No word from the peripatetic pair.
I assume they are squirreled away in the hold of a cargo ship bound for a life of white slavery in Shanghai, or too busy to write.

In the meantime, from the August issue of Poetry Magazine:

Skin Teeth

One good Friday night I come home-
tired bad-and I canít find me children
or me husband. The house quiet like somebody dead.
I call up he best friend. He say the children
wid the woman up the road, but he donít know where
they father be.
Or maybe he just donít want to tell me.
So I jump in me car and drive up Monkey Hill.
I gon catch him, the bastard. I park behind he jeep
and take me blessed time an let the air
our of one–two–three tires.
Then I walk in the stupid lickle rum shop
as if is me who lay down the foundation
and is me who pay the rent. And I see him
holding some girl hand. Laughing like the world canít end.
As soon as the little squeng see me
she up like she ready for war.
But I is a big woman–canít bodda fight
wid pickney who donít understand what is mine is mine,
I smile broad wid alla them.
Then I pour he drink over he head, and tell him never
leave me children with nobody again.

Neisha Tweed

Now that Chris religiously leaves his autodialing phone in the truck, when I ask him for the time he’ll respond by saying, “I don’t have my cellphone.” Never, “I don’t have a watch.” Before the dynamic duo departed for Managua, Diane asked Matt to please send her Betha’s last name. Instead he sent her Bertha’s cell phone number.

At 2 AM last night, Diane blurted out, ”They got pictures with the president.”

Assuming she was blithering in her sleep, I replied, “ That is fantastic.” I was tempted to probe her unconscious with more questions, but before I could, she added, “Hil’s sick. When I got up to go peeps I checked my email.”

Here is Hil in full:

he stopped ignoring me as soon as i sent that. every now and then one of us gets cranky, which is just fine. nothing’s wrong or anything.

the last name is cuadra.

i’m not going to write a long email, but here’s what has happened so far:
i felt sick during classes, took a cab home afterwards. made it into my room and puked my brains out. matt called saying he’d be there in a few minutes. packed. got picked up. came here. hung out here a little. went to the presidential building. got inside. told bertha i was going to throw up. she told me to wait. i told her i couldn’t. her sister got me to the bathroom. threw up (JUST FANTASTIC, NO!?). waited for 2 hours to get a picture with a present. talked with him and got a few pictures. left. came here. hung out. ate (i had a jello. everyone else had yummy looking nica food. jealous). now i’m here. so ya. that’s life. i haven’t been sick at all and NOW i get sick. wonderful. the jello seems to be doing ok. even though the second time i only had water. whatever. i’ll get better. or something. i didn’t tell my dad i was sick sooo…. if you want you can pass along the message but tell not to worry, i’ll be fine, and if he calls i’ll be VERY ANGRY.

i love you all, Hilary

Dear Matt,

Dad and I would strongly prefer that you pay Egdelina et al for the last week, as she and they were expecting you and these folks count on these fees for their lively hood. But you do need to cancel Jose Luiz Lopez.

Sounds like you’re doing a good job on planning, but you need a safe place to stay before you go to Managua, and it needs to be in a neighborhood known to be safe, so maybe you need to get back to Berthe to clarify,

Love, Mom

*****************
Howdy,

We are leaving for managua on thursday afternoon, because that is when Bertha’s chauffeur is going to be picking us up and bring us to her house… yes you heard that right. We have been invited to stay with them the whole weekend, and that includes going to San Juan Del Sur with them. They seem very nice and very well off. We are going to hang out with Bertha and her friends in Managua on thursday and friday, and then we will go to San Juan Del Sur and to the beach there with them on saturday, and i think spend the night in their house. I am pretty excited about all this and it sounds like a blast. If you have any more question feel free to ask, but i would suggest sending them today as early as possible, because im not exactly sure what time we are leaving tomorrow. You can ask me to call and that would be fine as well, call you that is.

Anyway, much love
Mateo

*****************

Dear Matt,

Mom forwarded me your latest email and it sounds like you two have hit your stride. Take advantage of it all, and have a wonderful time. I just said to Diane that you’ve crossed that fine line between, “How many more days left before I get to go home?” to, “Do I have to go home?”

Love Dad

*****************

haha,
I think we definitely hit the jackpot with whom i make friends with. I mean, who knew striking up a conversation an airport could lead to a weekend in San Juan Del Sur and Managua. It should be a wonderful time and i will definitely take advantage to it.

