Valentines day

Hey, remember the gas man last week that said he would be coming tomorrow, he should be here tomorrow.  So maybe next week he will decide to come by. Let me just warn you that moving to Nicaragua does not rescue you from listening to Justin Bieber or whomever your daughter believes is the best artist ever. As I sit on the couch, Kora has her music blasting and Jaden has dressed our dogs up in t-shirts and shorts. The family and Summer are creating valentine cards tonight for the children in the neighborhood next to us. They got candy to handout with cards. I am sure it will be fun.

Not sure if I mentioned this already, but the churches here don't have clocks on the back wall to let the preacher know that he is nearing lunch time. Kora suddenly blurted out the other day how she misses the short sermons that our preacher Kenneth gives (this may be the first time he has heard that). Goes to show how perspective can influence your perceptions. It was a holy Sunday for Kim today. On our way to church today, Jaden saved the day as he was just the right height to explain to Kim why she might be feeling a breeze on her backside. A new pair of pants she bought a local thrift store had a large hole across a certain region that will remain undisclosed. Thankfully we chose to attend a church close by where we could zip home for a quick change.

We were out driving the other night and I was amazed at how many people were out on the streets talking, walking, riding bikes. Nothing like in the states where everyone sprints for the door so they don’t have to talk to their neighbors. We will spend hours cleaning our garage so we can drive in right in and close the door. Or if we have too much stuff to fit in the house and our garage looks like Sanford and Son then we will risk injury or even heart attack to run to the door. Meanwhile, here in Latin America they will drag their stuff out of the house so they can talk and mingle. Even the dogs and chickens stay up late in the night to have a party and talk to each other. At 3:00 am last night the neighbors dog decides to sing a solo for the neighborhood and not of 4 or 5 minute typical song. I am talking about a 30 minute ballad, it was ridiculous. Across the street from Mozart the dog is Puff daddy rooster that apparently has not wound his internal clock lately, because he has no sense of time. They tell you that roosters crow at sunrise, but that is a lie. At anytime between 1:00 am and 5:00 am that rooster lets out this awful sound that I believe is suppose to be a cock-a-doodle doo, but its more like a caa caa caa doo dah. We are stockpiling ear plugs.