2012, 08-20 AA in the Samoa’s! I haven't written much about my AA experience lately because there hasn't been any to speak of outside of me sitting down in the mornings to sip my tea and read a few pages of the Big Book or an old Grapevine and then read the days bit in my favorite God book before trying (usually not too successfully) to have a few minutes of meditation. All of French Polynesia turned out to be no mans land as far as meetings went and the closest I got to any recovery contact was a roaring drunk I met on the beach at a big cruisers party. The Cook Islands were no more productive though they may have meetings but our only stopped was at Suwarrow which is uninhabited. Then finally in American Samoa I had a contact email address for a member listed in my Loners & Internationalists Meeting Directory. I wrote and heard back right away! My first successful LIM contact from the directory I have been carrying around with me for the last ten thousand miles. The little gray book has contact info for members, pages of overseas meeting times and places and port contacts in numerous countries. The Mexico contacts listed were for places we never visited and the French Polynesian contacts were all out of date. “Willing to go to any length Kat....remember?” Surprise surprise, I sent off an email and it didn't bounce! In less than 24 hours I heard back from Toy. Unfortunately he was off island but he instantly forwarded my email on to another local contact and within another day I heard back from Iosepha. Yea, AA in Samoa!!!! What a luxury: four meetings in 15days plus a girls lunch with Leslie (the only woman AA on the island) and a dinner with the whole crew on Friday night at the Koko Bean -all five of us. Big bonus the meetings were relatively easy to get to, just a forty minute $1 bus ride followed by a $4 taxi ride to Hope House a hospital/retirement home where the group rents a room and a free ride back to the harbor with Iosepha. The group here is small but consistent with three regular members, one who bounces back and forth to the states and one who just moved off Island. Big bonus for me though is just a few weeks ago they held the first annual Samoa Round Up and camp out in Western Samoa so the members here have current email info and new friendships with the handful of AA's there which is where we head to next. They have one meeting a week and I already have contact telephone numbers and email addresses and directions to the meeting which is only a ten minute walk from the main harbor. I do wish my timing had been a bit better it would have been great to be part of the 1st annual round up. Oh well this is he next best thing. AA is obviously still small here in the islands but Social Services is activly sending new recruits though no one at the meetings is very sure exactly what leads to a referral and what the requirements actually are. They just welcome the folks who show up and try to carry a simple message explaining what AA is and what it isn't. One of the days I attended there were three men there two for their first time. Two sat quietly listening and joined in settin gup and putting away the banners and such the other...well...I felt pretty sorry for him. He sat next to me and is body language made it plain he would have rather been anywhere in the world but there with us. He shifted and wriggled, stared out the window with his body faced away from everyone else in the room. Every bit of him was trembling and tense and I swear if I had reached out and touched him he would have exploded out of the chair. He did stand and hold hands with us at the end of the meeting but the moment we dropped hands he fired out of the building as if his life depended on it. Surprisingly he returned two meetings later though he walked in just ten minutes before we closed the meeting and again disappeared without a trace before anyone could even speak to him. Who knows, when a seed is planted. It does seem like a long shot trying to get sober here. With only two meetings a week and such a small membership you would have to really want to stay sober to stick around long enough for the miracle to happen. I was struck once again at how lucky I was to find AA when I did and where I did. But then again this thing we do has been working all over the world now for many years -what is it nearly 80?- and all it takes is a desire to stop and two people in the same room. For that matter other LIM's have been doing it for a long time now too all alone and far away from “mainstream” AA. Thank you for being here….......................................I am so grateful. Kat

Still Sober......12 Stepping in SB

10/28/2011


Well it’s been a long dry season. My access to AA has been pretty limited but I grabbed what I could. I hit meetings in Mazatlan in April, tried my best at Loreto Fest with the offer of meetings but the best I could manage was to simply suit up and show up –alone, found great fellowship in San Carlos in May and again in July and soaked up some of the soul of the program in July at a Spanish language meetings in Santa Rosalia. Pretty slim pickings compared to the smorgasbord of choices I was used to back home. Never the less I am still sober and still relatively sane.

Obviously my “program” looks a little different these days than it used to. Email has taken on a whole new focus and weight and I have been unswerving in my commitment to my morning’s daily dose of recovery and Higher Power time. Sponsorship looks different too as I left my old sponsor thinking I would find a new connection then simply realized that we could also reconfigure our work together. We are still sort of figuring it out but in fits and starts we have been working together again with me as a “Loner” and I recognize the value and worth of having someone I can “work” with not just write back and forth with.