Haha, i was just thinking about that line to tell you the truth. 8 more days does not really seem like all that much time. Although i do miss all of my friends a lot and look very forward to seeing everyone once i return home.

*****************

*Note: No more “much love,” or, “miss you a lot, mateo,” which illustrates every parents dilemma. When they are homesick, they write effusive, lapdog letters. When they aren’t homesick, parents disappear from their radar. Which means I have to take it upon myself to reestablish that tension.

Dear Matt,

That’s the funny thing about distance and time and friends. When you first left Chris asked about you all the time. Lately, I’ve heard about Robby, Cel, Kristin,Daryl, Laura, etc., but nothing about you. Yesterday I asked Chris if he had written to you and he said,” Who? Matt? Oh, Matt, I remember him… .” I’m thinking with you charging all over Nicaragua, and our basement freezer empty of Hot Pockets, you might be looking for a whole new gang of friends when you return.

Love Dad

P.S. We have two prospective renters for your room coming today.

Yesterday morning it was raining when Chris and I arrived to finish the deck/condo work. We both pushed through that let’s-go-home-and-go-back-to-bed barrier and ended the day with a feeling of satisfaction. All done, except for the removal of a temporary interior wall we built to prevent the ceilings from sagging.

As Chris stood for a final photo-op, I exclaimed, “Chris, we did well.”

To which Chris answered, “No, we did good.”


View larger image

This Weekend

i like letting you guys know what we’re up to, and it helps when it’s on the blog — we dont have to tell everyone individually! and i think matt and i realize that all our friends and family friends are here with us in spirit. when we get emails from cortney i can practically see her sitting there giggling and nodding, as she says she does. sometimes when i read emails to matt from her i sit here cracking up, matt pretending to not know me. its sweet.

Travel plans have totally changed. bertha called matt around 9 our time to tell us that they were sending their CHAUFFEUR TO ESTELI FRIDAY TO PICK US UP. let me repeat… CHAUFFEUR…. PICKING US UP. why are they doing this, you want to know? o right, because she wants to take us out to a nice restaurant friday night before we leave for their other house in SAN JUAN DEL SUR where we will swim and i’ll stay in bertha’s room and matt will stay in bertha’s brothers room. i’m flabbergasted, i dunno about you. It’s their kindness. they barely know us and yet they’re doing all these things for us! i checked with our teachers — mine said ®wow! dont pass up this opportunity! thats amazing! we can reschedule our class for tuesday. then you don’t lose any days of school and you can go and you dont have to pay for class next week!® soooooo, i think that’s what is happening. matt isn’t here right now cuz he’s takinga shower and then in 30 minutes berthas calling to tell us when we’re getting picked up. its concievable that we’ll get picked up thursday and go to the beach friday, but i dont think so. either way, we’ll check in again before we leave. we didn’t wanna call with this news until we were 100% sure about what was going on, but i think my parents will be fine with this — a safe place to stay with people who both know how to speak the language here and who are not going to let the stupid gringos (that’s us) out of their sight. i’m excited.

if you REALLY need to talk to my parents i can understand, but i am also checking in with them. i may not be homesick, and you may be sleeping like a log, but i have a feeling my dad a) misses me and b) is sleeping a lot less than you.

alright, i’m off.i havent seen the blog since thursday, i need to email lillian (the woman we know who lives in managua) about things in granada, hotel name, cost, etc, and email my madre as well.

much love, and i’m happy we’re both doing fine again, Hilary

**************

Next Week

Yes yes indeed leon was a good time, and i would tell you about it now but we have to go soon to do volunteer work, maybe later today once we get back. We do have to run something by you though. We are thinking that next monday will be our last day of class and that after that we’ll go to granada, massaya and then finally to managua, where we will stay in the quaker house on thursday night so we can get to the airport on time for friday morning. We dont want to do a three hour car ride friday morning. Anyway, just have to run this by you so that we can talk to egdelina about it tomorrow morning. It would be helpful if you could respond tonight, before ten, thanks a ton.

Love matt

**************

Yesterday

“Oh My Gawd, did you hear that?”

Had Chris looked at that back of my neck and seen those suddenly, at-full-attention neck hairs, he wouldn’t have asked.

“The thing is, we have to hear sounds like…”

“Like we’re going to die!”

