The Rhythm Between Things

My Reddit post about the street artist in San Nicholas, Aruba, has reached 4,500 views. One person said they’re traveling there next month and plan to stop by; another asked for her address. I’m genuinely touched by the response. It feels like I’m getting to pay forward the love she showed me—that quiet trust, that generosity.

One vacation habit made its way home with me: slow mornings. No news, no social media, no work for at least two hours. Just coffee, vinyl records, and writing. It’s a rhythm I didn’t know I needed. Funny how my vacation snorkeling routine has become a kind of metaphor too—closing my eyes at bedtime, I feel that gentle rocking again. But sometimes it tips toward nausea, and I have to open my eyes, ground myself, remember where I am. Then try again.

During this slow morning, a plan emerged. Our front yard, where the grass was being overtaken by two-foot-high weeds, needed tending. So later, everyone chipped in. Dave’s parents pulled weeds, Evelyn directed and provided empty yard waste baskets, my nephew brought the mower, and now the front yard looks like it belongs in a Southern Living magazine. Well, except for the massive glossy black snake I mistook for the hose. Thick as my wrist, long as a nightmare, it took thirty seconds for the tail to reach where the head had started.

I’m also now in the market for a thick, cotton, tasseled hammock. After the hours I spent swinging in the one at our Airbnb, I know: that’s the gold standard. Right now, I’m in a nylon one—it holds, it works—but the difference is like a golf cart vs. a vintage convertible.

We also might be in the market for a car. The options with our Acura are currently between poor and poorer. What started as a routine tab renewal turned into needing an inspection, thanks to it being from out of state. We knew it had a rebuilt title—we’d had it inspected when we bought it from the previous owner. But they missed a few things. So when the missing airbags and faulty resistors turned into a $7,500 fix just to make it legal (on a $9,000 car), we were suddenly back at square one.

Now we’re weighing our options:

1. Drive it without tabs and gamble on a $150 ticket (and possibly invalid insurance)
2. Sell it for parts
3. Park it in the driveway as lawn furniture and use an older car that Dave’s parents are offering
4. Take out a massive loan and buy a brand-new Tesla and YOLO our financial lives into the ground

Choices…Choices.

Looks like everyone’s getting out of the pool, and I need to climb out of this hammock. A crab and crawfish boil is happening across the street, and running on four hours of sleep, my biggest curiosity is—do I wear shoes?

Love,
Jaclynn

P.S. Barefoot it is.