It's Saturday morning. I seem to have wi-fi right now, so I'll quickly post yesterday's journal entry, while the posting is good!

January 9 - at least I think that's what day it is. Whoever is supposed to be working on the wireless here has been doing so all day, so now we have no wireless at all. I had better make a journal entry, though, to be posted tomorrow (or later, in case of miracle) - because the days just float by like clouds.

I spent most of today reading a wonderful book called Open House by Elizabeth Berg. I've written a blog entry about it for The Red Room, so I won't repeat it here - but I will say (particularly to any woman reading my journal) Read This Book. I haven't laughed so hard in months.

Between readings, let's see. Robin took his kayak out into the sea through formidable waves, communed with the surfers for a while, then tried to come back in, but got badly dumped. His paddle broke under the wave. Fortunately, he and Thiess (sp?), the owner of the park, were able to repair the paddle, using a piece of dowel. I took a bit of film of Robin in the kayak, and another bit of Robin staggering ashore - but I missed the actual dump, because I was busy getting a tattoo.

No, no, not a real tattoo. A henna tattoo that will last two weeks. At least, that's the theory. While it's there on my ankle, it is pretty, however long it lasts.

I made two forays into town in the course of the day. The first trip was just up the street, where I went to check out a different grocery store. On the way back, I smelled breakfast cooking, so I stopped and ate at an open-air restaurant right across the street from our park. I had ham and eggs and Mexican rice and Nescafe with cinnamon in it, and more corn tortillas than even I could eat.

Then there was a long period of not much but reading, interspersed with cups of tea.

At four o'clock (this is fast becoming a habit, the four o'clock, post-siesta shopping trip) I crossed the bridge into the main village, bought ground beef from the butcher and spaghetti from the grocer, then came home and prepared dinner.

Kristin told us that there's an open-air movie theatre a few blocks away. They show a film every night at 7 o'clock. That sounded great, and we planned to go down there tonight, but somehow we got busy - reading, both of us - and before we knew it, it was 8 o'clock.
That's the problem with life in the fast lane. Sometimes, it's just hard to keep up.