are looking up. I found my phone charger and mail-in rebate form. It was right at eye level in the kitchen where I’ve been painting in the evenings all week. What a roll-a-coaler!
All is well and good and aligned in the universe since we’ve been graced by the company of prima Fernanda from Mexico, D.F. Thank you Fer for so graciously allowing us to exploit your teen energy!
This week Fer’s been working at Beth and Christopher’s lovely Red Wing Farm where she’s turning compost and shelling black beans alongside the summer interns from Warren Wilson College. Her grandmother Myrna is worried she’ll be rounded up in a raid and deported but it’s really not that kind of farm.
Fer’s got a great attitude. The only complaint I’ve heard out of her was yesterday when after quietly suffering for hours from food poisoning she mildly said, “Michael, mmm, my stomach hurts?” Before leaping out of the truck into traffic to barf in the grass at KFC.
A sweet older couple interrupted their early Kentucky Fried dinner to offer a wet rag for Fer’s neck and warn us of the dangers of sun poisoning. Fer did have a wicked sunburn from spreading hay atop cardboard in full sun without protection on her fair (pun somewhat intended) skin, but we’re pretty sure it was the chicken (not KFC) that did her in.
I raced the prima home where she proceeded to turn green and then sleep for 3 hours. As only teenagers are capable of she was awake and bubbling with energy before Ada and I went to bed. She’s indestructible, and cute.
Preem’s biggest complaint about the whole affair was that throughout the feverish haze of misery she’d begun thinking in english. Que horor!