January 15, 2013
Too hot to sleep sans a twirling fan in the dreaded heavy
heat of the night so I dress to creep down the stairs to park on the sofa below
the zipping ceiling fan in the livingroom. Not much relief nor chance to fall
back into a deep restful sleep because Joao gets up soon after and begins to
rattle the dishes, I hear the burst of flame to light the stovetop and rustling
of the paper bag housing bread rolls. Denise makes her way out of the bedroom
later than usual. She has been plugging away at her architecture projects since
dawn to assure their completion prior to her departure for a much deserved ten
day vacation with Theo. Joao has left to perform a massage. The table is set,
per usual, for the family and a sweet note was propped in Denise’s coffee cup
to replace his warm and tender good morning kiss. Sentiments, she read aloud, of
love and affection gave me a burst of happiness for my best Brasilian
girlfriend and a slight twinge of grief for the one who lacks a partner to
share dark coffee and kisses each morning.
Old and feeble Shaggy Dog lookalike is springing back to
health. Shiska popped-up this morning to greet me when I staggered over to
Cookie’s and ate (the dog, not me!) all of her raw
hamburger/rice/carrot/oatmeal flake mixture as I applied Tellington Touch. She
is now placing her shattered leg on the ground and bouncing into the yard to do
her business. I am pleased by the quick response to my care. Mauricio (the
dreaded ex) wasn’t even vaguely aware of the slick vomit lingering under the diningroom
table directly behind his bent dark curly head last night so I was glad for the
late check-in visit. The Oriental rug has observably seen better days but I
didn’t want to add injury to the go to wrack and ruin process. Some
unsuspecting well-wisher snuck Shiska the dreaded indigestible nuggets. She is
a visible victim of her circumstances with a houseful of boys.
A maid scoots by Denise’s later in the morning as I lurch my
gaze over the fence searching for the long-awaited Correios man like a leering stalker.
Can’t help myself..there are several packages I anticipate breaking the
day-to-day routine. As a youthful compacted woman clutching her weathered once
rich olive pocketbook as though it will get away from her roams by I holler
hello as she turns with startled grin. The neighbor across the sandy rutted
road glances over from his cement colored balcony with thin criss-crosses
weaving their merry way ‘round the open areas to prevent the unsuspecting
children from falling to their certain doom. I understand him to have one branded
t-shirt and now dowdy khaki below the knee saggy shorts since he appears each
morning for the past five, just exactly the same. He nods sympathetically as
though he knows my secret longing is once again unrealized. I can only sigh
with impatience for the subsequent mail delivery day.
The above ground pool has glistened out-of-this-world brilliant
green for days. Joao insists he knows what he is doing to correct the aiming to
peel your skin off problem yet we latch onto our suits, towels and noodles in obvious
discouragement regardless of his thwarted confidence. Had counted on a last despedida
(farewell) splash as a family. Joao hangs his damn near bald head in begrudging
shame. We tease him into chortles and outright bursts of laughter because no
one wants him to feel badly. Can’t be good at everything we cheer! Grab half-liter
beer bottles and salty snacks and head for the beach.
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