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Health & Fitness

Trust a Couple of Hippies

A Force to be Reckoned with.

This is all you are worried about? Taxes, speed bumps, school levies, a new jail, widening Valley Creek Road, popular vote, whether we need another chain restaurant, elections…

Hold on now, we got us some bigger problems.

My Coconut hut for our many hoity-toity friends (that have convinced us with a wink and a slap on the back, that it is just a matter of days before they come down for a visit to Puerto Rico)… IS IN JEOPARDY. 

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Here we go…

The Problem: Erosion. Mr. Erosion is getting his job done. Nothing is spared, he is taking Gilligan’s Hut DOWN!

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The Ocean Waves are ceaselessly pounding and wearing away my masterpiece coconut palm-hut by the coastline.

Two retirees here—nicest folks in the world, are my hippie friends. Lucky us. When I heard “Aloha!” in Puerto Rico, and “Hey Meeee-yan, I’ve never had any qualms about rockin’ the boat,” this should have been a heads-up. But, I trust all.

I just listen to the Jack Kerouac wannabees and the Subterranean beat and began to build baby. Let me inform you all if you do not know much about building island thatched cottages… these coconut branches are big lugs to carry around. My new found friends helped me guarantee a spot. Since they had been here for 5 summers, they knew just loads.

“Like, hey sister, it won’t get eroded right there where your inner vibe is centered. This is the daddio of all spots!” 

In fact, they reassured me, “the Sea will dump you tons of new sand soon if, like Exxon, man, will stop killing off the Leather Back Sea Turtle…  It will be paradise.”

I just wanted a smidgen of advice, but my more than happy, hippie friends had this powerful effect on me—must have been the long hair. 

Now, they never did move from their beach chairs. Just threw out knowledgeable tidbits like how the ground stretches and strains; while the red wine always flows more than it ebbs.

Consequently, they helped me find a daddy of a spot.  I built & I built.

Now, their bottle of vino’s only ice bucket is the damp sand. I make no judgments. I just put this down to the study of red wine and how it helps the heart, aids digestion, etc.

We Irish actually admire this (although we prefer the gut-rot whiskey and the spuds in the stout).

I shoulda asked a Minnesotan, but folks along Grand Marais are generally not bothered by that troublesome Tide. Gitche-gumee may get wild when the gales of November come early but not like the 3,000 miles of Atlantic burstin’ down your door.

I just figure it is a force to be reckoned with.  The Ocean, Erosion, their spiritual friends {Wind and Rain}. 

For fear of the Ocean’s stormy temper, which raises Hurricanes & Tsunami, I figure this sea-saw affect is important to Earth. For more than 3 billion years, all life called the ocean home, before some crawled onto land and went to Woodstock.

All the same, it seems that I will now have to offer the spare bedroom… sugar!

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