Culture Shock and the land ladies declaw my garden
PeeWee the cat was crying like a baby and batting me about the head and shoulders early Friday morning.
I was so jazzed to be back in Nicaragua that I stayed up till after three smoking, unpacking all my new stuff and drinking water and now just three hours later PeeWee was hoping to force an early breakfast out of me and it worked. I rolled out of bed to pee….I came out of my front room onto the back porch and saw the garden. I felt like I had come home to find my son with a big black eye. Even in the soft mosquito filled light of early morning the garden gasped for life. I was warned of a forthcoming orange tree trim, the oranges were falling in the pool across the fence. But evil doer had scraped up all the baby ferns, ground covers and grasses that have been struggling thru the dry season, down to bare packed dirt, the palm frond / compost heap was gone, the palm fronds had been trimmed off the coco tree and and worst of all, the potted plants looked like it had been months not weeks since they had been watered. The once circular sour orange tree was now a perfect half circle, allowing more sunlight than every before and new scenic vistas of the big two story house behind us. Dead leaves drifted on the still morning air and formed small piles at the base of the plants….
Even potted plants right near the door were neglected. The plants must have screamed for water while they were overlooked while feeding the cat. PeeWee had found her pace and was snapping up the wiskas..I got out the hose and started to soak the garden and potted plants. It was clear that most were goners. Some of these jungle plants have great recuperative powers and this is the end of the dry season, a natural time to die back. It still seemed a real violation of my space, rented or not no one cared about that space till me and I have 3500 cordabas planted back there, watered with sweat….
It really is time to find a new place. This was an easy option for a place when I needed it.
But I think I can find a bigger / better place for more money. And since the land ladies have moved in next door it seems like I am living on the fold out couch at my aunts house in Fla….They are cheaper than me and there is a 60 day notice and a months deposit to deal with…..But as the idea sinks deeper into my heat baked brain I care less about the dough and more about the move. My neighbors across the street moved out around 11:30 at night, seems to be a tradition .Maybe the girls would like me to leave, but I am not looking forward to telling them. But I have been holding back so feeling and I might enjoy venting a little. Unlike so many of those stool moisteners at the El Quixote bar, I don’t need them to salve my aches and pains with cold beer and cheap rum..
So Saturday I meet with Don Victor, a small Indian featured gentleman of some advanced age. Don Victor is the human equivalent of the rental section of your local paper or maybe Craig’s List. He has a list of available properties for sale or rent and seems to know half the town by name.
We had an appointment for Saturday morning at 11 near Tres Mundos Plaza. It was around noon when I came back to the house to get my cell phone and give Don Victor a call. He speaks real fast typico Nica Spanish and all I understood on the phone was five minutes so I headed back to the center of town. Saturday is a half day of work for most people so the streets we getting quiet in the mid day sun. We went to just around the corner from my current place and looked a two bed two bath for 250. It was long and dark, Nicas are not impressed with the sunny blue skies and like to burrow in like turtles.
There was lot’s of room and a funny smell. It had a dropped ceiling and was just to cave like for me. A good value and the Miami Nica land lords seemed nice enough, the son even claimed to be related to “A Rod” the baseball player by marriage? Do I want to see their finca (farm) for rent just outside of tow. I regret that I said no.
The next place was around a few blocks west of my place. It is just behind what is touted as the oldest house in Granada and has been home to a succession of tourist based businesses. I have noticed this house from walking by. It has a modern façade and is painted gray with black trim. Not a typical color scheme for these parts. It was a big square inside place with a caged in open roof section overlooking the arroyo. New kitchen and tile, roman columns and five sinks, three showers and no furniture or utilities paid. Still impressive, at 4 hundred it’s fifty more than I pay now and then the utilities. If I can find a place for 250 or less I can get my own cable and internet connection, maybe satellite tv….The last place turned out to be a ways out of town but only a few doors done from Michael and Carina new place. This place had the gringo palace feel. Two story with big wide wooden doors and a second story patio. Furnished with a full kitchen, nice beds and even a spiral stair case up stairs…for the same price I pay to live in the back room and tend the garden….It was to enclosed for me. A big part of living here is the being outside and feeling the breezes. And this place would have seemed at home at a Spanish themed development in Wisconsin. But still, great bathrooms and brand new stuff, another Miami Nica landlord. Pudgy guy with sandals and Gucci sun glasses..But again no outside space of any kind. I’ve seen some 2 and three bedrooms places but they rarely have appliances
the quest goes on….
