>Here I am up early again. When I start a project I get sort of obsessed with it. I dream the project. That’s where the “puddles” came from on the web site www.colonialzone-dr.com. I dreamt them.
I also dreamt of a lot of the jewelry I make. I miss making jewelry. All my jewelry stuff is still in Dominican Republic. In my boyfriends garage. Along with most of my belongings. Many of my friends and my Dominican family. But most of all my heart is in DR. Its where I left it for safe keeping. Until I can return.
VIEWS FROM MY BALCONY
The History of the Boxer Shorts Man
He was a professor in a college.
Then he started to lose his mind.
He ended up the way I saw him.
I met his nephew.
He told me.
The day he helped me clean the sidewalk.
This was his last day on the earth.
He had a stomach problem.
I heard that he was found
Taken to hospital.
No one knew who he was.
It was strange.
About 4 days after he cleaned up after Sniffy.
There was a call into the radio
Someone talking about negligence in the hospitals.
A lady talking about her brother dying.
My friend said to me she felt it was my friend they were talking about.
I never saw him again.
I just hope I made him happy.
I thank God that I got to know the Boxer Shorts Man.
I will never forget him.
I finally got a page on my new web site! I was so excited. Life was good. For a little time anyhow.
I was working hard on a page last night and saved it wrong and lost it all. Now have to start again. But its OK. This time I will be a little faster at doing it. Like when I crashed this puter so many times and pals were there to talk me through how do reinstall windows. I’m getting pretty good at it now. Maybe it will be the same with this web site stuff. Maybe someday I can semi-understand all this.
Finally got in touch with my man yesterday. Verizon DR isn’t always that reliable. But I do have to say it is better than the electric (thats not saying much tho). I call him and always get some human saying the line is busy. Its a cellular with call waiting so thats almost impossible. But anyhow, he does receive my text messages ( this is great for sending text to a Verizon phone in Dominican Republic) and he called me. It was his birthday on Sunday and I felt so bad I couldn’t even talk to him. Oh well, he knows his country! jeje
So back to work on the site. Hope it all comes out good this day. Porfavor Dios!
In the meantime heres another installment of
VIEWS FROM MY BALCONY
Going to Boxer Shorts home
Walking past his home one day.
He came out to greet me.
He asked me to come into his house in his mumbled word way.
I was getting to understand some of what he was saying.
He wanted to give me some pineapple.
I went into his house.
He had me sit and wait
He went into the kitchen to cut me his precious gift.
I ate the pineapple with him.
Listening to his constant talking.
Smiling when I thought appropriate.
He wanted me to see his TV.
It was in his bedroom.
I was a bit nervous but I followed him.
He was very persistent.
He showed me the remote for the TV
How it functioned.
Promptly after this he took me to the front door and said goodbye.
He gave me a little kiss on the cheek.
As I walked away he watched from his doorway.
He was smiling.
More From The Balcony later
>I still can’t get stuff uploaded to my new web page. It’s brought my to tears a few times. But I WILL figure this out if it kills me…which it just might! jejej I was up at 5 AM to give it another go with a semi-fresh brain. So in until I figure this out heres another story from
Views From My Balcony
GETTING TO KNOW THE BOXER SHORTS MAN
After we waved for many months he started trying to talk with me.
He never made sense when he spoke.
Yet he was really trying to communicate.
I do not think this was due to my limited understanding of the spanish language
He was happy.
He seemed to have an intelegence that he could not convey.
One day he took me to his meditation spot.
He was telling me about the trees.
I did not understand his words.
They weren’t really words he was speaking.
Slured and mumbled together.
But in his head he had to be making sense.
I listened to him.
Smiling and nodding when I thought appropriate.
He seemed to enjoy talking to me.
more to come
>I write some stories when I’m in the mood to do so. They say (and of course you know who THEY are) artists only can be creative when the mood strikes them. So I’ll pretend to be an artist. But it really is true, I can only make jewelry when I’m in the mood( I never mentioned that I make jewelry. I’ll write about that another day. When I’m in the mood jejjee). Can only build stuff when I feel like it. Can only have…well, now I’m embarrassed with what I’m thinking now..anyhow.
The Boxer Shorts Man
An interesting older man I watched almost everyday.
Early in the morning.
He was there in the garden across the street.
In his boxer shorts.
The old fashioned white type.
Lifting a piece of concrete.
Like it was a weight.
He worked hard.
Not paying attention to anyone.
After his workout he would squat down.
Looked like some yoga position.
He would stay in this position.
Many times for more than an hour.
I could never figure out at what he was looking.
About what he was thinking.
Or for that matter, if he was looking at or thinking about anything
I watched him.
Sometimes he would see me.
Make motions toward the sea.
Toward the sky.
Other times he would point up toward the trees.
I smiled at him and waved back.
Then when he was finished doing whatever it was he was doing
He walked back to his home.
Looking very content.
more of the Boxer Shorts Man next time