The single most frequent active form my recovery takes as a member of AA has turned out to be along the lines of Public Information and “working with the family.” Cocktail hour is a nation pastime in this world I now live in and of course I don’t drink nor does Bill. People eventually notice that. Not as a problem for me or as any interruption of the ritual but eventually people begin to ask questions and surprisingly often it has led to discussions about grown kids, best friends, brothers or sisters and spouses. In turn I tell a bit of my own history and then try and offer them as clear a picture as I can of what I know about the disease of alcoholism and of what AA is and what it’s not. I have no idea if anything I say has or will ever touch anyone else’s alcoholism but it seems to be my role right now.

I pray about and try and stay open to any opportunity to do 12th Step work. I know that the disease is alive and well no matter where I go so I try and leave an open door for God to work in and I got a wonderful answer on our short trip to California. First off I have to admit that we were all the way to Santa Barbara before it dawned on me that 1.) We would have a rental car and 2.) There are meetings all over California. I have become so accustomed to NOT having meetings available that it completely slipped my mind and I actually spent time regretting not taking the opportunity to anticipate a meeting or two. Oh well…..

So, there I was walking into a nearby community center headed to a meeting, arriving a good half hour early so hopefully I could help make the coffee or set up choirs or something. The online listing showed both a women’s meeting and a regular open meeting. I was headed for the women’s meeting but there was no one moving in 4A. I wandered off looking for the ladies room and saw two guys walking down the corridor and I knew they were AA’s - we somehow always standout in a crowd to me. Sure enough Mike and Bart welcomed me and we all got busy setting out chairs and making bad coffee. After a few minutes a woman walked in the door, hesitant, shaky, somehow smiling and gritting her teeth at the same time. She sat down next to me and the magic began to happen.

As it turned out it was her first ever meeting and I was the only woman in a very small group. I am certain that they would have taken care of her without me but she literally grabbed on to me like she was about to drown. She really needed the reassurance of a woman and there I was. We talked for a few minutes, the meeting began and without ceremony or discussion it was a powerful first step meeting, then we talked some more and exchanged emails. I thought she was going to cry when I told her that she would probably never see me again but then she asked me what she was supposed to do now. I told her she never had to drink again and grabbed Mike to help me get her a Big Book. Before I left I wrote down a little list of things she needed to try and do and she grabbed it and held on like I just gave her the keys to the world.

1. Go to meetings. Lots and lots of meetings and don’t drink in between. Arrive
early, at least 10 minutes and stay at least ten minutes afterwards.
2. Go to lots of different meetings until you find the ones that make you feel
like you’ve finally come home.
3. Get a Sponsor: don't wait to find the perfect one just get one.
4. Grab on to the women in the meetings.
5. When some woman ask if she wants to go have coffee, take a walk or grab
dinner do it.
6. When they announce the business meeting attend it even if at first it
makes no sense at all.
7. When someone offers you a job do it: make the coffee, set up chairs or be a
greeter.

If you do these things you will find yourself in the middle of AA and in the middle of some really wonderful people. They will be there for you to help you to find out for yourself that there is another way to live and it is immeasurably easier than the life you are living right now.

I left that meeting feeling better than I had in a long time. I sure hope she felt the same way.

Kat

7/27 My tool box.

Yesterday Bill spent most of the morning hauling diesel to our boat: 80 gallons in all via 5 gallon jerry jugs and a dock cart. The frustrating thing about this is there is a perfectly good fuel dock here in Santa Rosalia that we (and a couple dozen other cruisers) had been counting on for filling up our tanks before we head deep into the northern Sea. The closest alternative fueling is 80nm away in San Carlos (clear across the Sea on the mainland) or south again approximately 100nm away in Puerto Escondido which is where we were way back in April.

Just another example of how Mexico works. The fuel dock here does a big chunk of its yearly business just twice a year: now as the cruisers are heading north and again in November when the fleet heads south again. Essentially every boat passing through Santa Rosalia needs to fill their tanks in order to have fuel for the remaining thirteen or fourteen weeks of the season. But right now the Mexican Navy has three boats tied up at the fuel dock and they won’t let anyone come close. They also wouldn’t let anyone fill jerry jugs there forcing us to haul our diesel through town from the Pemex station (though as is typical they are now –at least for today-allowing boats to dinghy their cans to and from the fuel dock.) We tried to wait them out but the last we checked they said “call us back in two or three weeks.”

