The funeral was exactly the way my grandmother wanted.
She pre-paid and planned it all before she died.
Always the forward-thinking woman, no one would be able to leave any details out.
The rose garden was to be her final resting place.
She’d say, “Where else would I want to be? These roses have helped me create beautiful paintings that will live on in the homes of many long after I’m gone.”
Her garden was magical. She could grow colorful varieties.
I’m sure she’s looking down at us and saying, “Pick up a paintbrush and make magic happen.”
When the ship docked, we disembarked and signaled the cab that would be taking us to the pyramids.
It was a two-hour ride to Chichen Itza, the Temple of the Kukulcan, the archeological site.
Our friends had advised us to skip the costly ships tour and opt for a cab instead. We would be there with the same people we had been sailing with but for less money. Herbert was frugal about spending money, he thought it was a good idea.
The driver, who spoke little English, took us down unexpected bumpy unpaved roads. We barely spoke more than a few sentences in Spanish.
He said he had driven to Chichen Itza many times. We had our doubts. It was 2 1/2 hours since we departed the pier. Oh my, would the headlines read:
“Lost tourists, eaten by wild animals at dusk.”
Eventually, our driver seemed less confident about where he was going. He thought he had made a wrong turn. I guess that’s why the road was unpaved.
Frustrated, he found a road that led to his home. It was an old wooden shack in dire need of repair, and you might say dilapidated.
Although fearful, we exited the car and met his mother, sister, and brother-in-law. They welcomed us with huge smiles. Their children played on dirt floors while a baby slept in a hammock. They insisted we sit and eat something.
It was a pleasant visit. We learned a lot about their Mayan customs and cultural traditions.
We never made it to the pyramids. But, we arrived back at our ship with more knowledge about the Mayan people than we would have on a pricier tour.
Sometimes, a mishap can turn into a beautiful experience.
*****A similar photo by Ted Strutz was posted on Friday Fictioneers back in 2017. I wrote this poem for that image. I didn’t get many views or comments. I thought I’d edit it a bit and add it to this photograph by Dale Rogerson. Sorry about the two extra words.
Traveling through the jungle had been brutal. The heat had overcome many.
Walking along, we see many homes that the opposing tribes had destroyed. Remnants of brick walls were the only signs.
The tour guide told us we would learn many things about the Watusi culture, including their healthy lifestyle.
I was excited about learning all of these new things.
Soon, the Watusi shaman was telling us about their exercises and dances. I was in awe when they began to dance.
The exercise works wonders on circulation. Watusi tribe members originated it. It also slims you down without medication.
I have been doing the exercises and workout moves since I arrived home from my vacation. I’m feeling much better already. I recommend you start right away.
This video shows what you should do daily to help with leg and knee pain and stiffness.
Once a day is sufficient for assured success! Enjoy …
It was a cloudy overcast day. A cool breeze blew as Bobby looked down at Jimmy.
“Hi, Jimmy,” he said in a low voice.
“Where didthese huge boulders and rocks come from?”
Silence surrounded the space between them.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy”.
We were two young college kids. It was Spring Break. We all thought it would be fun to drive down to the beach. It was wild when the girls arrived. What a surprise!
**********Spring Break is in full swing here in Florida. The beaches are packed shoulder to shoulder with teens celebrating. The drinking has gotten so bad in South Miami that the bars have a 6:00 pm last call on drinks and a midnight curfew has been issued by the county commissioners.
Inside the Mind of Isadora 