I took this photo after Easter last year while visiting La Antigua de Guatemala. I believe this was a view of one of the staging areas for Holy Week displays, so a good title might be “Santa Semana 2016.”
I went swimming this morning in Tallahassee. The skies were a bright blue with a few fluffy clouds to keep it from being too perfect. Another day in paradise, right?
My friends Barbara and Irena came about fifteen minutes after I’d begun my imaginative water ballet in the deep end of the pool at Trousdale Aquatic Center. When they’re present we chat about wine and books as we paddle from one side of the pool to the other. When they’re absent I pretend I’m a mermaid, so for a quarter of an hour I was in another world altogether.
We had a swell time today and even made plans for wine and cake on Friday. After an hour of frolicking I bid the ladies adieu and headed to the showers. It didn’t take long for me to get squeaky clean, and soon I was ready to go in search of food.
A lady I don’t know came into the locker room as I was leaving. “Did you hear? Shirley’s car was broken into.”
Now I do not know Shirley, but my sympathy was instant and sincere. Like an idiot I asked, “Here? In the parking lot?”
“Yes,” she responded. “They smashed her window and took her purse.”
My heart sank. I’d left my purse under the seat of my car. I hurried out to the parking lot, but didn’t have to walk far in order to see that my driver’s side window had been broken.
Glass covered the seat and floorboard of my Mazda. I cussed. Like a salty old sailor. Then I went to see if the police were already on their way. Four other cars had also been broken into and purses taken from every one. The police officers were efficient, but not very reassuring.
Apparently a group of enterprising thieves in our area targets cars in the parking lots of swimming pools and fitness centers and movie theaters knowing that their owners will be busy for quite awhile. They sure had a nice payday on this one.
It took me the better part of an hour to clear the glass out of my seat so I could drive without poking holes in my buttocks. Even then I pricked my hand on a sliver embedded in my steering wheel.
I spent the remainder of my day canceling credit cards, calling the department of state to notify them that my passport had been stolen, and the IRS to report that our measly little refund check was in the hands of ne’er-do-wells.
Thank goodness I didn’t have my social security card in my wallet. That was the one bright spot of the day. Probably the thing that bummed me the most was that they stole the beautiful bag that I purchased on my trip to Guatemala.
So I want a do-over. I want to go to bed like Bill Murray in “Groundhog Day” and wake up to the sound of Sonny and Cher singing I Got You Babe. It could happen. Right?
Thanks for listening.
I’m no photographer. In fact, Mr. Kodak and Mr. Polaroid will come together in Kodachrome Instamatic heaven to weep inconsolably at my ineptitude, but if it reunites them can that be a bad thing?
But even the worst photographer gets a break now and then. This is most likely the most beautiful photo ever taken by anyone. I believe the photography gods were smiling down on me on this one allowing me to capture my niece Hanna on her wedding day in Guatemala.
So take that, Mr. Kodak and Mr. Polaroid. And even that Ansel Adams dude.
Are you the artistic type? Do you create art for others, either photography or paintings or any other item that the public needs to know about?
Here’s your opportunity to get attention on a site that receives literally thousands of views every single day. I’d like to say that describes my blog, but no. It’s John Scalzi’s “Whatever” blog site.
Scalzi is a science fiction author who has followers all over the world, and who at this time of year accepts submissions from writers and creative types who want to get their work in front of a wider audience. Go to the link above and get your name out there.
He explains the submission criteria in detail, so go. Tell him I sent you. That won’t help your chances of being accepted because John Scalzi has no idea who I am, but if he reads my name often enough he might just remember me next year when I have something to submit.
Good luck, and as always, Peace, people!
Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: When was the last time you did something new? How did it feel? Would you do it again?
Antigua in April to
Cobblestoned streets and
Bargaining for woven
Three years’ worth of
Español and a few
Jouncing along with
Friends in three-wheeled
Drinking Picosas at a
Reveling in the sight of
Volcanoes exhaling into the
Rising early to the melody of
Rejoicing in the marriage of
Two beautiful souls in a
Would I visit Antigua again?
¡Sí! ¡Sí! ¡Sí!
I am perhaps the least photogenic person on this planet, so there are very few photos of me worth sharing. And, it’s not that I look particularly great in this photo, but it appears that someone is looking at me in an admiring manner.
Lest anyone think that was the case, let me reassure you that shortly after this was snapped my “admirer” asked politely if he could please cross in front of me to go to the restroom.
Yep, I have that effect on men.
The Daily Prompt asked, “Do you like hot and spicy foods, or do you avoid them for fear of what tomorrow might bring?”
I like my food hot.
The kind of heat that
Makes me wipe the
Sweat from my
Brow as I eat.
Any residual suffering
For the sake of spiciness
Should be borne with
Stoicism and great
Enjoy this video of my nephew, Beto and his business partner, Dan. Then start thinking about a trip to Hobbitenango!
I. Third World you might say,
Or developing country
Depends on viewpoint.
II. Looking at my world
With fresh eyes and open heart
What might our guests see?
III. Our ruins are fresh
Compared with Antigua’s own;
IV. Yet ruins abound
And for many life is hard.
Poverty lays claim.
V. Third World existence
Among First World convenience
Which is most honest?
When will you learn?
Worry does nothing
But lead to heartburn.
Will you stop, I wonder?
Perhaps someday when
I’m six feet under.
I spent quite a chunk of the past 48 hours worried that my son and daughter-in-law hadn’t made it safely home from Guatemala. They’d stayed to hike one of the volcanoes, and instead of flying home to the U.S. on Sunday with the rest of the family, they had plans to fly out on Wednesday.
The last message received was a Facebook post saying they were enjoying a final meal in Antigua on Tuesday night. Then nothing. So last night I began texting. Nothing. This morning I began calling. Nothing.
I have a vivid imagination. Women with vivid imaginations should never be left alone for too long. Here’s one of the many scenarios I imagined:
Following that final Facebook post my son was knocked senseless in trying to thwart a kidnapping attempt on his wife. The kidnappers had my daughter-in-law and had taken my son’s phone, identification, passport, and all of his money. When he awakened he had amnesia and was wandering around Antigua begging for spare change.
I called the airline and learned that the couple had boarded their flight. Of course then I wondered if perhaps someone had stolen their passports and flown home in their stead.
There was no rest for me until my daughter-in-law’s sister sent a message saying the couple had returned and were thoroughly buried under piles of makeup work.
Now my imagination is working on ways to torture my son for not getting in contact with me. Let’s see, thumb screws ought to do the trick.