SINS OF THE MOTHER

Here is a trailer for a movie I worked on last year.

PRETTY COOKIES

It finally came!! The Tortola Caribbean Bracelet that my daughter and her husband bought me for my birthday way back in April. I love it! Now whenever I look at it I will be reminded of that beautiful Caribbean Island that I long to go back to. Actually, what am I saying?! As if I need any reminder.

I spent the better part of the last two days at my friend's house, helping her with the huge task of making 160 very special cookies for her daughter's wedding. They will be placed in little clear plastic bags, tied with a white ribbon, and placed at each table setting at the reception.

It's quite the process to make one. First make the dough, roll it out, cut with the heart shaped cutter, and bake. Two kinds of royal icing need to be made; one fairly stiff and one quite runny. Once the cookies are cooled, a thin line is piped around the outside top of the cookie, creating an outline and left to dry. Then the runny icing is drizzled into the center and carefully spread out to the outline in a fairly thick layer and an even surface. Once that is completely dry (overnight) then the icing is brushed with a layer of edible pearl shine, then the first initials of the bride and groom are piped on top. Once they are dry, they go in the freezer on trays and then, once frozen, are placed in the clear bags and returned to the freezer to stay there until a few days before the wedding, when the white bow will be tied to the bag. They make really lovely favours. We made them for my daughter's Vancouver wedding reception last year and they were a big hit with the guests.

















We are toying with the idea of doing it as a business. But, to make it worthwhile, we'd have to charge close to $5 a cookie. I don't know if people would pay that much.

BROKEN PROMISES

I go to sleep with my head in turmoil.

I wake up with perfect clarity. I send off an email thanking them for the offer and then turn the big show down.

In a business that isn't known for loyalty or integrity, it is important to me that I have both.

I am expecting a barrage of 'comments' from my film friends on FaceBook who, last night, left numerous messages telling me to take the big show and that the little show would understand; that it was a fantastic opportunity and that I couldn't say no to it. As I sit, after pushing 'send' on the email - finger hovering for several long seconds before letting it drop down onto the key, I imagine their reactions when I write on my status what I have done and ponder what I will say in response, and I think back to how I was always very careful when I made a promise to my kids and how I bent over backwards to keep it, even when sometimes it became very difficult to do so. It was very important to me that they knew I meant it when I said something. Whether it was something they were looking forward to; like going to the beach for the afternoon; or not - like leaving the grocery cart in the isle and going home if they didn't stop screaming (and adding that, if that happened I wouldn't be happy so I would make sure they wouldn't be happy).

Then I realized I couldn't say 'just ask my kids how far I will go to keep a promise' because I broke two promises I made and thus broke their hearts.

One day after a particularly bad argument with their father, when our marriage was failing at a rapid rate, I went upstairs to find them together in one of the bedrooms, faces drawn with the stress of overhearing what had just transpired downstairs. I sat down on the bed and I told them that, as bad as things were, I was in this until death do us part, as I promised 22 years ago, and that I promise now that I would never leave their dad. The relief was evident on their faces because they knew by now, as 2 teens and one 21 year old, that I never said something if I didn't mean it.

Six months later, I left their dad.

About a year before I left, we bought my youngest daughter a Chocolate Lab puppy. Shonah had been dog crazy all of her life. Before she could speak or walk she would bounce in the stroller every time she spotted a dog, huge grin on her face. We had several dogs in the ensuing years and never kept but one till they died, for various reasons. One bit a small child so had to go. Two that we got together, brother and sister, would NOT stop barking no matter what we tried and it was driving us and the neighbours crazy so they had to go. A few were untrainable, I am sure that was our fault but I don't know what we were doing wrong. For one reason or another, every dog we had but one - which we got when she was about 8 and she died two years later of cancer - we got rid of prematurely. All but one we sold or gave away to other families. The one that bit a child had to be put down. But each separation broke my little girls heart.

When she was about 15 we talked a lot about getting another dog, one that she could breed and sell the puppies, and so would be entirely her dog and her responsibility. For months she poured over books about various breeds and finally settled on a Chocolate Lab. It was an all-around awesome breed; beautiful to look at, gentle, good with kids, playful, and they were very popular so it would be easy to sell the puppies, when the day came. My husband and I decided to buy a puppy for her while she was away working at a summer camp and have it completely trained by the time we picked her up, 6 weeks later. It would be a huge surprise and it would give me uninterrupted time to make sure the dog was properly house trained.

