Hola mi amigos. I'm sitting in my makeshift studio upstairs from where the real action takes place (la cocina). Guinness is asleep on our wee balcony after a busy early evening surveying the street scene. The windows are open to the cool night air. Nemo is sleeping and pooting, but has suddenly remembered something and left the room (thank God). Whup, now he's back and has positioned himself between two wooden bars under my drawing table, and has one large ear is sticking straight up. I hear chickens and lambs and a neighbor backing his car up, and his shocks require attention. Birds are chirping, cows are mooing, children are laughing, horses are doing whatever they do at night, I hear footsteps on our dirty little cobblestone street below, someone is hammering something, and a truck just backfired on the libramiento. Just looked over my left shoulder towards the little green bodega below, across the street (50 ft away), over Guinness napping on our wee balcony while a van containing a smiling young girl looking up at our big shaggy black dog drives by. Over my right shoulder I see the pale blue old baby mtn toward Morelia fading into the evening. It's overcast, the rains have arrived, and it is very cool in Patzcuaro. Feels sleepier than our last trip, quieter.
