Heat. Day after day of heat. Never
dreamed I'd be praying for our May gray or
or June gloom to come but I am hoping and praying
for the arrival of night and morning low clouds.
Where oh where is our traditional, standard, boring marine layer?
Our in-at-night-and-morning to burn-off-by-afternoon coastal cloud?
Our natural air conditioning, our gifted breath from the sea?
Banished by the massive dome of HOT AIR that
covers all the western zones of the continent.
By now you may have heard that Mexico
has banished several Cuban diplomats from
her soil, including the ambassador, and
withdrawn from Cuba her ambassador.
Because of Castro's continuing pot-shots across the bow of
the ship of latinamerican states, his denunciations, and
meddling. The fact the President Fox of Mexico is a member of
the conservative right-wing party is... well, is. Nevertheless Mexico
DOES NOT LIKE foreigners getting involved in her internal politics.
Understatement. "Intervention" is a very, very
bad word. And the act itself, well....
We have now completed one week in our new
home, together at last. I am glad the moving was
over before this worst heat of the year began. It was
warm a week ago - (as you remember if you read about my
lovely Potosina collapsing on the sofa after we returned
from the sobreruedas street market) - but not hot like today
or yesterday. Of course that did not stop me from
wandering SLOWLY through the market again
yesterday, drinking a soda
bought nothing else.
I went to see and hear the playing of
some music. Including my son's composition
for Marimba.
Kind of blew me away. In whom I am well pleased yes.
He says he's writing an oratorio for
my poem cycle Moctezuma. And to
think I am still only finishing
the second draft still still
Eeee there's a goad for this mule yes....
I have errands today. Get water. Wash
clothes. Maybe somewhere along the line I
will type in this diary entry yes maybe.
I do not ever want to publish anything as long-
winded and bla bla bla as the last one a week ago
kept me from publishing anything for a whole week
hmmm... excuses excuses I'm beginning to sound like
refried David in my own lard -
miss you, muchacho!
not apo strophe remember
