I live in a Mexican neighborhood now and people are always coming by here trying to sell me something. Last night, three boys came here with a galvanized dish pan full of homemade bread. I have seen how it is cooked, in an outdoor kiln. It is delicious. I bought a bread for ten pesos. They were so happy that I bought one. Earlier in the day a man walked by carrying two enormous flower pots made out of clay. They were strapped with rope around his neck and one on each side of him. I don't know how he managed to carry them. It was hot and he was exhausted and sweating. I bought them partly because I felt so sorry for him, having to walk around with them strapped on, as if he were a donkey. He even brought them into my garden. I couldn't have picked one of them up because they were too heavy. So today I am going to find some potting soil and put some flowers in them. They cost me 250 pesos. That is about seven dollars each. Here is a photo of them.
Some of the flowers in my garden are blooming.
This is half the bread. I already ate some of it.
This is the bread along with my first gardenia from my garden. See how the top of the bread is black. That is from the way it is cooked in the kiln. Great stuff. I shouldn't have bought it because it is too addictive.
All in all, even though it will be insane here for the next two weeks, I have a great life. My friend Nicks is taking me out to breakfast along with his dog named Dog and Chico. They recently returned from the States. He had to go back to get rid of the rest of his things. As soon as he arrived there, he wrote to me that he hated it and could hardly wait to get back to Mexico. Pat was the same way. She came here from a short trip to the States. Life is hard up that way. Okay, so this place is flooded with people for a couple of weeks. But they are having fun. There is a feeling of festivities in the air everywhere. Sure beats hanging out in malls up that way. I am not going to go on and on about this because since I have been here for so long, I don't think about it much. I rarely even think that I am in Mexico. I just think of it as my home.... Home Sweet Home..... I wonder what the next person knocking on my door or yelling in my window, is going to be selling.....