So, I have looked at a few more places for rent but it’s been a rough week here. Every day seems to get hotter. 85 this morning at seven thirty, that’s when the school marching band fired up and rehearsed a few tunes before heading off to celebrate The Virgin Mary’s appearance at Fatima. Mary appeared here in Nicaragua as well and she is probably more important here than her son. As I type it’s a little over a hundred this afternoon. The power and water outages are back. And we now have a full blown transit strike. The fares for busses and taxis are set by the government. Gas here is over $4 a gallon, diesel fuel just over $5 and how any taxi or bus driver makes a living is beyond me. Last time the government raised bus fares 12 cents there were riots in the capitol. They drivers are wanting the gov to freeze fuel prices….But the strike has forced almost all motorized traffic off the roads leaving only the horse drawn. They don’t care so much about the price of gas. But I go to Managua 3-4 times a month on the bus to buy food and the peanuts for my peanut butter. All the food here is brought in from the outlying areas as are most essential items. Private vehicles belong to the upper class. Today I saw a Hummer and a Ford Explorer parked by the Zaquan Steak House….If the strike goes on for more than a week, things will get ugly. Stores and restaurants will run out of merchandise and food. The gas stations will run out of gas….People commute on the express busses and the town to town chicken busses haul people and freight all over the country. Even the private busses that take the well off kids to their better schools are parked. Around 7:30 a.m. the streets leading to the Mercado are lined with taxis bringing the vendors and their wares to the market place. Not this week.
The strike has gotten a little ugly, picket lines with burning tires and rubber bullets. The talk is of a month long strike.
We had some rain one night last week. First rain since mid March and the tv predicts the first big tropical depression of the year will pass thru Nicaragua on Monday. Thunder and lightning of biblical proportions. Thunder so loud and close that the little hairs on the back of your neck stand up and three or four inches of rain fall in an hour to wash the streets and arroyos clean. The rains will bring back cooler weather with overcast skies and strong breezes. The plants have died back and they too are waiting for the rains…
I don’t have stomach problems here but I must have gotten a bad egg for breakfast on Wednesday. Two in the morning came and I felt like a toothpaste tube being flatten by a steel toed boot. I was explosive but ever so glad I had scrubbed down the bano earlier in the week. I couldn’t keep anything down for the next day or so. I just laid in bed and drank water. It’s better today, I had half a breakfast today and a litre of this nasty tasting “Suero Oral” It’s like a medicinal Gator Aide powder, helps you rehydrate. It’s says Strawberry Flavor on the packet but only people who have never tasted a strawberry would believe that.
Next time I’ll just get a bright blue bottle of Power Aide….
Monday, May 26, 2008
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Black Balloons in the Tavern
Black Balloons in the Tavern
My brother in law turned 50 and the half century mark was celebrated at Casey’s Tavern out on old West Main. The surprise was truly a surprise being almost a week after the actual birth date. My sister was too drag him down to a favorite track side watering hole around six thirty. The place was open to the public but sis and her pals had bought a keg and brought in a huge steamer of shredded beef with greasy old fashioned twin packed boxed ripple cut potato chips and chex cereal party mix. I was hoping that the usual cliché “over the hill” jokes and gifts would be kept at a minimum. I am after all, older than the birthday boy. I gave him a medio of 7 year old dark FDC Rum from Nicaragua. But he also got a plastic dust cover for his dick, an over the hill t shirt and a for some mysterious reason a giant carved wooden Mexican chocolate whip? I caught the food saver analogy but the molenera? There was a newly effected no smoking law and many trips were made out side to “have a butt”. It was good to have the door propped open. I noticed this week that in the tropics the temp is gradual, slowly up and down. But here, it’s in and out…the store is cool, the car interior is hot, the outside air is frosty, the apt is 80 f, my body doesn’t know what to do, so I sweat. …..Anyway we all had a swell time joking about Rory, drinking beer and eating sandwiches. Was that Garrison Keeler?
My 17 year niece and her acned young boyfriend from the farm collected car keys around 9. I think she likes driving different nicer cars and she was disappointed about rentals cars rules and a little surprised that I was drinking water on the rocks. Drinking is a bit of a family tradition. Rory kept up the family honor and had a terrific time. But when the keg ran out the crowd so did the crowd. We took down the balloons and shiny aluminum decorations, wrapped up the giant left over B Day cake and my niece and I soberly drove everybody home.
