I'll see your treat sandwich and raise you a treat-wich!

How's that 10:15 am cold beer and chips on your patio treatin' ya?!??!?!?! Oh. Real good. After an early showing of the house with some folks from Montreal, I took a break from my scrubbing to enjoy a nice cold Sol and play a little ukulele while gazing at the ocean. I tried counting waves for a while, but kept losing my spot. How lucky am I to be doing this right now? I'm very thankful, and even though I am working to get the house clean, ready and sold, it's still quite a bit of fun to be here. If you are reading this, and you aren't lame, you are welcome to come visit me for a bit.

Let's talk about good ideas. Let's just say you have a 2-wheel drive Nissan Pathfinder, packed with yourself, another gent, and three older women (one of whom is in a wheelchair). What would you do to make the best of that situation? I'll tell you what I'd do for sure - I'd grab some food/drinks, head out to a remote beachfront property (that I don't own) next door to Mighty Fine (my place), arrive at 5 pm en la tarde, get the suv stuck in the sand, and spend all night trying to get it out/sleeping packed in the vehicle. I woke up this morning to find this exact situation next door to me; the 5 of them stuck right in front of the house next door after spending the night, and I had to drive the massive 4x4 that I'm using over some plants to pull them out. It was so awesome. Diego was pissed, cursing in Spanish at them and probably me, and I'm standing there grinning like an idiot - happy that my knowledge (airing down tires, momentum, etc) solved the situation...plus Negrito got so excited he ran over and tripped over his front legs, plowing into me. What a morning. Take that Yucatan!


Recall the man I mentioned before that helps the poor Mayans? He was in Guatemala delivering toys and the candy I bagged up, and David (his employee) needed help running the shop that sells the goods those same Mayans create. I volunteered to be a warm body, did a terrible job selling, but got to chat in Spanglish with people all day - strumming away at my ukulele in the wide door of la tienda. I met the most awesome young man, Manuel, who must have been about 7 years old. He was captain personality, and was trying to sell Maracas to the passing people (by yelling maracas, maracas, maracas at everyone that passed). First of all, I was sad that young kids like this have to work here, but it looked like he was making the best of it. He chatted to me about everything, complimented my playing, talked about the pretty girls walking by and making ass-grabbing gestures to get a laugh. I wish I was loaded so I could set his family up with funds so he didn't need to work, but I'm the exact opposite of loaded, so I just talked with him. What an interesting kid.

I shared the shop with a trio of Cuban women - the Grandma, Mama, and the daughter, who seemed to run the show.  They made tons of jewelry and clothing by hand, and they spoke a brand of spanish much faster than the mexican spanish I'm struggling to follow.  They were very sweet, and offered to custom-make me a shirt, although they couldn't believe I wouldn't want any pockets on it.  I also saw (and this is without dispute) the cutest little girl I have ever seen, and she was carrying a puppy to make it worse.  She had to be 4, had super dark hair in wavy chunks, the deepest big dark eyes every made, and she was a little pouty.  I didn't have a camera, so I did a police re-enactment in the picture here.  Now, keep in mind this girl isn't even CLOSE to how cute this girl/puppy combo was (the real thing had no unibrow, for example) but you get the idea.  Let's just say, any kid I could hope to have (and I was a cute kid) would be used as rags to line the bed of this girl's puppy to catch pee.  If they had a cute kid contest, where kids would come up and be judged against this girl and her puppy, they would be cast into the abyss like that Monty Python movie with the bridge and the questions.  It was that bad. 

I had the surprise pleasure of riding with the grandma and granddaughter to Merida to look for fabric for my shirt, and then took a sketchy bus ride home complete with that guy on the bus that keeps turning around to look at you thing.  I love that.  What I actually did love, was all the senoritas running around in Merida.  Whoa.  I was warned that I would be in trouble down here (and I'm behaving myself), but there are a lot of pretty ladies.  When I chat with the guys here, they are bored with their morenas, and are after the blond girls with blue eyes.  Interesting how we yearn for the rare.  I'm hoping that the weeping sores I have on my body will keep them at bay.  Later jacksons!