Friday, December 14, 2007

Moving back on the boat

I'm too old to do this ever again. But it's weirdly good to be where everything more or less has a place and is usually in it. We now have:

A child. This is what Adam would look like if he were a little baby girl:



Bookshelves. Adam made these out of primavera with ipe accents. Nice.

A natural latex mattress--or what passes for a mattress after the sleeping bags from Wal-Mart in Astoria that we were using after I insisted that we remove the ancient foam that was there before.

"Walls" in our "bedroom." Very lovely work by Adam. Note book-matching on the perrota planks.

A new bathroom!

Diaper free and lovin' it.




Newly varnished spars, plus a freshly painted hull.

A leather sock on one of the anchor's feet.

Thoughts on fruit

We found a double banana in a bunch that Adam bought at our local abarrotes. Apparently they’re not uncommon. But then Armando showed Adam a triple banana. “Have you ever seen one of these?”
Adam also returned home recently with a limón chichona, which means “nipple lime.” They’re unusual. You have to sort of know someone. It was green and round and very pale orange inside. It had an herbal scent, maybe a little musky, vividly citrus. Exactly like Earl Grey tea, come to think of it. I suddenly realized that this fruit was also known as bergamot. I’d never had the urge to see a bergamot, but holding it I was captivated. I wonder what other unsuspected experiences will emerge from this unforeseen life, this crossroads.

Adam met a man who dries organic fruit in solar dryers. He also collects worm pee from three different kinds of worms that he keeps in separate plastic vats and sells as fertilizer. In other containers around his yard various studies are being conducted using various worms at various stages. There was a campfire with a big vat on top of it full of brownish yellow liquid. He dipped his finger in it and told Adam that it was organic pesticide, a combination of minerals including sulfur. He assured him that when it dried it didn’t smell too bad. Leaving the yard, Adam noticed a model of a pyramidal building made mostly of glass. It was the man’s dream to construct it. He had posed action figures in different rooms. Spiderman was sitting on a toilet.
Wednesday was the día de la Virgen de Guadalupe, though we didn’t realize it until we took the bus to the neighboring town of Melaque to buy a card for our cellphone and some cat food. We arrived just as the parade was about to start. Juan, the poor indio, rode in the back of a pick-up truck, hands upturned in supplication, farmacias and ice cream and inflatable turtles dissolving as he gazed at the apparition of the virgin. A young girl in a sky blue shawl with folded hands and downcast eyes humbly blessed the Mexican church with its own miracle. Boys were Aztec warriors with peacock plumes. A wailing song drifted down the street, the singer unseen, the verse repeated, echoing in the voices of the onlookers.