Next morning things moved a little slow till we went to a Mexican restaurant. A popular spot. Good American style Mexican classics. My niece was concerned about me having eaten too much Mexican food living in Nicaragua. I explained that they were two whole different countries and while there are two Mexican owned and operated Mexican restaurants in my town. Most Nicas eat Nica food. Her teenage pal from high school asked what country Nicaragua was in? I think what impressed these modern mid western teens was that their wacky old uncle living some where in the jungle had a my space page….We went to another massive grocery store, bought more food and ate it while watching the Minn hockey team lose a play off game.
On Sunday my brother in law grilled up a bunch of chicken breasts and we had a big old fashioned Sunday dinner…We argued a little politics and I hope I impressed on him that you vote with your money everyday and that being anti corporate is very much about being pro small town mom and pop, all American blue collar down home stuff.…Around two I tanked up the rental car with ethanol at the Super America… I was off to visit a long ago friend who lives on a scenic 150 acre spread near Rochester Minn. Beautiful huge log home, wild life and horses on a spring feed duck pond. Okay I am jealous…But I know It took him 28 years on the job to swing the mortgage and I have not that much dedication to any job I have ever had …I haven’t seen him or the other guest of honor Donna in over 20 years. Some serious nostalgificaton going on now,…With photos. Great dinner, roast pork with wild rice and fresh little green beans, field green salad,…mmmm and new to me, Sulfite free organic red wine….All good to me. Red wine here in Nicaragua comes in a dusty old room temp wax box from Chili. I had heard decades ago that she had married a cult type reverend. They are still together, 2 kids and 20 plus years.. her husband reminds me more of my the bearded and cardigan wearing Presbyterian Pastor I had as a therapist than any kind of Jim Jones. Nice people, looking for answers and trying to help.
I headed back to Nebraska early next morning. It was 6:30 am and the sun was starting to thaw the brown farm fields. The wild turkeys were strutting around down by the pond and the donkeys brayed a fare well…Small town America on a Monday morning, I looked for a breakfast place but only saw McDonalds. Just a coffee, please.
I was 20 miles north from Rochester and had I went south at the twin lane dirt road intersection leading off the farm I would have been having eggs at a hip mom and pop near the fairgrounds. Great flea markets the Gold Rush and Orinoco, back in the day.. But I went north towards St Paul and Monday morning rush hour. Two lanes full of suburban commuters in Honda pick up trucks and Range Rovers. I had no real idea how to connect to the free way or even what freeway to take. I followed the plethora of state route signs till I saw one that I recognized.. Ft Snelling State Park…Kind of far north and east from where I am heading but I had heard the name some where back in time, park board dances dressed in fringed vests and bell bottom jeans. Sting ray bikes and John Lennon glasses so, I head west singing “When I Was Young” by Eric Burden, my eighth grade class’s song of the year…. I ended up finding my way from St Paul to Mpls using age old memories of riding my hi rise death mobile bike around the park system. Ft Snelling to Minnehaha falls…Little ways further to Lake Nicomas and my old neighborhood. It may not be direct but it was scenic and I headed out at 66th Street, the same way I had meandered in…A scenic hour and a half detour but it all down hill from here. South bound on 35W, 80 mph rolling with the big rigs and excellent public radio from Mpls. I got to Omaha in the afternoon and did a little computer printer shopping in Council Bluffs and Omaha, I was in a Target store, a Super Target, it looked like all the others but the plastic smell was like huffing gas from a plastic bag. I started to feel queasy and stepped outside. No more shopping. This gave me an excuse to have Runza for lunch. When I came back from India tanned skinny and penniless, I lived in my folks basement for 18 month while saving money to go to LA and attend the Gemological Institute of America. That’s another story.
I discovered Runza a Czech baked meat roll. A nice state wide chain, clean with great crinkle cut fries…I got to the folks round 5:30 and the meat loaf was ready..
I surfed the net on mom‘s AOL dial up, confirmed my tickets on SW and Spirit, finished an Ebay deal on a Nicaraguan Hanna Barbera Ricochet Rabbit bank and found a small b&w laser printer on Office Depot‘s web site. Next morning we went to a brand new barely shook open Office Depo store were a sweet, erstwhile missionary minded asst manager got me hooked up and on my way happy.