I bought a book on training dogs and followed it to the letter. In four weeks Hershey was completely house trained, could follow over a dozen commands by word or hand signals, and knew that, when we were relaxing, she had to lie still at our feet. It was like a miracle. I had never had a dog so well trained. And when we showed up at camp to pick up Shonah, she was not only surprised but overjoyed.

I had put one of Shonah's sweatshirts into the crate that Hershey slept in each night along with a blanket her mother had slept on (we took a blanket to the breeder when we first picked the puppy out of the litter and had them put it in where the mother and puppies slept for the 2 weeks before we could pick Hershey up) and so when Shonah took her into her arms, the dog went crazy. It was as if she was meeting her long-lost mother. I remember looking into the back seat on the long drive home from Kelowna, the puppy blissfully nestled into Shonah's neck and Shonah blissfully happy.

When I left their father, Shonah came with me before I even had a proper place to stay. We left Hershey with her dad until I found somewhere to live that would let us have a dog. It was a while before that happened and when we finally moved into our town house, we took Hershey with us.

We soon found out that, while I was at work all day and Shonah was at school, Hershey barked incessantly. I was homeschooling Shonah up until I left my marriage; I had been a stay-at-home mom all the kids lives, so the dog was never alone for long periods before this new situation and she just couldn't handle both of us gone for hours a day. After a few months of this, the stress of it with neighbours that weren't complaining to me but were to each other (and one who was a good friend finally told me) led me to decide that Hershey would have to go. It wasn't fair to her to be cooped up all day. She was a two year old lab; she had boundless energy. She loved being with people. Being cooped up alone in the townhouse all day had to feel like being in jail. Shonah saw the reasoning in this but was heartbroken at the thoughts of parting with her. The day it happened was a very dark day in her life, and thus in mine. She sobbed inconsolably for days. For months after, any time she saw a Chocolate Lab she burst into tears. I felt like the worst mother ever.

Thinking back on it today, I start to cry. I am devastated at the memory of breaking her heart so many times with each dog we failed to keep. But especially with Hershey because I promised her faithfully that this was the one dog we would never get rid of. And especially with leaving her dad when I promised them that day that I wouldn't. I broke all three of my children's hearts when I broke that promise.

I am so very, very sorry for it. I am as sorry as anyone can be. It will be my deepest regret to my dying day.

IT NEVER RAINS BUT IT POURS

It's been raining for a few days on Tortola. Here's one of the the results.

(Filmed by Tortola resident, Bradley Burke)



It's suddenly pouring in my life as well.

I got a text from Kim, my DP (Director of Photography) friend who just took two shows with Reunion Films. He's really excited about doing these movies and his text was to tell me that they still don't have a script supervisor. He gives me the name of the PM (Production Manager), someone I worked for a few years ago, and so I send off an email to him with my resume. About an hour later Kim forwards an email to me that he sent to the PM recommending hiring me.

I get a call the next day from the PM and he sets up a meeting with the Director for this morning. I make a mistake when setting my alarm clock. I had unplugged it and so when I reset the time, I set it for an hour later than it actually was. So I got up at 5:30am thinking it was 6:30 to leave by 7:30 for a meeting in North Vancouver for 9:30. The traffic wasn't as bad as I anticipated so it only took an hour to get there. On the way I discovered my error (when the radio DJ announced the time as 'twenty to seven') and so I was two hours early. I went to McDonalds and had some breakfast and read the newspaper for an hour and a half and then showed up to the meeting early. I sat in the board room and read the script while I waited for the Director, who had not been informed of the meeting so was half an hour late.

We had a great chat and at the end he said 'Well, that's great." I was expecting a, "We'll let you know." but instead got a "Welcome to the crew." I was elated.

After a lovely afternoon with my daughter and her charges at the daycare, having lunch at a park after a 'field trip' on the SeaBus, I headed home.

I doze off in my chair while reading the book I forgot to take with me this morning, and the phone wakes me up. It is a producer from a show called Rise of the Apes and he wants to know my availability. In a bit of a sleep fog, I dimly recall seeing the name of this production somewhere recently. I reply that I just took a show today. He asks me what the dates are. I tell him. He says that they conflict and thanks me and that's that.

