Different Strokes

We are in to the quiet time.  The wet days, the grey days, the quiet days (well, now that the big trucks have left off restoring the walking path shoulder on Benson).  The Saturday Market is over, but the rush to the International Market and the gas stations continues, at least on the weekend.  There are still a few tourists around, but with the rain, that will wither away.  It is so slow that last weekend the Seafood Festival was held without any publicity.  I saw a picture of attendants, so I know it happened, but I never saw any announcement on the Community Events Sign.  In fact, I thought it must have been cancelled for some reason.

In mid-week, we had a little Let's Hear It For Peace occasion.  The Lutheran Church folk organized a pot-luck dinner and a peace celebration.  They distributed fabric flags and invited us all to write messages of peace on them and then they intended to fly them at the beach, at Lighthouse Park.  Except that it rained and they moved indoors to the Church.  But peace would be good, regardless of the weather.

The strange part, is that the weather is warm.  We spend our days in the 70's with high, very high humidity, and on-and-ff overcast skies.  It feels like weather I've never felt here before.  Although, having said that, someone will immediately remind me that it was just like that 14 years ago when some event happened during a warm humid September.

The Community Events Sign when I saw it last had no signs on it.  We are closed down for the moment, I think.  But, for something to think about, read this.  The guy who writes this blog wrote to me awhile back to comment that I was a city person living in a strange place and he was an Alaskan living in Yucatan and that there were some things we had in common.  In this case, though, I suspect we are mostly like the foreigners.  Probably to our loss.