Mom was making lunch of home made vegetable beef soup and grilled ham and cheese sandwiches when we got home. Time to pack for real. The 50 pound airline weight allowance is my challenge now. The new printer w extra cartridge, my old hand tools, clothes, food, books and more had to be broken down to two fifties, a forty-four and back pack. We got out the scale and got both checked bags to around 48 pounds and ready to fly…
Dad was happy to help by cutting town the original stryo packaging to fit my suitcase. Man, when did he get soo old…Still sucking the cancer sticks while the stryo foam pellets stick to his face. In my head I am far younger than I really am. So seeing my almost 80 year old parents and funeral arrangements is quite the realty check. They take about asst care homes instead of Cruise Lines. They appear to have made a concise decision that they are too old to do anything anymore and that they will sit patiently waiting for their turn in the tunnel. A little fatalistic but Dad even circled the day he will live longer than his evil old Dad did. So, apparently he is free to pass after he outlives my grand pa. Only a few months away. Most of my friends parents have passed and they understand the hanging sword that is having old parents. They are like eight year old now and I fear the day they start to act 4 years old. I wish they come down here, they can smoke cogitates and watch the wheel of fortune, we have casinos and soon a fancy grocery store but it’s too much for them… They will make a poor estate sale, unlike the country club set in Ft Lauderdale. My bargain basement ticket on SW Air stopped in Chicago at Midway for an hour and then just a few hours later we left for Ft Lauderdale. Moods were a little ugly before we finally boarded two hour late mid day flight. And this time SW’s boarding scheme, C stood for center seat I had a liquored up yankee on one side and a sneezy wheezy corporate gal with Crackberry on the other, kicking and screaming new agey kids behind. Luckily I didn’t notice who was in front. I have never been to south Fl before and it is some thing to behind, clean and breezy, million dollar yachts and top less Ferraris.
An old buddy was eager to show me his adopted town and he had agreed to meet me at the Air Port, back in college Jim and I dated Mary & Lisa best friends and room mates for years. Has a creative out side the box thinker and was inspirational for me, introduced me to a entrepreneur spirit. Later he moved out east. He started the Needle Exchange in dark and staid Boston…But nowadays I didn’t recognize him at the airport. It has been maybe 20 years since I last saw him and 20 more since his last haircut. Down to his butt, still a rocker at heart…We rolled in his classic mile wide Lincoln Town Car so while moving we had automotive camouflage with the silver haired set in their Town Cars. Great food, great thrift store…pretty people showing off in a scenic way.. I like this Ft Lauderdale. It’s like a shiny post card. His newly divorced ex wife is a hot 30 something Russian woman who works for a liquor distributor. She has Central America for a territory.:. Insert your own joke here*
The faded 1960s upstairs condo is facing the waterway and the cool evening breezes were a treat.. Blue Crab enchiladas for lunch and later after more thrift storing we had some neighborhood Chinese food before Jake went to his gig playing piano and I headed off on the short last leg of the USA trip. First time on discount carrier Spirit Air, the staff seemed a little surly and a club soda cost 80 Cordoba’s. But my bags and I safely landed an hour or so late at 12:30 and with Paxoes Shuttle Mitsubishi SUV waiting I was back in my Granada apt before 2am.….Home sweet home…the ceiling fan had been off for a week and the sala (front room) smelled like opening an attic door in August, you could smell the heat like a sauce gone bad. Still good to be home? Lizard poo on the pillows and How many dead mice are there? Is that plants I hear screaming? Where‘s PeeWee?….next time:
Culture Shock and the land ladies declaw my garden
My brother in law turned 50 and the half century mark was celebrated at Casey’s Tavern out on old West Main. The surprise was truly a surprise being almost a week after the actual birth date. My sister was too drag him down to a favorite track side watering hole around six thirty. The place was open to the public but sis and her pals had bought a keg and brought in a huge steamer of shredded beef with greasy old fashioned twin packed boxed ripple cut potato chips and chex cereal party mix. I was hoping that the usual cliché “over the hill” jokes and gifts would be kept at a minimum. I am after all, older than the birthday boy. I gave him a medio of 7 year old dark FDC Rum from Nicaragua. But he also got a plastic dust cover for his dick, an over the hill t shirt and a for some mysterious reason a giant carved wooden Mexican chocolate whip? I caught the food saver analogy but the molenera? There was a newly effected no smoking law and many trips were made out side to “have a butt”. It was good to have the door propped open. I noticed this week that in the tropics the temp is gradual, slowly up and down. But here, it’s in and out…the store is cool, the car interior is hot, the outside air is frosty, the apt is 80 f, my body doesn’t know what to do, so I sweat. …..Anyway we all had a swell time joking about Rory, drinking beer and eating sandwiches. Was that Garrison Keeler?