Yet even with the hassle of hauling, spilling and filling stinky slippery diesel for hours there was a very cool upside. When Bill went back for yet another trip with the dock cart he was approached by a guy who was soliciting donations for a group called CRREAD. As he talked with the fellow it turned out that CRREAD is a Mexican treatment program. They have thirty centers in eight states all over Mexico with one right here in Santa Rosalia. He went on to say they have meetings every night at 7pm and we were cordially invited.

When he told me I was excited but then a little apprehensive about trying to attend a non-English speaking meeting. Would it be a waste of time if I couldn’t understand anything? How would we possibly communicate? What would they think about having a couple of gringos invade their meeting? Would we even be able to find the meeting place?

Ever willing off we went. As we walked through town in the high humidity and 95 degree heat we were dripping wet and sticky but we had no difficulty finding the center in fact we arrived quite early. I saw a sign with a version of the AA symbol hanging from the corner of a building and knew we were in the right place. The sun was still high in the sky and shinning right into the centers open windows and balcony doors so we decided to find a couple of bottles of water before we went up to say hello.

Bottled water in hand we climbed the stairs to the CRREAD center but as we stepped inside there wasn’t anyone around. Looking around us we could see an electric range, a refrigerator and then a small desk and a wooden podium with the same AA-like symbol with the words Esperanza, Fe, and Servicio lining the three legs of the triangle: Faith, Hope and Service. We could see one closed door and one open door leading into a small office but no one around.

A moment later a young man came in heading for the fridge. He stopped and looked, said something in Spanish and then spun on his heels and went back through the closed door. In a moment a man of about 30 came back in the door smiling with an out stretched hand. He was the same man Bill had met while hauling fuel and he was obviously pleased to have visitors. He was followed by another English speaker who turned out to be the head of the center. While they welcomed us the handful of residents sort of surged out around us or peeked their heads out the door watching and wondering.

It was just passed 6:30 when he explained that the meeting would start at 7:00 but then there was a flurry of chairs and people and a couple of fans drug out from elsewhere in the center and suddenly the meeting was about to start. The insisted we take the only two decent chairs in the place, directed the fans our way and then rang a bell and started the meeting.

Just like home they started with the Serenity prayer and another prayer both of which were written in Spanish and hung on the wall behind the podium. I thought my Spanish was half passable but I was lost in the dust as I tried to follow along. The man who had welcomed us acted as secretary and asked for volunteers to tell their story. Over the course of the meeting all but one of the residents took their turn behind the podium and then the secretary would pause and translate what he could for us.

We could tell they pretty desperately wanted us to take a turn and I volunteered right away. I started in my pittance of Spanish: hola, me llamo Katalina y soy alcoholico. Hablo en espanol solo muy poco. “hi, my name is Katalina and I am an alcoholic. I speak just a little Spanish, sorry. Then I choked up and had to wait out the tears that were threatening to spill. I was simply happy to be there surrounded by other alcoholics and suddenly feeling very grateful for the life I have today. I spoke for only a few minutes and then my words were translated. Amazingly for only the second time ever Bill also agreed to stand up and speak.

When Bill and I were first married and I was struggling to get sober again he often supported me by attending open meetings. He would often use his lunch hour to show up at one of my regular meeting places. Then out of the blue one day many months into this he introduced himself as an alcoholic. He would always decline a chance to read or share and I never asked and he never explained. When we left Seattle on our voyage he began attending meetings with me wherever we manage to find them. Now truthfully I am not sure if he attends more as support for me or because he truly identifies an alcoholic or because he knows that finding meetings in a new cities and countries always poses unique challenges. I simply never question his support but instead choose to accept his journey as his own and let him find his own beliefs. Yet sitting there in a meeting listening to Bill share from behind the podium was a pretty cool thing to witness.

