Enga mellom fjella

El taller

...no fue bien...

ME:

I was sliced and diced at the workshop tonight. Quite sliced.

I know what to do in the future as far as my writing in Spanish is concerned. It's just very difficult and means a lot of work and prolly not sharing anything until I am certain it is polished.

If I cry over anything it will be how hard it is to express oneself in another language no matter how much one learns it. I fear withdrawal... and I feel it coming on. I don't want to be 21 again and struck dumb. Nor do I want to be numb. Both are possible. Neither is advisable.

Today wasn't the best of days.

But ...saw the agent for the apt., ate a sopa negra (black soup = black beans blended in a broth) with two eggs. Very tasty and very good. Saw Ilena at market. (Mis)spoke with Adonis. Met Luis. Saw Warner.

Bought another verdulaga (yellow this time) and a terra cotta pot. Bought ground beef.

So, yes, it wasn't all bad.

But... I still want to crawl into my cave... and not come out.

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