Winding Down the Carnival

Our stuff arrived on Roatan in a 40-foot container.

It's leaving in a 20-foot.

But this time it's without the help of Ron and Rob, the "professional relocation experts" in Connecticut who had a truck full of supplies and burly men. So our sincere and special thanks goes to U-Line for creating a "basic moving kit" that they shipped to us novices, stranded on an island with no moving companies, tape guns, bubble wrap -- or even boxes.

As of this moment, we are up to 115 boxed, inventoried, and labeled items of personal belongings. As we get them finished, we stack them in the foyer for Senor Gomez, our faithful gardener of three years, to carry down to the garage. I can just hear him muttering in Spanish, "This isn't in my job description...."

I've drawn the line at shipping back the contents of the liquor cabinet, which got shipped here from Hartford without anyone paying too much attention. A few weeks ago I started a personal crusade to systematically get rid of the tequila and rum, but frankly I've tired of it. Anything left will be left behind, along with the other 50% of the contents of two fully furnished houses that we sold with the property.

And to anyone who thought I was joking about shrink-wrapping our furniture, think again. Another gracias goes to Plaza Mar for stocking an absurdly large restaurant roll of plastic wrap. They won't stock decent toilet paper or diapers, but they get kudos for carrying 2,000 feet of extra-wide saran right when I needed it.

I've spent so many hours wrestling with the wrap, one blade-torn sheet at a time, that I'm even dreaming about it. Last night, I woke up panicked that I had shrunk-wrapped Delaney.

Fortunately, our final day coincides with the end-of-the-year party at Discovery Bay, Delaney and Hayden's school for the past two years. We're so glad they are finishing the term along with their friends. The next day, however, we'll be on a jet plane bound for the next phase of this crazy life. We've made this eventuality comprehendable to the kids by promising there will be a "bookstore" (i.e., Barnes and Noble) wherever we are going. "I'm going to get a Princess book," yells Delaney. "I'm going to get a Thomas book," yells Hayden even louder.

So clearly, leaving the home they've since known since they started crawling isn't going to bother these two island babies, as long as our first stop in the New World lets them browse and buy books to their hearts' content.

I'd like to say the same is true for their Mother, but I'm afraid the end is bittersweet. It's come so fast. Large properties like ours just aren't selling on the island, so any offer had to be taken very seriously.

In truth, we are happy to say we've done it.

And, happy that we're done with it.

Mike says he won't be needing a beach vacation for a long time.



  1. What an amazing ride, and an amazing blog. You've touched our hearts and given us many hilarious hours of reading entertainment. I'm sad I never made it down there, but joyously looking forward to your family's return! Judy xoxo

  2. What an ending ..... but welcome to a new beginning. We'll be happy to have you home. Alex will love playing the island babies. I am so sure she'll be asking about those flip flops that won't even fit on her big toe now :) See you soon!
    Love, K


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