De Rain She Come

Wilma has reared her ugly head in Belize. We're getting storm surge and rain. If you look at the satelite images, the little point coming off Mexico on the southeast side, we are about 10 miles below that. From the beach to our first street on the east side of the island it is flodded. We have about 3 feet of elevation, so a little bit of a wave goes a long way. I sandbagged the street entrance to the store, we're still cleaning and arranging things, and all I need now is a flood. Fortunately we're at one of the high points of the island. In the picture on the left you can see the reef, about 1/2 mile away, with wave action about 30 feet high behind it. Its spectacular. We usually see just a thin white line.

The picture on the right is the police yard, the waves roll up our nearly flat beach and get trapped in yards

Today was one of those doomed days, no matter what I did I was stepping in warm yellow dog poo, or falling off my bike as I rode the motocross course we used to call a beach. It makes for some really interesting beachcombing though. All the brown stuff on the road in the picture to the left is seaweed that has washed over the road.

The photo on the right is our entrance to the beach which has wave action rolling through it. I'm standing at my back door, and the water is coming right up to the steps. Normally the high tide is about 30 feet away.

The photos on the left is a water-side bar (Popeyes) and peir that's been broken up by the wave action.

I'm tired of Watching the Weather Channel. For kicks, I watch Spanish TV just to see if I can understand what they were saying and to learn new words. The Belizean Spanish that I have, sort of learned, is with a different accent and I noh understand she and she noh understand we da Mexico. God forbid, if I should have to speak to a Cuban doctor, in spanish, I would probably bleed to death first. Its like the time I went to the movies in Chetumal Mexico and thought I was going to see the new Russell Crowe movie about the boxer, but instead somehow saw The Coach with Samuel Jackson, but it took me about 10 minutes into the movie to realize I was in the wrong theatre (big DUUUUHHHH there). Actually I was in the right theatre, because when I checked my ticket I had actually BOUGHT the wrong ticket. It seems too much like work to learn Spanish, and you know how much I hate work. Bigness is getting tired of being my translator. I thought having a Spanish boyfriend would help me learn more, and faster. My brain gets tired always having to process and process and really really listen to the words to comprehend.