The stories we heard from the residents there describe what it is like trying to get and stay sober in Mexico and the differences between there and the States are pretty stark. On the whole American is a vastly richer country. We also have access to medical care that the people in most other countries can only imagine. Even our most destitute live many step above the truly poor here in Mexico. These men have no support from government sources and most have little from family either. The treatment facilities here are few and the need is huge. Their program lasts months not weeks and many stay well over a year. The center offers a safe place to stay, the structure of a recovery program along with recovery therapy, education, occupational therapy and a basic level of simple support that most of us would see as pretty rough living. They all work for what they get either outside the facility or on a couple of ranches where they pick crops as a way of paying their way. The CRREAD ranch near Mulage` that feeds people to this recovery center houses nearly 200 men and 28 women.

Many shared about their time on the streets in Tijuana and the loss of their families and any ability to work. Today they are happy just to be getting a shower. Every day they leave the center and go out to help raise the funds needed to keep the center open. The man that Bill met spends his days in service walking around handing out flyers with information about the center. He tries to solicit donations at the same time that he offers information for helping family members or friends who may be struggling with our disease. The other residents either work at local businesses or they spend their days offering to wipe the Baja dust of people’s cars in exchange for a peso or two. If they don't raise the funds they don’t eat simple as that.

Having someone there to translate helped but I really don’t think it was terribly necessary. In the end there was no problem in communication. Just being in a room filled with other people struggling with alcoholism was enough to bring us together in a way that only a roomful of drunks can fathom.

I left feeling very grateful and once again I was struck by the sheer luxury of meetings we have back in Seattle. Literally hundreds every day and held at just about every hour of the day in neighborhoods all over the city. Here in Baja the meetings are few and far between. I was unable to find any in Santa Rosalia until we stumbled on the center. The larger the city of course the more the “Double` A” presence but every day I get a clearer picture of the luxury that I took for granted.

A year ago while in Canada I found an AA meeting in a tiny village called Alert Bay by literally stepping out in front of a van that had a sign for a treatment center on its side. So I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised to find a meeting via a treatment center now. One more tool for the bag: check listings for local treatment facilities! The not so subtle nudge reminded me that if I keep my eyes and my heart open to recovery I will continue to find exactly what I need all along my way.

Yours, in Esperanza, Fe, and Servicio. Kat

AA alive and well in San Carlos

We made it back to San Carlos and I was warmly welcomed back to the Mount Tetekawi group. San Carlos is a mostly gringo suburb of Guaymas Mexico. Just like the boating fleet most of the towns gringos leave Mexico when the hot weather comes. When that happens the groups I have come to know here in Mx really struggle while waiting for the return of the majority of their group members. San Carlos is experiencing something different this year.

Usually by this time in the summer the English speaking groups in Mx are way down in members. The few who do stay suffer a bit more than usual from the personalities over principles problem. But they tuff it out until fall when the rest of their group begins returning and the chairs area all filled again. This year San Carlos is experiencing a whole new trend. Not only is the group still thriving there were 16 people in a room that usually holds 3 or 4 this time of year.

The group is filled with good long term sobriety, a new comer or two occasionally and folks actively working a program. It showed itself clearly the first time I attended and each time I have returned (four times now.) The members have gone out of their way for me and Bill. Last trip I got a guided tour complete with commentary and this time Bill and I have shared restaurant meals, shared fresh caught Mahi Mahi in the home of new friends, been taken grocery shopping and picked up and dropped off from meetings. If the weather cooperates we will stay an extra day and share some hospitality and fellowship on a sail/fishing trip. Wish us luck the yellow fin tuna are in and the Dorado are biting.

Kat

5/27 But for the grace of God

A few days ago we were near the small town of Mulege` which lies along the inside of Baja about half way up the inside of the Sea of Cortez. It was a great spot, quiet, remote, beautiful, home to plenty of whale sharks and the place I celebrated my 50th Birthday. Swimming with the whale sharks was a once in a lifetime experience. A great dinner with friends along with an evening of dancing with Bill was a great way to mark the birthday milestone but what really sticks out in my mind is the tragedy of alcoholism that I saw through our new friend Jerry.

Jerry is a widowed ex-pilot in his early 70’s now living full time in Mulege` Mexico. An ex-pat he moved here more than ten years ago and has a life that many can only dream about. He has money and time to enjoy living a life of ease. He owns a beautiful custom stone home on a cliff overlooking a small come in Bahia Concepcion and evenm has “enough” to own a second home (with air conditioning) in town which he shifts to in the dog days of the Baha summer. He is close with his two grown kids and they fly down to visit him frequently. He has nothing more pressing to do than spend his days fishing, playing tennis, and visiting with the many friends who now fill his Mexican life. He can afford to do just about whatever he wants to do in life but he is a broken man.