I mull over the name of the show. Rise of the Apes. Hmmmm. So I get on the computer and check the latest production list from IATSE, the union that does the big shows. Sure enough, there it is. It's a HUGE show. HUGE. As in, I-have-never-been-on-such-a HUGE show. I agonize as to what to do. This is a fabulous opportunity for me. I see on the list that there's a script supervisor already so this means second unit. I comment on it on my FaceBook page and instantly get comments back from friends in the industry. Basically they all tell me I am crazy if I don't call back right away and beg to be on the show.

So, after much agonizing, I call. I ask for a few more details and then agree to send in my resume. I will leave it up to God. If they call me back offer me the job, then I will take it. Maybe. I just don't know what to do! I really don't want to back out on a show I have said I will do, that's just not cool - and I really like this PM so don't want to burn a bridge with him. AND I have a wedding to not only go to on August 13th, but I am doing the bride's hair and makeup as well as my daughter's, one of the bridesmaids. If I get this, I won't even be able to go to the wedding. I can't stand the thoughts of that. So I will wait to see if they even call.

They just called. I'm going in for an interview tomorrow afternoon.

COUNTING CHICKENS

Wow. I think someone is trying to tell me something.

A friend told me today of another kids show shooting here in Langley for five months, union, looking for a script supervisor, and the line producer (LP) is a guy who hired me five years ago for The Collector and, when we wrapped, the producer said it was the best decision they made all season. So I figure, this should be a shoe-in. I call to talk to the LP but he's in a meeting. So I leave my number and then send him an email. He calls me a few hours later to say they DID need someone a few days ago but one of the producers decided they wanted a certain person for the role and they just hired them. So... disappointed to say the least.

But, I have a meeting scheduled with the producer about the other kids show and all the emails I have to date, plus a conference call, assures me that it's mine. Until half an hour ago. I got an email from them saying that 'they no longer require my services'. What? So I send an email asking what happened. I just got the reply saying that they decided to hire someone just to take camera notes, they don't really need a full-on script supervisor. Wow.

So... I have those two MOW's to fall back on. I hope. But at the rate this all is going, I think I need a new career. I just have no idea what.

A DAY IN VANCOUVER

I have booked a job for six weeks! It's a kids show, three weeks on various locations throughout Vancouver and then three weeks in the studio. It's ridiculously low pay but it's a ten hour camera day, because of the kids, and it is six confirmed weeks of pay. I have struggled with taking it because I know that one director has asked for me to work on his show in August, but it just got pushed and I have learned that you can't count on anything these days until the deal memo is signed, especially once they start pushing. Also, Ron's movie is set to start at the end of August, but again - same thing. I could make more money with those two movies, a lot more, but they haven't started pre-production yet so they could get pushed into next year, for all I know. It's happened before. Two movies that were supposed to go any day, all last year, finally got canceled altogether. So I feel I must take this show, despite the long commute, the abysmal pay, and the chance of missing a better paying show.

Not having a car to get me to work, I call my son. He has a VW Jetta that is parked because he bought a jeep wants to sell the car. It's not selling. I offer to pay his car payment and insure it, if I can use it. He agrees so now I have a car to use for a couple of months, at least. YAY! It's so great to be mobile again. I have felt like I have been under house arrest for the past few weeks.

It's a gorgeous Saturday morning, and I head into Vancouver for an 11:00 appointment for my hair doing. I have left getting it done weeks past where I normally would because I just can't really afford it, but with almost two inches of silver roots and way too much length, I can't stand it a day longer. I will use some of the garage sale money. And Isolde, bless her heart, always gives me a very healthy discount.

I leave the house at 10:00 precisely - it should only take half an hour to get there on a Saturday - and before I can get to the Port Mann Bridge, I am crawling along like it's rush-hour Monday. It takes me 45 minutes to get to the other side of the bridge. I figure it must be the construction that is happening for a new bridge and, consequently, all along the freeway for miles. I call and tell the salon that I am going to be late. Then I do the stupidest thing - I take the exit into Coquitlam because I have just heard on the radio that it's an accident near this exit that is tying things up, and as I look ahead - now at a dead stop - I can see the police lights flashing way ahead. I figure I can bop off here and zip down Lougheed Highway and get back on at Brunette. As I turn the cloverleaf onto Lougheed, I see the traffic ahead of me is also stopped dead. This time it's a combination of construction and idiots like me who thought they could bypass the accident. It takes me another 45 minutes to get back on the freeway, watching the traffic on said freeway now zipping by as they have passed the accident. What a nightmare. I am so frustrated by the time I arrive at my appointment, I am vowing NEVER to drive into Vancouver again as long as I live. Except I do have this new show and I do have to come in on Tuesday for a meeting with the producer. GAH!