My 17 year niece and her acned young boyfriend from the farm collected car keys around 9. I think she likes driving different nicer cars and she was disappointed about rentals cars rules and a little surprised that I was drinking water on the rocks. Drinking is a bit of a family tradition. Rory kept up the family honor and had a terrific time. But when the keg ran out the crowd so did the crowd. We took down the balloons and shiny aluminum decorations, wrapped up the giant left over B Day cake and my niece and I soberly drove everybody home.
Next morning things moved a little slow till we went to a Mexican restaurant. A popular spot. Good American style Mexican classics. My niece was concerned about me having eaten too much Mexican food living in Nicaragua. I explained that they were two whole different countries and while there are two Mexican owned and operated Mexican restaurants in my town. Most Nicas eat Nica food. Her teenage pal from high school asked what country Nicaragua was in? I think what impressed these modern mid western teens was that their wacky old uncle living some where in the jungle had a my space page….We went to another massive grocery store, bought more food and ate it while watching the Minn hockey team lose a play off game.
On Sunday my brother in law grilled up a bunch of chicken breasts and we had a big old fashioned Sunday dinner…We argued a little politics and I hope I impressed on him that you vote with your money everyday and that being anti corporate is very much about being pro small town mom and pop, all American blue collar down home stuff.…Around two I tanked up the rental car with ethanol at the Super America… I was off to visit a long ago friend who lives on a scenic 150 acre spread near Rochester Minn. Beautiful huge log home, wild life and horses on a spring feed duck pond. Okay I am jealous…But I know It took him 28 years on the job to swing the mortgage and I have not that much dedication to any job I have ever had …I haven’t seen him or the other guest of honor Donna in over 20 years. Some serious nostalgificaton going on now,…With photos. Great dinner, roast pork with wild rice and fresh little green beans, field green salad,…mmmm and new to me, Sulfite free organic red wine….All good to me. Red wine here in Nicaragua comes in a dusty old room temp wax box from Chili. I had heard decades ago that she had married a cult type reverend. They are still together, 2 kids and 20 plus years.. her husband reminds me more of my the bearded and cardigan wearing Presbyterian Pastor I had as a therapist than any kind of Jim Jones. Nice people, looking for answers and trying to help.
I headed back to Nebraska early next morning. It was 6:30 am and the sun was starting to thaw the brown farm fields. The wild turkeys were strutting around down by the pond and the donkeys brayed a fare well…Small town America on a Monday morning, I looked for a breakfast place but only saw McDonalds. Just a coffee, please.
I was 20 miles north from Rochester and had I went south at the twin lane dirt road intersection leading off the farm I would have been having eggs at a hip mom and pop near the fairgrounds. Great flea markets the Gold Rush and Orinoco, back in the day.. But I went north towards St Paul and Monday morning rush hour. Two lanes full of suburban commuters in Honda pick up trucks and Range Rovers. I had no real idea how to connect to the free way or even what freeway to take. I followed the plethora of state route signs till I saw one that I recognized.. Ft Snelling State Park…Kind of far north and east from where I am heading but I had heard the name some where back in time, park board dances dressed in fringed vests and bell bottom jeans. Sting ray bikes and John Lennon glasses so, I head west singing “When I Was Young” by Eric Burden, my eighth grade class’s song of the year…. I ended up finding my way from St Paul to Mpls using age old memories of riding my hi rise death mobile bike around the park system. Ft Snelling to Minnehaha falls…Little ways further to Lake Nicomas and my old neighborhood. It may not be direct but it was scenic and I headed out at 66th Street, the same way I had meandered in…A scenic hour and a half detour but it all down hill from here. South bound on 35W, 80 mph rolling with the big rigs and excellent public radio from Mpls. I got to Omaha in the afternoon and did a little computer printer shopping in Council Bluffs and Omaha, I was in a Target store, a Super Target, it looked like all the others but the plastic smell was like huffing gas from a plastic bag. I started to feel queasy and stepped outside. No more shopping. This gave me an excuse to have Runza for lunch. When I came back from India tanned skinny and penniless, I lived in my folks basement for 18 month while saving money to go to LA and attend the Gemological Institute of America. That’s another story.
