This morning I woke up thinking myself one of the coolest old ladies on the planet! Hah!! That’s never happened before.
The Dominican Jazz Fest is next week. I leave in four days, so raise the roof; Caribbean jazz here I come, and in the VIP seats no less.
The coastline road from the airport to Santo Domingo whispers wanton words seducing travelers to stop, have a drink or a meal on the shore. So far in my world travels, this is one of my favorite drives from an airport. It relaxes me and I only come from the next island.
Learning to see what my husband saw in me for forty-five years is finally wiping out the way my parents saw me, which was as a kid needing to be beat at least three times a week.
My memories with my husband are largely us going and doing. He loved my adventurous spirit; his soul soared with me. My soul still soars with enjoyment of enthralling music.
Time to pack the suitcase; what shall I wear? Tee shirts, the proof of previous fests and hence coolness must be washed.
And then, I must go to the gym so my back and knees don’t stiffen or refuse to budge.
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