Isolde, my son's girlfriend and hairstylist extraordinaire, quickly sets about making me look respectable again. I love the cut and color and leave feeling a million times better than I did when I arrived. (Note: I will post a picture when I have styled it myself. I can't seem to get a good photo today.)

I decide that to turn around and drive straight back home when I am here in the city on such a glorious day would make no sense at all, so call my daughter to see if she and her hubby are anywhere nearby that we can get together. She doesn't answer so that probably means they are kayaking on the ocean or careening down a trail on their bikes someplace. I decide to head to Granville Island to buy my first meal of the day, and sit by the water to eat and watch the boats come and go.

The crush of people and the sights and smells of the market-place are almost overpowering. I dodge and weave my way to the ready-to-eat section and, on the way, try to decide what I will order. Indian food or a crepe? I love crepes, but I really want some butter chicken, so the Indian food wins. I take my selection outside and find a table in the shade.

Is there anything better than this? Well, if I am honest, yes - if I was sitting on one of those boats, heading out to the water as I savoured each bite of fragrant rice and curried chicken (washed down with Canada Dry Ginger Ale) as the sounds of the shore faded away to be replaced by the slapping of the water on the hull. As it is, the warmth of the breeze, and the spectacular view of the city, water, and mountains is pretty fabulous.

I have moved to a spot in the sun and closer to the water. I alternate between reading my book for a bit and then watching the boats. I don't move for two hours. I get a call from Ashleigh saying that they are just on their way back from a bike ride and she's cranky because she had to push her bike more than half of it - both ways on a big hill, apparently. Too steep to ride either way, for her comfort level. So they won't be joining me. When I finally decide to get up, I have also decided that I can have my Indian food and eat a crepe too. It's dessert! Bliss!

My blissful state of mind soon evaporates on the way home when I encounter another huge traffic snarl as I, once again, pick a rotten route to my destination. It takes me 20 minutes to go one block. Is there anywhere in this city that isn't under construction?

Sights and tastes of the day:

THE FORT

I walk into Fort Langley to drop off a book I borrowed and pick up another that's arrived. An Embarrassment of Mangoes was excellent, and I spent most of yesterday typing all of the recipes into my computer. I just know I am going to need Caribbean recipes one day soon!

I pick up the third book in the Twilight series. I started them last summer and never got around to books three and four. Number four is still on order. I also pick up Dan Brown's new book, The Lost Symbol. As much as I don't believe at all the theory he proposed in the book, The Da Vinci Code, I enjoyed the story and read it in a day, sitting under a tree in the park.

I sit for a while under a tree on the grounds of the Fort Langley Hall, and enjoy the weather and the scenery. This building, along with the rest of the small town, has been in dozens of films. Hope Springs (a good chick-flick), with Colin Firth (who I got to meet) - where I first talked to a PA about working in film and she told me that the person who watches for mistakes while filming is called a Script Supervisor, and also told me I wasn't too old to get into the business; the remake of John Carpenter's, The Fog - they painted the hall a lovely Wedgewood blue, and then had to paint it back to this, comparatively, ugly yellow because it is the historically correct original color ; and more MOW's that you can shake a stick at - I have worked on several that have shot here and one that used the inside of the hall for a square dancing scene in a movie called The Secrets of Comfort House.

I ran into the circus for a Front Street production on my walk into the Fort. It is the bunch I just worked with when I did makeup for a few days. They are shooting Mrs. Miracle 2. I tried to get on it as scripty (as my friend Laura who was on the last one just got hired onto The Troop for three months) but they had someone else already. I don't think I will ever get to work for them again as scripty. Not sure why but it seems that way.

THE SECRET OF OZ

I am reading a LOT these days. I am working my way through the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon - I am on book 3; I just finished reading An Embarrassment of Mangoes by Ann Vanderhoof - a MUST read for anyone who is or wants to sail the Caribbean or who loves to cook. While at the library, picking up that last book, I also purchased 4 books from the retired rack. So now I have some great summer reading ahead of me. When I am not working, that is. I just got a call for a 6 week kids show that starts a week from Monday. So that will keep me out of books for a bit.

