At the Lake

I took leave without even telling you, dear ones, and for that grievous error in blog etiquette, I apologize. The lake in the mountains was whispering our name, and though my fear of nature (also hats, skiing, rodents, swans, zealots, karaoke, etc.) is well-documented, I heeded the call. And now, a recap:

Number of novels read: 1 — The Divine Husband by Francisco Goldman, which I'm happy to report meets with the much-desired Nesting Ground seal of approval. Inspired by the José Martí love poem, "La Niña de Guatemala," it is loaded with some of the most unforgettable characters ever. Take, for example, María de las Nieves who in a crazed and failed attempt to keep her friend from becoming the child bride of "El Anticristo," aka the next President of Guatemala, joins the Convento de Nuestra de Señora de Belén as a novice. She is soon in immense nun trouble due to her propsensity for twirling bits of wool around in her nostril until she sneezes. Rome declares that self-induced sneezing is a mortal sin of the flesh, and María de las Nieves is promptly thrown into a punishment cell in the novices' cloister.

Number of films watched after the kids were put to sleep: 3 — Volver, Babel, Déja Vu.

Number of Blokus Trigon games played: 20

Number of Blokus Trigon games won by me: 1

Number of hours spent in hammock: 2

Number of minutes spent on computer: 0

Number of creatures and/or buildings and/or foodstuffs built in sand by my children: 12

Number of significant thoughts: 0

Number of Choco Tacos consumed: oh, hush now.
I leave you with a picture of the girls creeping up on a small herd of deer. And, no, I have no idea why Lea is wearing her pajamas: