Buenas tardes. I am thrilled. It is a bridge day. That means Senor is gone. That means I get to do whatever I want.
So I have been cleaning out the room that will be the closet and little black jumping things kept biting me. It is some kind of little jumping fly or maybe it is a flea.........great. I used a domestic spray on the whole room and after awhile they seemed to go away.
Senor has this nasty habit. It drives me absolutely insane. Now this is what I mean about getting to do what I want when Senor is at bridge. I get to tell his secrets.
He eats these 'cup of soups' for his lunch.
Now, first of all, they are not good for his health, they are loaded with sodium, but I cannot really talk about that. I am the one with high blood pressure who drank two cups of casi cielo yesterday and then, two cups today, which is possibly why I have the energy to tackle this closet in one hundred degree temperatures. But this is not about health.
He saves the cups.
In the closet I found over fifty cups, all stacked together in the corner. A few were loose and had nails or screws or assorted pieces of metal in them. And some of them had these little black jumping fly flea bugs in them.
I tossed them all. He will never know. I put his little nails and screws and pieces of metal in other assorted containers, cans, jars, small boxes.
Then I reorganized the closet because once Umberto finishes plastering and I finish varnishing, a door will go up. Somehow, I thought this would all happen in a day. HA.
I went to town yesterday while I waited for the first varnish coat to dry. I went to one of the local bazaars, which is like a flea market or thrift store, looking for our stuff. Before I went I looked up the word tent...............carta, the dictionary said.
So, I locked up new old bike at the Alameda, paid thirteen pesos for a limon repasdo, people watched for awhile and waited for the bazaar to open.
Inside the bazaar, two men were playing electric guitars. Next to them was a huge old Harley motorcycle. I looked around for a carta and did not see one. One of the men asked me what I was looking for. I tried to describe an electric hand drill, a hammer drill and a carta. He looked at me very strangely and said............la carta. I said................ si, la carta. Then he asked me if I wanted to go for a ride on his Harley and I said...........no.
It was an awkward moment for some reason, and I was confused. I had no idea what all that was about.
When I got home, I tried to remember all the words I had used, figuring I said something wrong or was misunderstood.
A carta is a tent.
A carta is a letter.
A carta is a love affair.
So...........................don't think I will be going back into that bazaar again.