“Yes, like we’re going to die. Lowering this deck pops nails, stresses joints and compresses wood, so it’ll sound as if it’s gonna fall right off the side of the building, when it won’t. At least I hope it won’t”

We had stacked enough lumber under this deck to build a suburb, and we lowered it using two jacks (one from my truck), and by removing that lumber, stick by stick. It was harrowing, but mostly because of my memory of a roof that almost collapsed on me. Chris wants me to tell that story, and I’m working on it now. The point is, memories only hang around and haunt. All right already, they might also serve to spare a teenager a gruesome death.

View image

As Matt drifts back to his normal, parents, I have parents ? attitude, we’re even more grateful for Hil who writes in the kind of detail that almost satisfies our hunger. Whereas Matt now throws us shoe leather, Chillin’ today, planning our three city tour for next week ending in Managua…glad you aren’t here, bye, “ Hil serves up this:

Leon was really what matt and i needed. we needed a weekend to relax, be comfortable, sleep in, go shopping, have no obligations, and that’s what we got. we went to a hotel called ®hotel los balcones® (balcones means balconies) which was under construction but very beautiful. our room had two very comfortable beds, air conditioning, hot(ish) water, and a television that had movies and shows in ENGLISH! that was really quite exciting. (it also had the news which we avoided like the black plague). we got there friday morning (after i realized that i had forgotten our list of hotels at home. ooops! but it was fine. we got in a cab, found Hotel Europa with lots of Dutch people and decided to try another place — balcones) and walked around a little. that night it poured cats and dogs. the lightening flashed every few seconds and the thunder was louder than i could’ve ever imagined. the street looked like a river. it was really quite beautiful.

that night we went to this great restaurant that (we thought) was called Taquezal. apparently our cab driver took us to someplace called Allante, but we didn’t figure that out till saturday. the restaurant was great, and had a wonderful atmosphere. they took their time with the food but it was nice to not be rushed and to just sit and wait and talk for a while. the food itself was amazing. matt got steak minon, or however you spell it, that had a delectable sauce while i got pork kabobs with onion and red pepper and we both had french fries on the side.

saturday we went for a walk and looked around at the shops. for lunch we went to a place next to the park, where the cathedral is.fairly simple food(i got a hamburger, he got ham and cheesesandwich) but it was delicious. afterwardswe went to this little hole-in-the-wall jewelry place where we got some beautiful things, and then it started to rain. just a little, not much. when it stopped we went out again and then took a cab to Taquezal. except our cab driver dropped us off at a different place. it looked EXACTLY the same except 100% different. the walls were the same color. the doorway was the same. the huge windows had the same grating/fence. the room was laid out in the same direction. there was a place to sit without a ceiling (patio, a lot of places have them) but it was NOT the place we had gone the last night. we thought about it and thought about it and finally, when our heads started to hurt, decided to leave to find what we THOUGHT was Taquezal. we left the restaurant before ordering and walked outside and decided, for the hell of it, to go around the corner. and there, in front of us, was the same guy who stood outside the restaurant from the night before and when we went in it was the same place. apparently, we had gone to Allante the night before, which is in the same building as Taquezal and looks exactly the same except smaller. it was way too confusing for either of us to handle. again we got amazing food at Allante (steak for both of us. mmmm) and then went back and watched a movie.

sunday we went for a walk and sat in the park a little. Matt went over to look at some graffiti (when translated, it said something to the tune of: Bush is the enemy of humans. die, imperial power. or something to that effect. i found it deeply amusing) and i talked a little with a nicaraguan (don’t know his name. he said it about 100 times too fast for me to catch). when i went over to look at the graffiti and take some pictures, we realized that it was a museum like place for the sandinistas. we went in and talked to a guy about the history of sandino, who lived in the20’s and 30’s, and then he talked about the civil war in the 80’s as well. it was really interesting. matt and i got posters with bush dressed up as a nazi with some stuff in spanish. we’re bringing them home, so you can see them too. sunday for lunch we went to the same place as the day before. simple but lovely. the milkshakes there were delicious as well.

for the bus home, matt had been told by his teacher that there was a bus at 3:15 that she recommended we take. it wasn’t express but it would get us here. but, when we got there at 2, everyone was telling us different things. the problem is no one REALLY knows what’s going on and will say just about anything to get you to come on THEIR bus and give THEM your money, so finally we hopped on one that we were told stopped at san islada (or something like that) and then we’d get off there and catch a bus a few minutes later to esteli. it was all very confusing, but after 3 hours on the first bus, we got off and there was a bus to esteli that arrived 5 minutes later. it took us 4 hours to get home, but it all worked out just fine.

