursery', 9,000 light years from here, it is
where new stars are being born.

Living Past One Hundred on Dominica

Portrait of Ma Pampo by Powys Dewhurst


"It’s no secret.
You take fresh foods, clean water, pure air and lots of exercise. You add low stress, a loving family and strong belief in God. For Dominica’s centenarians, it all adds up to a longer and healthier Life." Or so says the Pan American Health Organization in their article about long lived Dominicans.

I am not sure what accounts for the longevity observed on Dominica, but this island is known for long years and good health into old age. Ma Pampo was 128 when she died!

Could it be because Dominica herself is alive? Beneath her fertile soil burns the largest concentration of volcanoes anywhere on earth. She is home to a lake which boils and hot spring mineral baths. Gases from a volcano bubbling at the ocean's edge creates the "Champagne", which attracts both tropical fish and snorkelers.

The living fertility of this island provides foods rich in nourishment, unlike tired factory farmed produce fertilized with three chemicals. Locals on Dominica eat food fresh from the garden, not picked green and shipped for days to consumers. Picking oranges or grapefruit in the garden warm from the sun, and squeezing fresh juice, I can taste the rich, living island in each mouthful.

Dominica's air is also amazing. A rainforested island, her winds are scrubbed clean by the Atlantic, then oxygenated by the dense foliage. I imagine being healed of the years of living in St. Louis during Ozone Warnings when, "People with respiratory problems should stay indoors".
I mean, don't we ALL have a respiratory problem if the air outdoors warrants warnings?

(I must admit Roseau can give me a headache, probably from concentrated pollution. But I avoid Roseau whenever possible.)

Do I expect to live as long as Ma Pampo? No, I don't. I do know I feel better here than anywhere else on earth. I feel truly alive here on this enchanting island.

Here is a directory of the Centenarians on Dominica.

livingdominica: I do so love that picture of Ma Pampo...

Mr. Rasta

I am heartsick today because I am seeing a dramatic increase in the size of Mr. Rasta's tumor in the last 10 days. I have been haunted by how much it grew from Thursday to Monday.

The good news is that a North American organization is planning to underwrite hospital care for him in Barbados. But another possibility appeared yesterday with a Parisian ENT visiting the island saying he might be able to provide the necessary intervention here. This would allow us to care for Mr. R here during his convalescence, rather than have him go through this on his own off island. I am hoping this works out. But either way, help is on the horizon.

Mr. R is gentle person who rarely asks for anything, but he does more than anything want and need his tumor removed. The enormity of this tumor is mind boggling. It reaches from his chin to the nape of his neck, and extends from his ear to his shoulder. The smell of it keeps him isolated in his little shack. And I see that it is bigger each time I change the dressing. (By the way, someone donated dressings, so yesterday we had proper supplies for the dressing change. Thank you!)

livingdominica: Yesterday Mr. R touched his heart and said, "Thank you for everything you do for me." He meant that for you, too.

Dominica's Stockfarm Prison

We learned recently that not only is there overcrowding up at the prison here on Dominica, but they also have no books. Now, I cannot imagine anything worse than being in prison without a distraction like reading. The days must be endless. The boredom must be killing. Not at all like the prisons in the US with Cable TV and classes to take.

Anyway, as you might remember, Mr. Wizard and I moved to Dominica with 29 boxes of books. So, we have decided to donate about half of our library to Dominica's prison. We have been going through the books and quibbling. While the Wiz likes to hang on to positively everything, I am the opposite, so the scene goes something like this:

Wiz: "Aw, I can't let that go, that is the Illustrated Bob Dylan, and I've had it longer than I've had you!"

Me: "You are going to deprive some poor prisoner of the Illustrated Bob Dylan? You need it more than some guy in Stockfarm?"

Of course, the prisoners in Dominica may not even know Bob Dylan, which leads to another thought. Our library reflects our tastes, so up to Stockfarm goes not only novels, but also books on Zen, Organic Farming, and Metaphysics. These will probably be of no interest to the prisoners, but oh well. Anything to read has got to be better than nothing. At least that is what we have been told.

One might ask why someone who paid to haul all those books to Dominica would be willing to part so easily with half of them, even if the cause is good. Well, here is the secret. I have an aging brain. I read a book, and very quickly all the details are lost. It may seems vaguely familiar when I pick it up again, but I can still enjoy it completely and not have the surprise ending spoiled. I figure at this stage in my life, I really only need 5-10 books in order to be endlessly entertained in perpetuity.

We also found some games to donate, and I suspect they may be a bigger hit than the books. Dominicans play Dominoes a lot. Drive through any village and you will probably see men hunched over a table feverishly slamming dem bones. Domino play can be very dramatic and for some reason women do not seem to play. I have always speculated that this is because the women are working while the men play.

I found a set of Dominoes buried in a chest and I was so glad. Maybe it will help some of the non readers to pass the time.

I also think comic books might be a good thing. So if you have a pile you don't want, send them on down and we'll get them to Stockfarm.

livingdominica: and now I won't have to dust so many books...

Pay It Forward

I always read Zooms' blog called Free Spirit, and I really admire her art. So when I found out I could possibly have one of her painting simply by paying it forward, I jumped at the chance. (I guess being greedy is really not in the spirit of this, but I have to admit it was Zooms' art which motivated me to join.)

I do not claim to be an artist, but I do like to dabble with paint and fabric, and I make baskets also. So, I will create something for you. Here is the offer:

"I will send a handmade gift to the first 3 people who leave a comment on my blog requesting to join this PIF exchange. I don’t know what that gift will be yet and you may not receive it tomorrow or next week, but you will receive it within 365 days, that is my promise! The only thing you have to do in return is pay it forward by making the same promise on your blog. "

How inspiring. Please visit Free Spirit to see Zooms' work and to read more about other artists who are participating in this excellent idea.