I set aside my books yesterday for almost two hours to watch a movie my son recommended to me. It's called The Secret of Oz and I am writing about it here to say that EVERYONE should see this movie. Halfway through I found myself very angry; by the end I was frustrated that the solution to the national debt most countries face, as well as our tanking economies, is SO simple and SO profoundly effective. I BEG you to get hold of this movie (there's a link below direct to Amazon where you can purchase it) and watch it as soon as you can. Ignorance, in this case, is NOT bliss.



Clink on the link to MY STORE - Sandra's Selections, for a complete selection of the Outlander series as well as all my other favourite books (and other fav stuff!).

A POLL FOR MY READERS

Ok so not a real 'poll' but I need help with a decision.

For years I had my hair short and dark brown. For a while, about two years, I dyed it black. Then a year or so ago I went gradually blond - well a light brown base with lots of blond highlights. And longer gradually. I don't want black hair again - when I look back on photo's it was too harsh.

It seems some people think I look great blond and longer hair, others think I looked better dark and short. So I am putting up a few pictures of both ends of the spectrum and the stages between and asking you, dear reader, to leave a comment and let me know what you think. I WILL go with the majority on my next visit to my hairdresser, who also happens to be my son's girlfriend, so please weigh in with your opinion. Dark, blond, or one of the in-betweens. Which is it to be?

Even if we've never met in person, I value your opinion based on the pictures so let me know.

Thanks!!





I can't make captions work so lets just number them from 1 to 8 from left to right, 1-4 on the top row, 5-8 on the bottom row. Let me know which number you prefer.


























































Oh, and here's a really old one from 2002! No highlights whatsoever.

NOT QUITE FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL, BUT....

I was in bed by 8:45 last night, completely exhausted.

I have five friends I have known for twenty years and the six of us meet as a group, or try to, twice a month. I love these women and we've seen each other through a lot of stuff. This weekend was a doozy.

One's mom died. One's son got married. One's son had a baby girl. One's daughter had a wedding shower. And I had a mammoth garage sale (Larry and Willy were no-shows) to get rid of the last of my things that I don't have stored in one of those friend's crawl space. (The sixth friend didn't have anything significant happen this particular weekend, but her whole life is one long soap opera.)

While trying in vain to stay alert during my friend's daughter's shower, which my daughter came down from Kelowna for and stayed with me (she's a bridesmaid), my dear friend couldn't help but notice how exhausted I looked. She made the comment that, the fact that I just sold a lot of things I had some emotional attachment to thus experiencing another layer of shedding my former life was most likely playing a significant part in how tired out I was. I hadn't thought of it, but I think she was probably right.

And the two very strong Margaritas I had at the garage sale probably didn't help.

That and going to a late night show with Shonah on Thursday night to see Toy Story 3.


Waiting for the movie wearing3D glasses ......Pretty Wedding Table......................Garage Sale Necessities............................Stuff That Didn't Sell

JACK CALLING

I am sound asleep at 7:15 a.m. this morning when the phone rings. Last night, as I was about to turn off my bedside lamp I remembered that I had not turned my cell phone to 'silent' - something I do every night as I have been wakened too many times in the wee hours by a wrong number. I looked at it lying on top of my current book (I went and bought the hard cover of The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest - I just couldn't wait for the library) and, for the first time ever, thought 'oh whatever' and didn't turn it off. So not like me.

So when the phone rings, I snap out of a dead sleep and grab it. I look at the caller ID. JACK. Jack? Who's Jack? The only Jack I can think of is a producer in LA I worked for last summer and I don't have his number saved. Then it hits me. THAT JACK! It's the radio station, Jack FM. I have their number saved so I can speed dial it for contests when I am driving into work in the morning. I quickly try to clear the morning voice from my throat and flip the phone open.

"Hello?"

"Hi there!!!! This is Larry and Willy calling from Jack FM. Who's this?"

"Sandra."

"GREAT! Just who we were hoping to get. We want to talk to you about your garage sale. Can you hold a minute?"

"Sure." I answer and, as rock music fills my ear, I clear my voice some more and shake the cobwebs from my brain.

