Sunday, February 27, 2011

because dawn will throw fistfuls of ants at me

A day at Playa Conchal with the kids reminded them how ideal Costa Rica is. It also leaves her weary hair very dry and this is no place for the weary kind. A hot olive oil treatment while she lay under the sunset and the hair soaks up some natural strength should do the trick. Alas, having missed the studies in college on the habits of ANTS she did not know that P. megacephala showed a significant preference for olive oil. She arose to a swarm of ants in her hair and skittering around her shoulders and down her back. Dream fulfilled. And in the end... they are more powerful than us. link

Friday, February 25, 2011

gold in my mouth

Quiero dormir un rato,
un rato, un minuto, un siglo;
pero que todos sepan que no he muerto;
que hay un establo de oro en mis labios;
que soy el pequeño amigo del viento Oeste;
que soy la sombra inmensa de mis lágrimas.

da Gacela De La Muerte Oscura-Federico Garcia Lorca

The Girl has grown into a wry conscientious objector (en pointe: biting a guitar she does not know how to play during a party in Avellanas). Living in Central America has stripped her of any a priori definitions of "cool" she had. However, preteens are still preteens no matter where they have spawned from. She manages to take the best of all she has learned and apply it to the sticky situation of gossip, boys, beauty, spanish, amigas. And her best, is, well, the best.

The principal of the school said that The Girl handles each and every situation with complete poise and wisdom. The P.E. teacher said, and I quote, "Your children have been such a blessing to the school. She came here and has made all the boys want to be better men because she is such a strong yet loving girl."

If nothing of me is left here in my sleep, those kids are the gold in my mouth that will speak forever.

Saturday, February 5, 2011