Meanwhile, this little slice of paradise above the beach in Pelluco is too close to the jungle life for me. The dogs who live here are constantly barking at the dogs who live next door. And on weekends, starting usually on Thursday nights, the beachside discos pound and howl until 4 am, when the muffler-less motorcycles announce to all around they're roaring home.
Mao is the Doberman, Jaing is the German shepherd. When they get to barking, I can holler out my window, "Callate!" and / or "Andate a su casa!" ... and they will be quiet for a time.
I really like a night of uninterrupted sleep. Excuse me for that; but I need my peace and quiet! My friend Vanessa, who lives a few blocks above me here, gave me a water pistol to help deal with the dogs. She's using one to train her neighbor's dog to keep quiet. But you know, the idea of getting out of bed at midnight to shoot a stream of water at those dogs is just not fitting in with my perception of the FORK in the GARDEN PATH that I want to take!
Okay. So that means I want a more serene place to live if I'm going to live in Chile. Let me say, too, I want a somewhat more spacious place than this, so that I can invite you to come and visit. Our friend Larry, from Michigan, was planning to visit us here in Pelluco in February until a medical emergency at home prevented him. We'd prepared the small bedroom upstairs with sheets and blankets ... but the truth is, it is a very small space for a couple to share with a friend. Maybe next year we'll rent something more amenable to hosting guests.
Next year? ... that's one fork in the path.
"Madame Bories" is Cristina of the Casa de Los Gansos, a woman I met thru the Puerto Varas English-Speaking Book Club. She and her gringo husband live in Maryland for half the year ... and maybe I'll see her there this summer, who knows. Maybe she and Will will travel to Bellingham? We are both enjoying the current reading project: Barbara Kingsolver's novel, Flight Behavior.
The weather is turning ... summer here was quite short - everyone seems to agree to that. This last week we've had cold mornings, with the sun not making any kind of thermal dent till after one pm. Even then, the breezes are cool enough to make you want your jacket. The little oak outside my bedroom window is turning colors ...
So, we'll be flying home ... that is, to Bellingham ... soon.
Home?
Which fork of the garden path will we choose?
