The Smell Next Door

It's not a bad smell. No. It's a glorious smell and it reminds me of our vacation to Mexico a few years ago. Mexicans live next door and they have been dancing in the backyard all evening. Oaxacan, they practice the traditional dances of their people and perform them at street fairs throughout the summer. It's fun to watch the line of men (and one woman) hop and skip and laugh as they memorize the steps over and over again.

And then there's a feast. The kitchen, which sits just outside our office, is a flurry of cooks stirring up pots of delicious food that wafts out their windows and into ours. Everyone sits out on the back porch and quietly talks and eats. The music of their dance is as beautiful as the music of their language and my only regret is that I can't speak any Spanish...

...oh and that I can't have a plate of food!

It's too dark to take pictures or I would. I know they wouldn't mind. They see me with my camera all the time and when S. was pregnant (their first child) we snapped photos of her belly's progress. In fact, Ann went over and helped her make a belly cast right before the baby was born. Now the sculpture hangs in the baby room and S. makes jokes about wanting to wear it again just so she can feel skinny.

I'm tired tonight. Big, big day. Not a bad day, just lots of activity. I should go to bed. I'm certain I'll dream of Mexico and maybe I'll even hear the ocean out my bedroom window. That would be nice, but for now I think I'll just have to settle for the smell of Mexico.

And I know...the photo at the beginning of this post has nothing whatsoever to do with the post itself. I just liked the photo!