A couple of days ago I received an email from Jack FM telling me about a promotion they're having called Larry and Willy's Neighbourhood Suck Up. The gist of it is, write and tell them about an event you're having on the weekend and they might show up in the Jack Suck Up Truck and party with you and hand out freezies to everyone. They specifically named garage sales on the list of the type of events they were looking for. I thought that was pretty timely so quickly filled out the form and, in the "description of your event" space, I just copied and pasted the ad I placed on CraigsList. I sent it off with pretty low expectations. But now, here I was on the other end of the phone, waiting to talk on the air!

Pretty soon the music ends and I hear them say, "We are looking over entries for our Larry and Willy's Neighbourhood Suck Up this weekend and we have Sandra Montgomery on the phone to talk about her garage sale... So Sandra, first of all, what do you think about GM Place now being called Rogers Arena?" I JUST read about that yesterday. I don't watch the news or read the newspapers anymore, for peace of minds sake, but every now and then a headline catches my interest on Yahoo. I had also just read about a new name proposal for Stanley Park. How great that I know these two things; I won't sound like a complete idiot. "Well, with that and the name change proposed for Stanley Park, I'm not going to know the city soon." "Oh no no," they both chorused, "that's been struck down. Stockwell Day stood up and said it's not happening." "Oh good!" I reply.

"So tell us about this huge garage sale you have planned for Saturday. We're interested in the antique sewing machine. Is it a Singer?" "Yes, I believe it is." "Of course it is, that's what they all are." They then ask me some questions about stuff I have listed and comment on my line about 'no crocheted toilet roll covers' and say they will bring a few to toss on the table. They ask me for the address and for directions. They ask if there's a landmark nearby like "under the big oak tree" and I say there's not but there will be signs on the main roads and then, because I work in the film industry and can find anywhere with the arrows they put up to locations, I am putting up pink arrows that I made to lead to the house from the main street. They jump on that. "Ohhh! Great idea!!!" I hear them both chorus. Then one asks me, "If you don't mind my asking, what do you do in film?" I tell them I am a script supervisor, but no one knows what that is. "Are you responsible for that awful Twilight script?" they ask. I say I am not but I did work at the cabin they used for the werewolves den a few weeks ago. "Oh really? Wow, that's kinda cool." I am on the air for ten minutes with them and it's so much fun! They finally say that our garage sale is in the running for a visit from them on Saturday. I tell them we are planning on making some Margaritas. "That's it then. We're coming." one says. The other says, "Great. Drunk by 9:30, passed out on the lawn by noon getting sunburned."

After I hang up I realize it was martinis we planned to make. Now I need to find a good Margarita recipe in case they show up!

DOWNSIZING

I am having a MASSIVE garage sale this weekend. All the stuff I want to keep is safely tucked away in a kind friend's crawl-space. The rest is stored in a shed and on Friday, I will take a rented truck and some strong armed friends, and bring it all to the house I live at. My friend here also has a lot of things to sell, and another friend - Dan who I met working at the Olympics - has just moved and has stuff as well. So this Saturday we are putting it all out on the lawn and, hopefully, getting rid of it ALL.

There's some great stuff to be had so if you live in the area, stop on by.

VIEW THE AD ON CRAIGSLIST

WITH GLOWING HEARTS

Here is a fabulous book that anyone who loved the 2010 Olympics, or wants a reminder captured in one amazing book, should definitely own. I plan to own one very soon.

Please order through this link and help to make this website start to generate some income! THANKS!!!



These photos were taken by my friend who took them solely to promote the terrific book he just purchased.

COCONUT CRABS

So apparently island life isn't all white sand, warm water, a balmy breeze to keep one cool, and a margarita at hand to keep one cooler.

I don't remember how I came across it, but I was reading a Discovery article about Amelia Earhart. It seems there's some evidence that she and her flying partner were stranded, and died, on the island of Nikumaroro. Parts of a female skeleton were discovered as well as some artifacts consistent with what would have been with them. The article goes on to say that the rest of the bones were most likely carried off by Coconut Crabs and that, most likely, their giant pincers took care of reducing them to skeletons in the first place. Yuk! So I Googled 'Coconut Crabs' and, (insert whatever expletives you like here - I wish I was the swearing type because the 'Queen's English' just isn't adequate sometimes), I actually recoiled and pushed the chair back from my desk.

And I thought it was just tarantulas and big cockroaches that were the one drawback of island life.



Apparently, they don't harm humans (yeah right) but use their giant pincers to crack open coconuts.