today was a normal day. we had school and some more people moved into my house (YAAAAY! i was getting really lonely. they even speak english as their first language! weee) and then we ®volunteered® at the school. they really dont have anything for us to do. we hang out with some kids, translate a letter, then leave. but its interesting. at least 6 kids (aged 10 or 11) asked me about my nose stud, and one kid kept repeating ®regalo?® and pointing to my earrings and confusing me (regalo means present in spanish). finally i was like ®yes, regalo de mis padres (present from my parents)® and he left them alone. for about 1 minute.

i’m off now, but i’ll talk to you later. you can post this as a blog — its easier than having to explain it all again.

love and light, and i’m not homesick anymore. i’m doing well, happy, etc. much love, Hilary

***********
Tomorrow, the full text of Matt and Hil’s travel plans.

Back in Acton, work continues at Pearwood (Diane’s suggestion). Today we have to lower that pesky deck a full half a foot. How are we going to accomplish that safely? I have no clue. Chris, remember your running shoes. In the meantime, another vignette:

Talking Pockets

“Normally, my pocket starts talking. ‘Hello, hello, are you there?’ Last week, when I was at your house and you were yelling up to Matt in his bedroom, my phone called my home answering machine.”

“How much do these calls add to your monthly phone bill?”

Chris thought for moment, as if it were something he had never considered. Truth is, it had not occurred to me, but to Diane after I explained to her how Chris’s phone calls his friends when he sits on it. Sometimes it’s a simple matter of pressing against one of the speed dial numbers. The first day on the job, as we were attempting to lift one of those heavy beams, his phone rang. It was Laura returning Chris’s cell phone call.

“Maybe a lot. My phone bill last month was a hundred and fifty dollars.”

Long before I was introduced to Chris’s auto dialing phone, I got one of those calls from someone’s pocket. I picked up my home phone and listened to a conversation between three or four teenagers as they walked from somewhere to somewhere else. The scratchy sounds of cloth against the phone and their footfalls added mystery to my eavesdropping. I heard about, alcohol, the cops, girlfriends, pranks, all sorts of doings, and I waited, hidden in the pocket, for something more exciting to happen. Yes,
I had visions of a body tossed into Robby’s ideal hiding place.

Chris explained that sometimes it’s more complicated than sitting on one key. If the phone is locked, he has to first sit on the unlock key. Then he might move to the scroll key and begin to cycle through names in memory. He moves again, lets up on the scroll key, and then sits on the dial key, and voila! Robby answers. Chris’s phone calls someone about once a day, or it did until he began taking it out of his pocket and leaving it on our work bench.

As we we talked, Chris listened to his phone messages. “Hey, my phone called itself.”

He handed me his phone. Sure enough, it had left a message, and one of not too long ago. The sounds of two hammers at work: “Bang,bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, shuffle, shuffle, bang, bang, bang, remember, three nails every sixteen inches, bang, bang, bang.”

As Matt drifts back to his normal, parents, I have parents ? attitude, we’re even more grateful for Hil who writes in the kind of detail that almost satisfies our hunger. Whereas Matt now throws us shoe leather, Chillin’ today, planning our three city tour for next week ending in Managua…glad you aren’t here, bye, “ Hil serves up this:

Leon was really what matt and i needed. we needed a weekend to relax, be comfortable, sleep in, go shopping, have no obligations, and that’s what we got. we went to a hotel called ®hotel los balcones® (balcones means balconies) which was under construction but very beautiful. our room had two very comfortable beds, air conditioning, hot(ish) water, and a television that had movies and shows in ENGLISH! that was really quite exciting. (it also had the news which we avoided like the black plague). we got there friday morning (after i realized that i had forgotten our list of hotels at home. ooops! but it was fine. we got in a cab, found Hotel Europa with lots of Dutch people and decided to try another place — balcones) and walked around a little. that night it poured cats and dogs. the lightening flashed every few seconds and the thunder was louder than i could’ve ever imagined. the street looked like a river. it was really quite beautiful.

that night we went to this great restaurant that (we thought) was called Taquezal. apparently our cab driver took us to someplace called Allante, but we didn’t figure that out till saturday. the restaurant was great, and had a wonderful atmosphere. they took their time with the food but it was nice to not be rushed and to just sit and wait and talk for a while. the food itself was amazing. matt got steak minon, or however you spell it, that had a delectable sauce while i got pork kabobs with onion and red pepper and we both had french fries on the side.

