Laughing with Di

Do you dream about having been marooned on a tropical island and you feel as if you know how it would be?
In my case, this island would have to be an atoll, the ring-shaped coral reef encircling a lagoon partially or completely. The key word here is completely. Land in the ocean in a circle would alleviate my fear of water. I can’t swim. I don’t do water. Hard for me to comprehend an island is attached to Earth somewhere under water that makes it not float away. On my atoll, I could run in circles and always come back to the same place. I would have “nowhere to go but all day to get there…” (quote from a very wise family member).
I would write all around my circle of sand, “Beam me up, Scottie” and hope for the best.
If I made a rope from palm tree stalks, tie it to a tree and secure it to my waist, maybe I could perform natural functions in my little lagoon without needing a body wiper.
Are there berries on my atoll? I could smoosh them and use the juice as a dye to create playing cards. For, what better reason was the game “Solitaire” designed? Palm fronds could be cut into rectangles with my handy cuticle scissors. Did I not mention that when I was stranded on this atoll I had my purse with me? Anyway, when I made fire (boy, I’m really sounding like a Girl Scout), I would use the black ash for the spades and clubs in my deck of cards and my red berry juice for the hearts and diamonds.
I would write 50 books, read them all and then start from the beginning. I wouldn’t remember the first one because I’m old. Right?
And, maybe Meals on Wheels might do a fly-over every now and then to keep me sustained as food would be limited, though, I would sorely miss spaghettios and vanilla cream cookies.
Somehow in my waking moments this feels all too familiar? Same for you?