and the bartender said, 'Get the fuck outta here...'

or something like that. Someone, well, ok the one reader I have here, just mentioned I had not posted since May and I was startled. Where have the past 5ive months gone? It is true, I could die here, and no one would know for months, maybe longer. It's the loneliness and no one loves me game I play when feeling really sorry for myself. But I do have a few people who might question my whereabouts, eventually. But that's my fault for living here in the DR, and living up to my genetic predisposition for not communicating well. I do try, really. I thought I met a person of extreme interest in April and fell off the earth, putting all my communication skills forward, and thus no more blogging about the DR, and my wonderful life here. All good things must come to an end, so I am back here, reconnected with my wonderful life in the DR. I take great pride in inserting myself here only as it relates to the DR, to the culture and environment I have chosen to exist in, and not have this be the diatribe of my life, or lack of it. So enough said about smartly not using the L word and sparing myself the last few months of time invested elsewhere.... Today is a special sad day and a good one to try some CPR here. Five years ago today my husband of twenty years died suddenly. And all my thanks go to him, for many things, but especially for getting me here, and pushing me to be strong and independent and happy here. So much that I stayed on, despite all the fingers pointing elsewhere. I remain in a place he knows. As an aside it was never the plan to stay here for more than a hurricane season. Today, I am clocking 7even and a half years now, approaching permanent residency, and captain-less. I remain loyal to where I live, continue to delve into the culture, the people, the landscape , and still find it excites me. I sit here and listen to the distant waves, birds, the occasional cow, a chicken, a moto going by and know these sounds to be comforting and far from the madding crowd. Time to take out the empties and fill the glass for happy hour. I am back and have a lot to say, don't go away. Here's to Rock, and the Dominican Republic and the few that still see light in me.