Hell’s Half Acre

I am due for a long post; crap has been flying about my brain, careening about my skull and making a lot of noise. Wilma is keeping my compassionate thoughts southward; with Kevin and Joanne’s new palapa and Bruce and Katie’s leveled (thanks to Emily) palapa and the rest of the residents of Paa Mul. We’re thinking about the people of Playa and the Mayans a little inland that provide the labor for the resorts along the Mayan Riviera. I’m thinking about the mudslides in Guatemala and the torrential rains in Honduras. I’m hoping that Cuba fares as well with Weeelma as she did with Emily.

Papa and Tata are headed southward tomorrow; he doesn’t start radiation until the end of November, so they’re burning rubber to get to the beach, Kiki, Mike and fresh fresh shrimp. I hope we can meet them down there before they have to come back up, but the boys are less than enthusiastic. They’ve become used to the idea of seeing Andrew regularly and are loathe to leave his geographical center.