We met Jerry at the local cantina. He has a pretty open social calendar especially this time of year so he offered to drive us into town to pick up provision allowing us to shop till we drop and get everything back to the boat without schlepping it in packs on a bus. He acted as tour guide and historian and the trip was great. Then on our way back to our beach we came upon a stretch of road that climbs steeply winding through the dry hills. There were two cars on the side of the road and from a distance it looked like there had been an accident. In a quiet voice he simply stated that this must be a hard stretch of road. Then we passed on by and he continued his tour.

Now I try not to judge or make assumptions but …..I had already noticed Jerry’s proclivity for drink. He never actually looked drunk when I was around him but he was always holding a beverage of choice. Always. His every movement was made to allow him to indulge. All his friends were drinking buddies and all his daily plans were collected around the experience of socializing –with a drink in his hand. He is amazingly social yet he held a aura of melancholy and despair. At one point at the birthday bash he stated simply that he “probably drinks too much” now. Me I watch people so I sat quietly over several days as he drink essentially non stop easily switching from beer to gin to tequila to baileys. Everyone loves Jerry and he is one of the worlds truly friendly people.

Eventually the story came out. Last July Jerry and his wife ate dinner at the same spot we met him and where he still pals around with many of his neighbors. It was late in the season so they had already moved from their stunning hillside home to their place with AC in town. They had one more drink for the road. Then they drove in two cars from the cantina to their stone home because she wanted to stop and pick some things up from the house and take them into town. They stayed just a short time packing up a few things and having a night cap. She left ahead of him for the 20minute trip to town while Jerry locked up. Fifteen minutes later Jerry’s car climbed a steep hill and rounded the corner. Her car was off the road, down a steep cliff. There were already people racing to help but by the time Jerry reached her she was simply gone. No goodbye, no I love you no more anything. Their whole life and all their dreams disappeared in the blink of an eye.

It has only been 10 months and the grief is still clear on his face and on hers too. His daughter was there on one of her many trips south. The whole thing was only spoken of in the briefest of terms and with little story or explanation. The sadness sticks to everything around them. He never said he is devastated. She is steadfastly intent on helping her dad though this rough time. No one says he was drunk or she was drunk. In fact I could have read this completely wrong. Maybe she didn’t really drink much or even anything. Maybe he drinks a lot now but wasn’t intoxicated then. Maybe no one silently blames anyone. But then again I have my own intimate relationship with guilt and remorse. I used to wear shame around like a favorite night shirt, then flipping a switch I would trade it in regularly for a smile and a day of accomplishments desperately trying to look on the outside like I thought I was supposed to look. To act like everything is OK. No, better than OK. Like I have a tiger by the tail and I don’t need any help at all thank you very much.

He saw that Bill and I don’t drink. At all. I could tell it was a completely foreign concept to show up for a casual Sunday brunch and NOT partake of “Jerry’s famous” Bloody Marys. It was also a mystery that we could spend two or three hours at a cantina eating a meal or celebrating an occasion without adding booze to the mix. When we entered his beautiful home I looked across the room at the stunning views but what I rally saw was the full bar set up on the kitchen counter, the elaborate ironwork hutch down the steps in the sunken living room filled with dozens of his “special” bottles and the beautiful wine rack near his piano filled with vintage bottles. He has a life that many would die for. I think she probably did. He might too. kat

All dressed up and no place to go!

Loreto Fest is a get together for boaters in the Sea of Cortez. It began 15 years ago when a group of boaters wanted to do something to raise funds to help a local orphanage. It started out simply: a couple of kegs, pull out the grill and cook up some hamburgers and hotdogs and give all the proceeds to charity. Over the years it has grown and morphed into the biggest gathering of cruisers in all of Baja. This year’s festival attracted more than a 100 boats and spanned three days. They held seminars on various cruisers friendly topics like navigation, fishing lure making and diving Baja. Besides the tons of hamburgers and hot dogs there was a spaghetti dinner, a pancake breakfast and a silent auction. All the proceeds still go to locals in need.

But more than anything it has turned into the place for boaters in Baja to make friends and meet up with some old ones. The days are filled with elimination rounds of Bocce ball and horseshoes, cribbage tournaments, Mexican Train marathons (a domino game) and Michigan Rummy matches. The bar opens at 1000am. The mornings got started with Margaritas and Bloody Mary’s which flowed buy the tubs full and the kegs were never ending. Bill and I were excited to come and I was excited to be back in an area with AA.

