Chris Radulski is reading Eats, Shoots and Leaves by Lynne Truss, the best seller about punctuation, and the same book I thought Iíd get from my local library, except that I was the four hundredth in line. I hope Iím next in line for Chrisís copy. Here, however, is a contrarian view which inspired this defense from the Guardian.

Bertha

One more from the airport. Maley hugs Hil, Robby watches.
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The first day on the job, I taught Chris the fastest way to pass anything is through the air. Ask for a hammer and you better look up because itíll be sailing in your direction. Need a hand saw? Are your hands free? They better be. Monday we needed to clear one of those upper decks of piles of household junk in order to stain it. I stood above and to the back of the deck, while Chris was below on the ground. Perched on the railing between us were flower pots full of blooming impatiens, which made it impossible to know exactly what was coming before it had sailed over the railing.

ìAre you ready?î I donít always give a warning.

ìYes.î

Into the air I launched a stream of stuff : a rake, a broom, a shovel, a plastic plant container, garden hand tools, towels, two coolers, everything but the chairs and the gas grill. I couldnít see what was happening down below, but other than one shout of, ìDonít throw the pointy end at me,î I think he caught most of it.

That was not my retribution, oh no.

With the deck clear, and needing to stain the outside railing, we set our long plank on the tops of two ladders – that place with the warning sign, THIS IS NOT A STEP. We climbed up on opposite sides and I spied a long, brown, fat, juicy slug slinking along my end. I picked it up, looked at Chris who had not seen it, and winged it at him. Like a pitcher protecting himself from a line drive he snagged it, hard, at chest height.

Then he opened his hand.

Egdelina
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Iíve received many emails from fans of the blog (fobís) asking why I continue to tell stories about Chris, now that Matthew is home. ìSure, we like Chris,î they write, ìbut letís hear more about Mattís trip. ëMatt on horseback, Mattís house in Esteli, Mattís classroom, Mattís teacher,í boring, boring, boring. WE NEED MORE DETAILS!í î Iíd be happy to comply, but here is the deal. I saw Matt on Friday night when he deplaned, I saw him once on Saturday, not at all on Sunday, and briefly on Monday. And that is how it is. Today, he and Daryl are going to Joeís house in NH, and I wonít see him again until this coming Saturday….maybe. If you want more Matt stories, you have to write and tell him to stay home.

The Bazar Fez is owned by Matt’s home stay family.
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The other day, Karen, Chrisís mom, introduced me to a family friend as Chrisís boss. I kinda like the sound of it, but you know times have changed since I was his age. If you told me to do something Iíd jump up, salute, click my heels and then run off to complete the task.

Nowadays, Iím reminded of our friend Dan’s marriage to Linda. Dan brought one son to the marriage; Linda, two daughters. Her youngest daughter, Rebecca, at maybe five or six, sized-up this new authority figure and said, ìYou are not the boss of me.î Thatís pretty much how it is these days.

ìChris, could you please get the can of brown stain from the back of the truck? If you do Iíll buy lunch and give you a raiseî

ìWhat do you think I am? A dog and youíre playing fetch?î

Yeah, I too thought that was a pretty snappy comeback, but I got that last laugh. Tomorrow I’ll explain how.

Matt on horseback before galloping through the forests.
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Two short movies that should be viewable even with dialup connections. The first precedes the second, and the second …..well, go figure.
Language lessons (2.4 MB)
Chicken flap (1.2 MB)

Emma posing with her new Go Kart.

I laughed when I watched Rodd insist Emma wear a helmet, shoes and a seat belt. I stopped laughing moments after she stomped on the accelerator pedal. Here, Diane clears the yard of mosquitoes.
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Matt’s teacher.
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Matt’s classroom for the first week.

Matt’s home, the house with the balcony, in Esteli.
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Hil’s living room.

The congenial, collaborating, conquering captains of their own destiny, arrived, mostly on time, vivaciously voluble, hiply hirsute, steeped in stories, and full of photos (361 on Mattís digital camera). Matt looked like his uncle Peter, freshly from a weekís camping trip in the high Sierras, while Hil appeared ready for a magazine cover shoot. Tell me again, why we were ever worried about these two?

From the airport, we (Lew and Jennifer, Maley, and Robby) drove as directly as we could manage to the Village Smokehouse – Hilís request – and our favorite after MFA stop. There we met Mark and Ginger, who had both been roused from deep sleep to join us, and ordered dinner but minutes before the grill closed at eleven. Home after midnight, and in bed by 2 AM after one long, luxurious, hot shower.
For the moment Diane won’t be asking, “I wonder where they are today?”

Maley hugging Matt, while Diane and Jennifer watch dad and daughter embrace.

Their flight arrives tonight at 8:56 PM.

