Making It Up As You Go Along

Shhhhh. It is so quiet this morning, the bird chatter that serves as white noise to our Boquete lives sounds riotous, even raucous. Hold it down out there! The dogs have been up and about for an hora y media and have not yet barked. Small miracles abound. K and J and Woowoo Charly are sleeping-in and RTGFKAR didn't make his first appearance in the kitchen until 7:30. Here at the keyboard I'm typing as softly as I can to keep the key clatter down. Shhhh everybody, shhhh.

There are darkening clouds to the north which may change our plans for the day. That's alright, they weren't hard, fast and fixed to begin with. We will just have to play it by ear, which works for me because I don't know how to read the musical notes, signs and symbols of life anyway. To my way of thinking life isn't a planned orchestration to begin with. It's Jazz. "Lead on MacDuff, and damned be he who first says, "Hold, enough!"

Kira and Joe flew into lovely and talented Daveed at 6:30 Friday eve. We loaded their small, sensibly packed bags into the car and headed home. By the time we got there, it was dark, so Joe, making his first trip here, was unable to see the spectacular landscape that surrounds us. To use a couple of Woowoo Charly's favorite lines, "it cracks me up" and "makes me giggle" to see the expressions on the faces of first time visitors when they wander onto the patio in the early morn and look about. Even if they don't say it aloud, you can see the "Wow! in their eyes. Joe was no exception.

We coffeed awhile out there and then drove to Cafe Lerida up above Alto Kiel for a late breakfast. This is another landscape painter's dream location that features good food and another "Can you believe this!" kind of view. After breakfast we took the loop around Baja Mono to see the abandoned castle and nifty waterfall. When we returned home, RTGFKAR set off for the last day of the Daveed Fair. K, J, Chuck and I just hung out. You know, good talks, laughs and for K and J, some sun. J is one of those Insta-tan people. We watched him turn from pale gringo to darkened local in a matter of a few hours. Amazing.

We all piled into RTGFKAR's car around six - he had returned and said the Fair was a disappointment, all the exhibitors were packing up and it was Daveed hot, temperatures in the nineties - and drove the short trip, dodging kids and makeshift soccer goals in the road, to Il Pianista Restaurant. There we had terrific Italian food and over-priced wine. Doris, the proprietor, was her usual patient self, as I ordered this latter. My usual banter goes something like this. "We would like a bottle of dirt cheap wine, but not just any dirt cheap wine, we want your FINEST dirt cheap wine." What we got cost twenty-two bucks a bottle and we had two. I damn near had a heart attack when I saw the price on the check. Next time its beer, or better yet, water. Makes me wonder, though, what the expensive vino costs.

Another hour or so on the patio watching the dogs romp and night fall, then early to bed and book. Somewhere just past ten.

Life is Jazz I tell ya, Jazz. And ya just gotta love it.