The holiday week
Monday, the closed day, the first day, the beginning...
...this Monday my lovely wife rudely woke me up from my afternoon nap. I was on Mancora beach in my dreams with a pisco sour.
"Baby, would you like to come?"
"On the beach?"
"No, where there is a lot of family and beer."
Still in a daze, I decided to just go along.
I would like to presuppose that Hermano Hugo arrived in the morning. After eleven years of not seeing his mother in person. My Grande Amor, Hugo and I set off on a moto. The goal? No idea. And a lot of it.
This is how the best parties are created. Nobody knows who is coming, but everyone is there. At least after word got out that the family was on the way. A big hello and hold the beer bottle until the glass is empty. Then fill the glass, pass the beer and drink. Please drink quickly, the next person is thirsty.
That was the warm-up lap. Old counter, I don't want to know how many cases of beer there were or better yet, I don't want to know how much beer I paid for. That can make you dizzy.
And there was also something to eat. Fish. Me, the ultimate fish lover. Oh dear. But that was so delicious. A kind of fish soup with a whole fish and a really good gravy. Garnished with tomatoes and onions and whatever else needs to be added. Unfortunately, the others were hungry too.
Now comes the somewhat sad part of these little evening rounds again. Everyone says it's very dangerous. Please don't go too far away. There are a lot of bad people there. So far I haven't found a bad person. You probably shouldn't make it that way either.
Today is Querida Madre's birthday party. 80 years old and still as vital as a 40 year old. The voltage increases. I don't know what to expect.
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