Snippet Número 1: Living on the Street Last Thursday a former co-worker and I headed over to N Street Village , a women's homeless shelter on 14th and N Streets here in our dear city, Washington, DC. We had signed up to help serve lunch in the shelter's cafeteria. I'd attended orientation there but had forgotten how best to get into the cafeteria. So, I rambled into the shelter's courtyard, a pretty big space that's neatly landscaped and lined with tiles. I approached the door and an older woman sitting nearby smoking meekly asked me who I was there to meet. I told her I was there to help serve lunch and she directed me to a blue door on the other side of the courtyard that shoots straight to the cafeteria. About face, I thanked her and headed off. As I retraced my steps through the courtyard, I passed three other women smoking on a bench. They purred, whistled, and shouted at me: "Hey baby! Hey, come over here sweetie! Let me check you out!" And some othe
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To make up for squandered time, here are some photos of our latest adventures. They include hiking in Shenandoah National Park with our latest furry friend, Sam; a May Day March for Immigrant Rights to the White House; camping at Chincoteague Island, Virginia, over Memorial Day; hanging with the family in Cape May, New Jersey; going to the Real Madrid soccer game at FedEx Field. Photos
En el cambio, la evolución. Evolution is in change/in change, there is evolution. Sounds better in Spanish, right? Makes more sense in Spanish, too, right? So it's been six months since I posted (!) Time to get started again. I sent ONE THIRD , the book, to several literary agents and nobody's taken a bite. Should I keep trying? In the meantime, I'll continue to post chapters of it here. I also will add "snippets," accounts of strange/funny things that happen in my daily life that are truthfully more suitable to the blog format. I may even develop my latest kids' book idea, Bad Begbie and the Furry Bunch , on these very pages. Sound good? Re my pseudo epigraph, a friend once said that to me and I found it simple but wise. Then, weeks later, I was half listening to my every-faithful iPod and Chambao, the Spanish flamenco fusion group my pal in Sevilla, Carmen, introduced me to ever so long ago. And, bam, there was the line. Huh, I thought, I assumed Nery had co