Wow, my ninth anniversary living in Honduras slipped right by me like a shadow in the night on February 24th. Life is but a dream. And in Honduras, it is a lovely dream. I am slowly accommodating to my new home, at the same time making room in my crowded schedule for English classes at the Home and resuming my interrupted writing schedule. I recently submitted the synopsis and the first three chapters of my biographical memoir to a publisher in the States. Sister Edith’s father died last Monday and that slowed everyone’s schedule to a crawl. He lingered in the hospital for two weeks. He is now free from pain. May he rest in peace in heaven. Life is but a dream.
A full moon is rising this gloaming over the park across the street from my new digs. There are always kids playing and having fun. Tomorrow I complete my move from my previous home, soon to be sold to the highest bidder. This new home of mine is actually the nicest place I have ever lived in Honduras. Kismet. God bless.