Last night it was 61 when I was leaving cooking class. We made something warm and rich and simply delicious: arroz con leche y pasas (raisins). Everyone here seems to have a sore throat and cough because the weather is, in one day, hot and, for here, cold. Vickie says that the cold weather is a sign that the dead are near. Flor says that the weather now is a predictor of how the weather will be in December, more cold than wet. I think this is a good thing.
I mentioned the weather to Miguel in the posada, but in the conversation I said the dead are coming. He immediately corrected me: “The dead are near,” he practically whispered. I understand that the dead can’t actually come to the posada, but he wants to make sure I understand this.
In Sears, as I was shopping for a sweater, I was surprised to find Christmas. Trees, ornaments, all things Christmas filled the entryways of this store. It isn’t even Dia de Los Muertos yet, but the dead are near. And, Christmas is on their heels.
shewhodaresnothing 