I discovered Runza a Czech baked meat roll. A nice state wide chain, clean with great crinkle cut fries…I got to the folks round 5:30 and the meat loaf was ready..
I surfed the net on mom‘s AOL dial up, confirmed my tickets on SW and Spirit, finished an Ebay deal on a Nicaraguan Hanna Barbera Ricochet Rabbit bank and found a small b&w laser printer on Office Depot‘s web site. Next morning we went to a brand new barely shook open Office Depo store were a sweet, erstwhile missionary minded asst manager got me hooked up and on my way happy.
Mom was making lunch of home made vegetable beef soup and grilled ham and cheese sandwiches when we got home. Time to pack for real. The 50 pound airline weight allowance is my challenge now. The new printer w extra cartridge, my old hand tools, clothes, food, books and more had to be broken down to two fifties, a forty-four and back pack. We got out the scale and got both checked bags to around 48 pounds and ready to fly…
Dad was happy to help by cutting town the original stryo packaging to fit my suitcase. Man, when did he get soo old…Still sucking the cancer sticks while the stryo foam pellets stick to his face. In my head I am far younger than I really am. So seeing my almost 80 year old parents and funeral arrangements is quite the realty check. They take about asst care homes instead of Cruise Lines. They appear to have made a concise decision that they are too old to do anything anymore and that they will sit patiently waiting for their turn in the tunnel. A little fatalistic but Dad even circled the day he will live longer than his evil old Dad did. So, apparently he is free to pass after he outlives my grand pa. Only a few months away. Most of my friends parents have passed and they understand the hanging sword that is having old parents. They are like eight year old now and I fear the day they start to act 4 years old. I wish they come down here, they can smoke cogitates and watch the wheel of fortune, we have casinos and soon a fancy grocery store but it’s too much for them… They will make a poor estate sale, unlike the country club set in Ft Lauderdale. My bargain basement ticket on SW Air stopped in Chicago at Midway for an hour and then just a few hours later we left for Ft Lauderdale. Moods were a little ugly before we finally boarded two hour late mid day flight. And this time SW’s boarding scheme, C stood for center seat I had a liquored up yankee on one side and a sneezy wheezy corporate gal with Crackberry on the other, kicking and screaming new agey kids behind. Luckily I didn’t notice who was in front. I have never been to south Fl before and it is some thing to behind, clean and breezy, million dollar yachts and top less Ferraris.
An old buddy was eager to show me his adopted town and he had agreed to meet me at the Air Port, back in college Jim and I dated Mary & Lisa best friends and room mates for years. Has a creative out side the box thinker and was inspirational for me, introduced me to a entrepreneur spirit. Later he moved out east. He started the Needle Exchange in dark and staid Boston…But nowadays I didn’t recognize him at the airport. It has been maybe 20 years since I last saw him and 20 more since his last haircut. Down to his butt, still a rocker at heart…We rolled in his classic mile wide Lincoln Town Car so while moving we had automotive camouflage with the silver haired set in their Town Cars. Great food, great thrift store…pretty people showing off in a scenic way.. I like this Ft Lauderdale. It’s like a shiny post card. His newly divorced ex wife is a hot 30 something Russian woman who works for a liquor distributor. She has Central America for a territory.:. Insert your own joke here*
The faded 1960s upstairs condo is facing the waterway and the cool evening breezes were a treat.. Blue Crab enchiladas for lunch and later after more thrift storing we had some neighborhood Chinese food before Jake went to his gig playing piano and I headed off on the short last leg of the USA trip. First time on discount carrier Spirit Air, the staff seemed a little surly and a club soda cost 80 Cordoba’s. But my bags and I safely landed an hour or so late at 12:30 and with Paxoes Shuttle Mitsubishi SUV waiting I was back in my Granada apt before 2am.….Home sweet home…the ceiling fan had been off for a week and the sala (front room) smelled like opening an attic door in August, you could smell the heat like a sauce gone bad. Still good to be home? Lizard poo on the pillows and How many dead mice are there? Is that plants I hear screaming? Where‘s PeeWee?….next time:
Culture Shock and the land ladies declaw my garden
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)