Thank you for confirming everything, very helpful.I dont need any of that information really because it is on my tickets and stuff right? just making sure. Thank you for going over it with me though because im sure we could f*** it up if we tried. We were in granada last night, and it is so beautiful. even if there are a few to many tourists for my taste, but whatever, we are two of them. And yes, i am about ready to come home now as well, so you donít have to worry about us not showing up on that flight. Unless of course our flight is canceled, or bush decides to ban international flights due to terrorist risks (knocks on wood). Anyway, much love but me and hil are off to masaya now. Talk to you soon

MUCH LOVe
mateo

We canít find a place to buy stamps, and i swear to god we have asked just about ever person we have come by. We asked Ruth (my teacher), she said she didnít know. We asked david (kid i lived with), said he had never sent mail. We asked hils teacher, the people that lived in my house. people on the street. All of them looked at us as if we were crazy. Anyway, we will keep on trying, but i cant promise anything

Mateo

Hi All,

granada really is just the same. when we were with bertha and family they had us try chinchuron (pig skin) and†i said i had tried it once before and couldnít deal with what it was. and while driving through granada we passed the EXACT place i had tried it! with Los Chicos! i tried to tell them that but i donít know if i got my point across (her parents didnít speak english fluently, so we spoke in spanish to them).

itís really quite beautiful here. matt and i went to masaya this afternoon and bought some more presents (we’re all done!) he got a hammock for himself, and i bought a hammock chair for renee. they’ll be fairly easy to bring home, i hope. together, the three of them cost $37. but matt and i are getting cheap.

me and matt went out to eat at one of the best places ever! La Gran Francia. we got these plantains filled with red beans and cheese. wow, it was just amazing. there was this salsa and sour cream with them. and then he got chicken dijon blue and i got steak with jalapeno peppers (i was going to get a normal chicken breast and then he told me i was being boring. and then i told him he should get the chicken breast and i’d get something else. and so i got the steak. but it took me about 20 minutes to decide on what to get cuz i wasn’t sure about the jalapeno sauce, etc., etc. but it was amazing!). for dessert he got chocolate mousse that really just made you want to die so that you could die happy, and i got caramel flan that was good but not as amazing as the chocolate mousse.†i asked if we could go back for just the dessert the next night, cuz no where else in nicaragua has desserts (GASP!) and he said it wasnít that kind of place. it was really quite upscale, with great service. and WATER. normally they don’t have a glass of water always filled for you, and you have to order water and a different drink if you want both, and itís just a pain. but here they had a water glass for you at all times! it was wonderful. and the water was delicious! mwa hahaha.

afterwards we were talking about how expensive it had been. and then we realized that we have just gotten extraordinarily cheap — the dinner cost $40. for a GOOD dinner, with GREAT service, for TWO people, with WATER, and AMAZING meat and dessert that was delectable.

i told him that when we get back we’re going to be like those old people who are like “back in MY day, that only cost a nickel. cackle cackle cackle”. he told me i had already made that joke at least 3 times (i had only said it once before, i promise).

i love you all, Hilary

REMEMBER!!!!! PARTY at MY HOUSE, SATURDAY. call my parents if you’re gonna come.)

I don’t suppose we’ll hear from the teenage tourists again until they reach Managua on Thursday.

This follows ìMore Than a Phone Callî , and I donít think it stands alone. Itís a phone call I had with my mother about the funeral for the husband of my motherís friend who shot himself in his living room.

ìYou went to the service for Aliceís husbandî?

ìWe did. It was a beautiful day, seven oíclock in the evening. Not even hot, no hotter than eighty.

ìWhere was he buried?î

ìThe cemetery on Oak Hill Road. Itís out 41, on a hill near Whirlpool?î

ìThere are no hills near Whirlpool. it must have been past the airport.î

My mother loves it when I tell her sheís mistaken about something she knows is true. I think we might have been arguing perceptions.

Patiently, she answered, ìIf you turn right near Whirlpool you go up a hill.î

ìWhirlpool is as flat as the nearby airport runway… .î

ìThere were about twenty-five people. The cemetery had only markers, no upright stones, and it was touching to see the children and grandchildren running about, playing. Although my father wouldnít have allowed it. He said stepping on graves was disrespectful. Alice was wearing a black pantís suit she bought for the service. She weighs eighty-four pounds and her fitter said she was a size zero. I didnít know there was such a thing.î

ìEighty-four pounds. How tall is she?î

ìNot much taller than I, but she started losing weight when George got cancer.î

ìA woman who scrubs the blood of her husband off her carpets. I donít know…I pictured someone bigger. How about Lisa, the daughter he was so close to?î

ìShe was still pretty tore up.î

My precise mother never says ìtore up,î and sheís probably cringing reading this, but itís more evocative than ìtorn up.î She said it this time, so it stays.

ìLisa came with her husband and children. You know I always thought she had gay tendencies, but thatís because she had so closely imitated her fatherís mannerisms. She walks like he did.î

ìNot to be morbid, but you saw them lower his body into the grave?î

ìNo, no, he was cremated. They buried his urn next to his daughterís grave, or they sprinkled his ashes on it. I couldnít tell from where I sat. You remember that is what they did with Mackís sister, Joan. Her ashes were placed in the ground next to her motherís. I donít know what people will do with me. Not that they will listen to what I want.î

Years ago, not long after her brother died, my mother and I argued about her burial. She wants to be cremated and her ashes flung out to sea, or buried in a garden, or enriched with an emulsion of sunflower seeds and fed to the cardinals – anything but a body in a grave. Itís not lying in dirt, itís the waste of space, of her burden on the environment. I was adamant. I wanted her in the ground, somewhere I could go and talk to her. I didnít want to be following some nesting song bird just just to say, ìHi.î It wasnít too long after this conversation that I decided chasing birds wasnít so bad.

ìWe listen, you know we do. Weíll do what you want.î

ìJust be sure you play a recording of Tess (Brianís wife) on the Tabla Drums. Itís hard to get people to do what you want. Alice couldnít get the minister she wanted for the funeral. You know, they werenít church going people. But she has iron up her back, she told me, ë Weíre just going to have to do it ourselves.í ì