Arbitrarily speaking

The truth is so many interesting things are happening every moment. Right now: The wind whipping loose cables against the house, pushing the clouds at such speed. Within one minute sun turns to shadow; it rains; returns sun. The windows shutter. A cieling board leading up to an uncrawlable crawlspace lifts up and lands back askew on the rafters. The swinging door in the kitchen sways and creaks. Gusts lash through the tin chimenys; the stoves inside vibrate a little.

Unfortunate plastic bags tatter through the streets, sticking to trees and fenceposts. A red bug, tinier than a pinpoint, hurries down the white wall, tracing loose esses. These must be the types of bugs--in large quantities--they used to dye wool, anciently. Someone writes all this down, abritrarily.

Elsewhere a couple commences their first kiss. Someone is on fire or dreaming of flying salmon. Looks up phoenix in the dictionary. Cries for loneliness or a wedding. Hides under the bed. Gives birth. Is born. Dies. Looks in the mirror and sees a stranger. Starts their first day of work. Avoids an accident on the road. Saves a life on the river. Writes a difficult letter to a friend. Stares out the window instead of the hard monitor. An orange striped cat stares back--halted. Takes a few steps, looks back, locks eyes. Continues this along an entire fenceline, so that one cannot even leave her future gaze.

Visit us while the skies are blue

...and while we are still here! This is a small photo post, because I finally have an internet connection fast enough to post pics! My photo-taking skills are sorely lacking, but it's on my list of things to learn, as is Turkish, Photoshop and knitting.

A few clear-day photos from Torres del Paine, doing the usual W trek...

Typical Patagonian skies, on a clear day.

Base of the Towers on a crazy calm windless day.

Los Cuernos at night with a bit of moon.

And a couple more photos from our land. Yes, it's true. Just like real adults, we have bought a slice of the Patagonian pie. It's half a hectare just outside of Puerto Natales in a sector referred to as Los Huertos. Beautiful views of several mountain ranges and of the fjord (if you build two stories). We don't have any plans to do anything with it. We're just hoping to have an asado fiesta there (or my other idea is some sort of sunworshipping rave, but that looks doubtful). For now it's a great place to play frisbee, especially when you get the wind on your team.

Land view toward fiordo Ăšltima Esperanza.

Land view Cerro Dorotea side, with pro frisbee tosser.

Happy New Year!

It's the beginning of summer down here, the days are long and the weather rainy. Lambs, which were born a few months ago, eat people's lawns or get eaten by people. The lambs have already grown quite a bit, so they're on super sale. And what better time for an asado than NY's eve, right?

In the markets store clerks incessantly restocked booze and briquettes while dodging the hordes of people trying to complete their shop before everything closed down. By 5 p.m., the carnicerias had freshly skinned and butchered lambs dangling in the windows. Strings of blood still dripped from their toothy grins. And their eyes, just a spot poppier for having no skin.

As I was walking around town revving up for our New Year's eve events--which did not include any little lambs--I passed several men shouldering black plastic bags stuffed with a clumsy something. Then one man with a bounce in his step and a garbage bag on his shoulder walked by, his long-necked lamb's head bobbing behind him. that solved the puzzle of the what's in the bag.

We're still thinking about buying a lamb to chow down in our backyard jungle. But what to do with the cutiepie when he turns mutton age and we aren't in town anymore. I have a rule about not eating pets.


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