saturday we went for a walk and looked around at the shops. for lunch we went to a place next to the park, where the cathedral is.fairly simple food(i got a hamburger, he got ham and cheesesandwich) but it was delicious. afterwardswe went to this little hole-in-the-wall jewelry place where we got some beautiful things, and then it started to rain. just a little, not much. when it stopped we went out again and then took a cab to Taquezal. except our cab driver dropped us off at a different place. it looked EXACTLY the same except 100% different. the walls were the same color. the doorway was the same. the huge windows had the same grating/fence. the room was laid out in the same direction. there was a place to sit without a ceiling (patio, a lot of places have them) but it was NOT the place we had gone the last night. we thought about it and thought about it and finally, when our heads started to hurt, decided to leave to find what we THOUGHT was Taquezal. we left the restaurant before ordering and walked outside and decided, for the hell of it, to go around the corner. and there, in front of us, was the same guy who stood outside the restaurant from the night before and when we went in it was the same place. apparently, we had gone to Allante the night before, which is in the same building as Taquezal and looks exactly the same except smaller. it was way too confusing for either of us to handle. again we got amazing food at Allante (steak for both of us. mmmm) and then went back and watched a movie.

sunday we went for a walk and sat in the park a little. Matt went over to look at some graffiti (when translated, it said something to the tune of: Bush is the enemy of humans. die, imperial power. or something to that effect. i found it deeply amusing) and i talked a little with a nicaraguan (don’t know his name. he said it about 100 times too fast for me to catch). when i went over to look at the graffiti and take some pictures, we realized that it was a museum like place for the sandinistas. we went in and talked to a guy about the history of sandino, who lived in the20’s and 30’s, and then he talked about the civil war in the 80’s as well. it was really interesting. matt and i got posters with bush dressed up as a nazi with some stuff in spanish. we’re bringing them home, so you can see them too. sunday for lunch we went to the same place as the day before. simple but lovely. the milkshakes there were delicious as well.

for the bus home, matt had been told by his teacher that there was a bus at 3:15 that she recommended we take. it wasn’t express but it would get us here. but, when we got there at 2, everyone was telling us different things. the problem is no one REALLY knows what’s going on and will say just about anything to get you to come on THEIR bus and give THEM your money, so finally we hopped on one that we were told stopped at san islada (or something like that) and then we’d get off there and catch a bus a few minutes later to esteli. it was all very confusing, but after 3 hours on the first bus, we got off and there was a bus to esteli that arrived 5 minutes later. it took us 4 hours to get home, but it all worked out just fine.

today was a normal day. we had school and some more people moved into my house (YAAAAY! i was getting really lonely. they even speak english as their first language! weee) and then we ®volunteered® at the school. they really dont have anything for us to do. we hang out with some kids, translate a letter, then leave. but its interesting. at least 6 kids (aged 10 or 11) asked me about my nose stud, and one kid kept repeating ®regalo?® and pointing to my earrings and confusing me (regalo means present in spanish). finally i was like ®yes, regalo de mis padres (present from my parents)® and he left them alone. for about 1 minute.

i’m off now, but i’ll talk to you later. you can post this as a blog — its easier than having to explain it all again.

love and light, and i’m not homesick anymore. i’m doing well, happy, etc. much love, Hilary

***********
Tomorrow, the full text of Matt and Hil’s travel plans.

Back in Acton, work continues at Pearwood (Diane’s suggestion). Today we have to lower that pesky deck a full half a foot. How are we going to accomplish that safely? I have no clue. Chris, remember your running shoes. In the meantime, another vignette:

Talking Pockets

“Normally, my pocket starts talking. ‘Hello, hello, are you there?’ Last week, when I was at your house and you were yelling up to Matt in his bedroom, my phone called my home answering machine.”

“How much do these calls add to your monthly phone bill?”

Chris thought for moment, as if it were something he had never considered. Truth is, it had not occurred to me, but to Diane after I explained to her how Chris’s phone calls his friends when he sits on it. Sometimes it’s a simple matter of pressing against one of the speed dial numbers. The first day on the job, as we were attempting to lift one of those heavy beams, his phone rang. It was Laura returning Chris’s cell phone call.

“Maybe a lot. My phone bill last month was a hundred and fifty dollars.”

