I’m beginning to look like Phyllis Diller, what with not having had my hair cut for two months, so I decided to go into town today and have that taken care of. I had other things to do as well, and thought I would get all my other business done first. I boarded the bus in
Then I walked to the Mercado, to the little shop where I had seen some sandals I liked. The lady in the shop (which is smaller than most bathrooms, by the way) spoke a little English, which was helpful. It turns out I wear size 5 shoes here, which makes me feel ever so dainty. While I tried on some sandals, she scurried around, finding more of them. I finally said “You’re giving me too many choices. If you had just given me one pair, I’d have bought them. Now I have to decide. Oh, dear. This could take some time.” I finally settled on one pair and bought them. My Birkenstocks have chosen this time to fall apart, and I don’t want to ruin them by wearing them any longer with soles that are threatening to come off. I’ll have them resoled when I get back up north. Meanwhile, I have a pretty little pair of size 5s. Heh.
I revisited the stall where I bought my big cazuela the other day, bought two little tiny ones for serving salsa, hit the veggie stall for chiles, garlic, tomatoes, cilantro. Then I went back outside and decided I was hungry, thirsty, and too tired to go looking for a hairdresser. I caught the bus home, and on the way it occurred to me that there’s a salon in a little mini-mall right here in