My mother is going to Cuba. Albeit, she's going to Varadero and staying in a resort, and that's as far away from Cuba in Cuba as you can get, but at least she'll be on the island. Rumor has it she'll leave her compound of all things familiar in North America and venture to Havana. She'll wish she got off the white sand beach, tourquise waters, toilet paper and swan towel sculptures sooner for the old cars, crumbling architecture, street artists, wafting Spanish guitars from parks and plazas and sad but calm resolve of Fidel's Havana.
I've asked her to bring me back my treasured Cuban Honey.
3 comments:
I love towels sculpted into swans... I promise we will attempt to see some of Cuba... outside of the resort...
a certain jane
hey, if my dad has anything to do with it, as much will be done off the resort as possible.
a certain circumstance in argentina so long ago promts me to think that there may be a repeat of "ken.... KEN! i'm very uncomfortable with this!" "oh it's fine (fill in name here). come on."
Honey is on the must do list right after I learn to make swan towels -
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