Long before I was introduced to Chris’s auto dialing phone, I got one of those calls from someone’s pocket. I picked up my home phone and listened to a conversation between three or four teenagers as they walked from somewhere to somewhere else. The scratchy sounds of cloth against the phone and their footfalls added mystery to my eavesdropping. I heard about, alcohol, the cops, girlfriends, pranks, all sorts of doings, and I waited, hidden in the pocket, for something more exciting to happen. Yes,
I had visions of a body tossed into Robby’s ideal hiding place.

Chris explained that sometimes it’s more complicated than sitting on one key. If the phone is locked, he has to first sit on the unlock key. Then he might move to the scroll key and begin to cycle through names in memory. He moves again, lets up on the scroll key, and then sits on the dial key, and voila! Robby answers. Chris’s phone calls someone about once a day, or it did until he began taking it out of his pocket and leaving it on our work bench.

As we we talked, Chris listened to his phone messages. “Hey, my phone called itself.”

He handed me his phone. Sure enough, it had left a message, and one of not too long ago. The sounds of two hammers at work: “Bang,bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, shuffle, shuffle, bang, bang, bang, remember, three nails every sixteen inches, bang, bang, bang.”

I have just gotten back from leon and I don’t really feel like writing about it right now because i am exceedingly tired. We traveled for about four and a half hours, during most of which we were not sure that we were going home. The stress was a bit tiring. Leon was great though, exactly what i needed, a little rest and relaxation.

Anyway, I’m off to bed.

night
mateo

A weekend away with Linda and Dan.

Chris snapped this picure of one of many bird’s nests built atop those deck beams. This one, much sturdier than most, is made from a base of mud.
View larger image

Chris snapped this picure of one of many bird’s nests built atop those deck beams. This one, much sturdier than most, is made from a base of mud.
View larger image

This is a long post. The first part, email from our intrepid travelers, is important reading. The rest is of sketchy value.

Many, many people have asked me what Matt meant by Hil’s harassment.
I asked Hil if I could post her response, which was in an email she sent to Peter:

Go for it. definitely post it. a lot of people have been asking both of us what he meant by that. it really is such a societal thing, and i don’t know whether i should blame myself for being the odd one out here, or them for making it uncomfortable, or something else, or in between. ee! so many possibilities!

your brother and i have been talking about it a bunch, yes. i knew you’d be interested, and i figured the blog could use a better explanation.

matt and i are going to leon tomorrow morning, so maybe we’ll email again tonight but otherwise, don’t be worried if you don’t hear from us till monday.

i was really homesick until matt and i figured out that the best way to be ok is to just keep busy. its helping. and the weekend will go by quickly and then we’ll be more than halfway done.

i can only imagine how much sleep you’re losing. i email my dad and talk to him about once a week, and he seems fine. i know i would be freaking out all the time. maybe next year we’ll do something else. or i will. i think going to a place where i didn’t speak the language contributed the most to being a little lonely. cuz normally if i went to someplace with english speakers, i would try to make friends. but here i’m worried about messing up (i know i shouldn’t be like that friend of yours, but i’m self conscious is all!). my favorite parts of the day/week are when we hang out with david or roberto, the 19 and 21 yr olds of matt’s family. david is the best. we went out with him last night to a restaurant and he obviously tries really hard to a) have us understand him and b) him understand us. its really fun. we just hang out, talk about differences in the states, all that good stuff.

much love, and i’ll talk to you soon, Hilary

The attention thing is ok. i’m mostly used to it. although the other day a guy gave me a high five, held onto my hand, wouldn’t let go, was speaking fast (about the revolution, i think), asked me where i lived, took my other hand, asked me if i wanted him to walk me home, and when i said no thanks he took my hands, kissed the tops of both of them, kissed my cheek, called me bella (pretty), linda (pretty), and moreno (brown haired. yes, weird). as i walked the block to my house i reflected that that is solely the way they show happiness and affection. in the states that would’ve happened by someone smiling or, if they were confident, asking you for a drink. as it is, they’re more abrupt, in-your-face about it. but its all well-intentioned. that guy had no intention to hurt me or scare me. that’s just how i take it, its how I have been programmed to respond to how HE has been programmed. society does some funny things to you, mostly fucked up things at that.

my main problem is not being able to have complicated conversations with people, because i cant communicate a lot of my thoughts in spanish. the lawyers that were staying at my house had to leave because mike’s father in seattle had a heart attack. but i was REALLY sad when they left, because they were people i could have really great conversations with. matt’s a wonderful person, but we know exactly what the other person is thinking, meaning its like having a conversation with myself. before mike left he said he wished he could stay so we could teach him how to save the world. i wanted to cry.

well, off i go. much love, Hilary

***************

Matt,

There are too many Dave Princes’ on the internet. Give me a clue about
which one.