When we arrived I already had info for the local meetings but was stunned to find out that the marina was actually extremely isolated. Go figure, Loreto Fest is actually held in Puerto Escondido. A taxi ride into Loreto’s meeting would cost me $80! The only other meetings were in Nopolo which is a $40 taxi trip but are only held mid week. Well *&^%$%^&!

The festival wasn’t set to start for two more days and they were still posting information so, right off the bat I asked the organizers if I could post a notice announcing friends of Bill W meetings. They were happy to oblige me and I scurried off to make a flier to post on the announcement board. With so much already scheduled I decided a morning meeting might attract the most folks so the flier said 8am Fri, Sat and Sun mooring buoy #82. For information call CH 22 S/v Island Bound.

Every morning I got up at 7:00 am, took a shower, got my tea and flitted around cleaning up the boat for company. Three days running no one came. I was actually surprised that I wasn’t terribly bothered by that. Disappointed yes but OK just the same. I had made sure I had my Big Book out, had pages marked for How it Works, the Steps and Traditions and The Promises. When no one came I grabbed my iPod and listened to a speaker tape. I would have loved the company but oh well I did what I could and left the rest up to fate. Would I do it again? Yes. In fact I am kicking myself for not having stepped out in some of the other places we have traveled. But it was simple and easy and the next time it will be even easier.

On a sad note my custom AA flag was badly damaged in a sudden blow. It rolled in with much higher winds than forecasted and virtually brought the last day of the festival to a halt. By the time Bill and I had muscled our way through the flying surf and across ¾ mile of open anchorage in 35-40 knot winds I was soaked to the skin with sea water and my poor flag was in tatters. Guess it’s time to find some dark blue material and binding tape and make myself a couple more. I love flying my flag. So far it has not brought me any new BFF but three people have come to the boat and introduced themselves when they saw it and I have faith that there are larger things in store.

Fellowship from afar, Kat

4/4

We are now in Mazatlan having come here from La Paz to meet my mom and my sister who flew down for a visit. When we pulled in to the slip at Singular Marina I noticed the name on the boat next door: "Came To Believe." It made me smile just looking at it. Several years ago now my step son Josh was a memeber of the University of Washington's sailing school/Yacht Club. He met and became very good friends with a fellow names Rich who owned "Came to Believe." We knew he had sailed her to Mexico and we knew he had encountered some health problems that forced him to give up the cruising life and sell the boat.

Here she still sits. Though she looks a little worse for the wear she is essentially still sea worthy and ready for more adventure. We have been here for more than a week now and have not seen anyone step aboard. We were told that a local Mexican family bought her and I hope they decide to give her a good wash and take her out sometime soon. Most boats take on a new name with a new owner so I am pleased to have had a chance to see her and remember the importance of step 2.

For me the importance of step two really became apparent when I began to understand the insanity I was producing around me on a daily basis. It was all self inflicted. My denial was overwhelming and so the insanity just fed on itself again and again and again. Depression, roiling mania followed by suicidal thoughts and more depression. Is it any wonder we self medicate desperatly trying to erase the jumble of feelings inside? Today I don't live that way. In fact I never have to live that way again. Came to Believe is such a simple concept but so truly powerful. How does it go? I can't, He can, I think I'll let Him.?

Right this moment I am feeling a bit down. A combination of sickness and sadness. I am trying to recover from the flu -102.4 temp, achy, stomach upset yuck and my mom and sis are sitting at the airport waiting on their flight out. The flu made me miss some of the precious time I had available. The anticipation of the trip is way better than the realization that they are gone and not knowing when we will touch bases again. Sometimes I wonder if the visits are worth the sadness but then again I do believe that the good byes are getting easier. Maybe its because we have been out for over 11 months now? Or that the continued contact via skype, email, letters etc has proven easier than we thought?

So, tonight as long as my temperature stays down we will be hitting a meeting here in Mazatlan tonight and I already have the womens meeting this week on my calandar. I hope to catch up on some correspondence and get enough rest and fluids to combat this flu then we will be off again, headed for Lareto Fest in Lareto Mx. It will be a four day passage so I hope the flu runs its course soooon.