Scrimp Scrampi

Leah's been school-working like, every minute.  She gets up, has class until the late afternoon, goes to a review session or two until the evening, and then studies all of the things she learned until she passes out. This is a pretty sharp contrast to most of my days here, which usually involve waking up, pointless internetting for a couple of hours, and maybe some drifting off to sleep while trying to read. Sometimes I do the crossword.  I have a pretty strict granola routine throughout the day, too: I open the fridge, grab a fistful of granola, sit down in front of the computer, throw it as close as I can get to in my open mouth. Then I get up - I usually wait a few seconds, but sometimes I'm still chewing when I rise -  and repeat the process several times, and I do this until I have oats stuck to my shirt and sometimes cheeks, my jaw hurts from the chewing, and I feel as ashamed and disgusting as a person should.  These are mostly jokes (it's funny 'cause it's true!); I do some other stuff that doesn't make me feel like I'm pizza the hut. Today I ran 7 miles, the scheduled weekly "long run" as part of my training for the Nevis Half Marathon on November 27th. I run along a new road called "the bypass" which, as its name implies, bypasses the busier streets of Basseterre and allows traffic to go around the city.  I had an interaction at around 6:30am, in my first mile, with a youngish Kittitian man who seemed like he was not an early riser, but a stay-out-late-r, whom I had to pass:

Me: "morning"

Him: some sort of a grunt/grumble, then: "Watch your bag"

Me: "my bat?"

Him: "your bag! there are teefs about"

Me: "my teeth? my fanny pack has teeth?"

Him: "TEEF! THERE ARE MANY TEEFS ABOUT"

Me: "ohh...thieves?...it's okay - I only have my mace in here."

So - was this guy warning me that he was a teef and would have robbed me if he felt more like it? It was creepy and strange and I didn't forget about it until around mile 6, when all I could think about was how much running sucks and maybe I don't want to do this stupid race anyway.  And thankfully, the roads are well-trafficked, with many cars passing (Ross University security vehicles passed me five times that I noticed), and plenty of other exercisers and day-seizers.

Besides the running and volunteering, I keep busy by doing the annoying stuff like laundry and cleaning and prospective landlord calling (more on that later! I'll let Leah tell you about it). One of the tasks that is all mine that I am very grateful for is the provision procuring - I've always loved grocery shopping (being a grocer's daughter, perhaps), and I delight in the challenge of being as frugal as is possible here. There was a 50% off sale on shrimp at the IGA this week, bringing the price down to just a little bit more than we would pay in the states, so with an "I'm not going to ask why" enthusiasm, I grabbed a bag and dreamt of a Caribbean shrimp scampi, with local beer in place of wine, cilantro for parsley, and lime for lemon:

you can't waste the sauce in the pan. it's a sin.

this particularly excited, joyful face is reserved only for lizards and delicious food