Chris is slowly getting better about catching flying tools. I found that it really helps if I first warn him that something is coming.

You’re going to Leon, we’re going to Boothbay, we’re going to have Lobster, and you are going to have….?

Love

Dad

Dave Prince, singer, sung at the olympics, i think i saw him in a movie as well…..
Haha, for a baseball player I bet he can’t catch a hack saw. Give it a try and tell me how it goes.
Hmm… what am i going to have in leon? No idea, for sure a hot shower and a swim. I miss boothbay, good old memories.. who did we bring there? Zack? maybe.

Oh, by the way, dont warn about the saw…

Peace
Mateo

***************

The second part of English Lessons.

“No, Chris, we DONE GOOD!”

“We did well. What did you get in English?”

Like I have a clue what my high school English grades were.

“I did well. But this isn’t about grades or good grammar it’s talkin’ tough. Construction tough. It’s not, we did wellllllll (I raised my voice and strung out the word well . It’s we DID GOOD! (I tried to lower my voice to Matt’s level, but failed.) You see, we did well is feminine and we did good is masculine.”

Chris hesitates for a moment and then asks, “Are there masculine and feminine power tools?”

“Let’s see, the gun that blasts nails into concrete is obviously masculine.” I scanned our workbench but saw only manly tools. “They are all masculine tools….except for maybe the combination square.”

I see. That’s because it’s used for drawing, right?”

“And here’s another thing, Christopher. You see that woman over there driving the steam roller back and forth, flattening the newly laid tennis courts?”

“Yeah, is there something wrong with that?”

“In my day…but that’s a lesson for another day.”

***************

Diane warned me that I shouldn’t post this next bit (yeah, she simply shook her head when I read her the tools-have-genders thing) without the permission of the main character. Chris and I both say, pshaw. But in deference to my wife’s wisdom; I’ll keep it anonymous.

A friend of Chris’s slammed his finger in his car door (beware Honda owners), felt the pain, but walked, “About three feet,” before he looked down at his hand and saw that he had amputated his right index finger from the nail up. He ambled back to his car, retrieved his finger tip from the crease where the door closes, and then went to the hospital to see if it could be reattached.

“It turns out they can sew on larger parts, but nothing so small. There is no arterial blood.”

I’ve had some experience with amputations (Chris now calls us brothers), and A. I cried like a baby, and B. I didn’t finish the cabinet I was building before hurrying to the hospital. This comparison to Chris’s friend comes to mind: An early settler is planting crops with his family. Indians attack killing his family but leaving him unscathed. The sun sets, he walks back to his house, sits down for dinner and wonders where his family is.

Matt’s latest:

Ah,boothbay harbor, i am jealous if that is possible considering i am in paradise. Anyway, we are going back to the school in a few minutes, and i’m just doing some emailing before we catch the bus. Yes Leon should definitely be a good time and i will spend a lot of time in the shower as well as at the beach. But dont you worry because we will be very careful and only swim where the locals tell us it’s safe. On the afternoons that we do not do work, we do excursions for the school, or go out with the kids from my house, who are 19 and 21. Life is good here, and i will talk to you soon
Much love
mateo

The last two weeks Chris and I have been working on what we knew was the worst rot problem at Applewod (intentional, I’d rather not have owners Googling their way to the blog). From a distance we could see the deck was way off level, as if someone had lifted the outside in order to roll the deck furniture through the sliding door. I hoped it was all frost heaves; it turned out to be that and a rotted sagging building.

We dutifully supported this wobbly second floor deck with enough lumber to build an entire suburb. When we finished with the supports it looked like the thing could walk away, centipede-like, but we no longer worried it would collapse and kill us.

We (okay, Chris) then cut the deck away from the building by sawing a two foot channel the entire width. This provided the necessary room to repair the building rotted by years of seeping water. But this isn’t so much an essay about construction work, as construction talk.

Whenever we’d finish an important stage, like freeing the deck without it falling down, I’d holler, “We did good.”

“We did well,” Chris would correct me.

To be continued…. (I was up late last night losing money to my poker friends)