My father-in-law lent me his pickup/mobile paint shaker. He's "muy tacaño" (really cheap) and didn't put any gas in it. I just figured the fuel guage was busted. Not. I ran out of gas en el culo del mundo. Hitched a ride to the nearest station and filled the gas can he, thankfully, had in back. Hitched a ride back and siphoned the gas into the tank with the hose he, thankfully, had in back (should have been a big clue). Gas tastes pretty good. It's the aftertaste that sucks. Motored back smelling like a Shell refinery.
The new house looks beautiful. We love it. We've named it Casa Jungla (Jungle House). We have very little furniture: a bed we have named "el hueco" (the hole) and a table and four chairs my father-in-law dropped off yesterday AM from the restaurant. That was nice. The dogs love the new place. They've figured out how to raid my neighbor's outdoor kitchen to steal empanadas when abuela isn't looking. They've also figured out how to raid the chicken coop for eggs. Had one very pissed off hen outside our place at 4AM yesterday.
My wife is at ICE 2day paying the 60 bucks it will take them 2 get out here to run a telephone line 2 the house on the 4 new 2-1/2" galvanized poles I bought and had installed the other day to get the line from the main road down or private road 2 the house. Am hoping the cable company can use the same poles. They were supposed 2 be here at 7 AM. It's 10:30 AM and I'm still waiting.
Am typing these last two entries sitting on a chair in the jungle mooching an open Wi-Fi channel from one of my neighbors. He's not quite close enough to the house so I have to mobilize my office. Leaves keep falling on my keyboard. But it's a beautiful day. We have a wedding to attend later on so I must sign off. Pura vida!