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Wednesday, August 17, 2011


Some years ago I was fortunate enough to live in the Cayman Islands.
Yes, THAT place. It is a little bit of paradise in the Caribbean, a teeny island where if you drive just a couple of seconds the views are spectacular. Views of a sea that looks like somebody turned the lights on in the swimming pool in the middle of the night. 
An incredible shade of green that makes you want to cry when you see it.
A classic and gorgeous house in Cayman, minus bats.
I've been writing about bats in New England, about how I know some friends whose homes are infested with the blasted critters flying about. 
What I neglected to mention in my last post was how in Cayman, the bats don't necessarily bug you inside the house, but more accurately, when you are hanging about the swimming pool in the early evening.
My dear friend D. (you know who you are) and I were killing time one warmish summer evening when a different sort of bat from what you see in New England was making its presence known in the area of the swimming pool where we all hung out in the evenings.
D had jumped into the water and I was just about to join her when...yowsa, they came out of the rafters, bam bam bam splat.
Within seconds, one bat had managed to hit her on the head, just two seconds before I was going into the pool. All of our neighbors froze right where they were -- nobody really wanted to swim in a lovely pool where bats were zooming and zooming overhead.
Call us cruel, we just sat there and watched it happen until D. leaped from the pool and joined us on the perimeter of the pool to view more zooming and zooming.
There is nothing like a warm summer evening in the Caribbean region. Any of us who have lived there can testify to that, but there is a bunch of stuff the tourist brochures won't tell you, including the bats and, oh, yeah, the crunchy crabs on the roadways.  Maybe I'll write about that soon.
Amen, and pass the turtle stew.

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